Two Pools - Liver and Black

The last match of the football season saw Spurs away to Liverpool, and on Petter’s suggestion we decided to make a bit of a weekend of it. So, with Paul, Marty and Karyn, we all met at Euston station after work on Friday to hop a train up to Liverpool for the long weekend.
After a rather uneventful train ride, we checked into our respective accommodations and then met up again in a pub in the heart of Liverpool’s nightlife. Certainly an interesting night out as we checked out a band before hopping a few different bars and clubs to sample a Friday night out in Liverpool. It had some interesting moments and I do have to admit that it’s hard to talk to someone when you can’t keep a straight face at their accent. Cross Irish with Welsh and then raise it an octave (or two) - I’d love to be able to replicate it because it is so unique, but not quite in such a bad way as the Geordies...
Anyway, after having a few problems with gaining entry back into both our accommodation and room (as someone was trying to use their own house keys instead of the B&B’s), we called it a night.

A slow start to the day, but we were soon back in the heart of Liverpool where we had a look around before meeting Marty n Karyn for ‘brunch’. With discussion of where to go next, it turned out that Marty had lived nearby to where my grandmother had grown up, so we decided to go take a look along Aigburth Road (right) near Sefton Park, which is HUGE and still has small girls running about in it just like it did 90-odd years ago.

It soon came time to head back to the station in central Liverpool as Petter, Paul and myself were headed to Blackpool for the evening and night. Petter hadn’t been to Blackpool before (not that we had) so checking out this seaside resort town had made its way onto the agenda. In just under an hour we were there.

There’s not too much to Blackpool itself other than the coastal amusements, rides, pubs/bars/clubs, hotels, restaurants, etc... that line the shore. This extends from the north pier to the south pier and beyond - that’s well over a mile in length, and this doesn’t include the few streets behind this that aren’t on the seafront itself. We basically wandered the foreshore checking it all out from the north pier to the south pier, which is where our accommodation was for the night.
Once checked in, we effectively did the reverse, but this included stopping firstly in a small restaurant (for some superb fish n chips - when in Rome...) and then a host of the pubs and bars. We soon discovered that Blackpool seems to be a haven for bucks and hens nights, as well as just being an active night out. I’m not sure that quite knew how to take it when a member of a hens night proposed to him, but we were constantly asked to help out with the lists of tasks that they all had for the evening. That’s Petter obliging one of the hens... In the end, once we discovered that it was now over a mile walk to get back to our lodgings, we cabbed it back.

The next morning, our host provided a very full English breakfast and we began the day with a quick 18 holes of golf. Okay, so it was putt-putt, but it sounded good. Afterwards, we headed back to the station for the quick trip back to Liverpool and to then to Anfield.
In the Arkles pub nearby, we met up with many others who had travelled up from London for the match before heading into Anfield for the game itself. I was certainly happy with my front row seat and to be pitchside when the 40,000+ Liverpudlians struck up “You’ll Never Walk Alone” was pretty amazing.

Afterwards, the fun began as our accommodation for the night fell through. We weren’t the only ones left roomless for the night as there were several people gathering at the offices of the apartment block where we had all booked apartments for the night. Only problem was the office was locked and the guy we’d spoken to earlier was nowhere to be seen.
So the Scandinavian church it was for the night. £15 each, and a landlady who wasn’t convinced that Petter was actually Norwegian until he produced a Norwegian drivers licence. It’s funny how when you learn English that you also seem to pick up the accent of the place you learn it - hence Petter’s English being with a cockney accent and not sounding anything like the chef on the muppet show...
We may have had to make our own beds and do our own breakfast dishes, but who’s going to complain at £15 for the night?!

Anyway, with that sorted we met Marty n Karyn for a final night out in Liverpool. Dinner first then Marty showed us a venue that had about six different venues and levels to it with each area catering for a different taste. We ended up in one of the lower levels on ‘teapots’, which is where they mix up a cocktail that fills a teapot, which you then serve out to everyone (see pic) or have four goes from it yourself. A groovy spot really.

The next morning was reasonably slow, but we all met back up at Liverpool station for our respective trains home - even if they were a replacement bus to the midlands first before a speedier train back to London.

Don't forget to check out http://www.justgiving.com/aussierunner or the little widget at the top right of the webpage here. You know it's worth it, even if you throw a fiver (£5) into the pot.