When Owen, an American Facebook friend suggested we met up for a pub crawl in Liverpool, it took me all of two seconds to say yes. Facebook friends can be risky, but he loved good beer and was a fellow member of the Anthony Trollope Facebook page, which attracts a better sort of person. Karen, his wife loves Bob Dylan. The stars seemed aligned.
We met up at the Radisson Red Hotel at Lime Street Station, and the adventure began with two short and one long knock on our door—my instructions just to make sure it was him. ‘Where to first?’ he asked. Good, a man who meant business.
The Vines, just five minutes’ walk away was the obvious choice, Victoriana at its most excessive. The beer, Timothy Taylor Boltmaker was a good pint, the ambience perfection. A follow up beer in Lime Street Station—Wetherspoons— something to eat and then bed. Big day tomorrow.
The view from our window, St George’s Hall and Liver buildings in distance.
I aimed to break up the beer with a bit of culture, unfortunately the Walker Art Gallery is closed on Mondays so it meant we started on the beer earlier than intended. This involved a brisk (in my case) slow walk up ‘haunted’* Bold Street and the bombed shell of St Luke’s, then up to the so called Georgian quarter housing cathedrals and some very fine pubs.
The Catholic cathedral, started in the interwar years and designed by Sir Edward Lutyens, was intended as a vast basilica bigger than St Peter’s in Rome. The Crypt was actually built and gives you an idea of the scale of the original concept. Unfortunately World War II drained the project of money and manpower. Post-war impoverishment saw the end of the giant basilica, and something more cheap and cheerful replaced it—-‘Paddy’s Wigwam’ perched upon a giant underground crypt.
Culture was again thwarted. The Crypt was closed to the public that day because it was being used as an exam venue for the University. So, beer it was. In this case Boddingtons.
At the Phil we met up with Georgina, in my case, a virtual friend become suddenly real, but an old colleague of Owen and Karen’s. Everything was coming together.
Walking through the Georgian quarter we wended our way to the Anglican Cathedral.
And then Kavanaghs’ – a real gem. I’m sure a bottle of absinthe would turn this space into Alice in Wonderland or perhaps just a nightmare.
Over fives miles that day. Never was bed so welcome.
Next day was ‘Ferry Across the Mersey’ day, followed by the Albert Docks and the Beatle Experience, a museum that told me nothing I didn’t know, but pleasant nevertheless.
Birkenhead side — ventilation shaft for the Mersey Tunnel
By the time it was over, I was ready for a pint. But first some walking to do.
Legend has it the Liver Bird facing the sea is looking for returning sailors. The Liver bird facing inland is checking the pubs are opened. Google told us they were.
This time we focused on Dale Street and three pubs in particular. First port of call, Thomas Rigbys. Unfortunately no food on Mondays and Tuesdays. Karen and Bernadette needed food. So, we walked to the Ship and Mitre.
Unfortunately, no food until five pm. Karen and Bernadette took pity on us and made do with crisps until a promised Vietnamese. Wonderful pub, a beautiful pale ale called Spitfire. Wonderful Vietnamese restaurant in Castle Street.
Once more into the beer, my friends. Thomas Rigby revisited,
And finally the Hole in the Wall where I was seduced by a plum porter’s promise of being ‘Smooth, Dark and Fruity.’ Well, it was smooth and dark but, as I suppose the name suggests, tasting of plums. Ah well, you can’t win them all, and it was alcoholic.
Mathew Street back in the day
Mathew Street now
The Grapes was once quiet and scruffy, a place where off duty postmen, the Beatles and other Cavern groups would go for a drink after a show. I used to love its warm Blackpudding Baps with mustard and a ring of raw onion. I didn't expect to get that 2026. At the same time I didn't expect it to have changed so much.
Mathew Street, a far cry from what it was in my day, but there you go. Then a quiet cup of tea and a whiskey catch-up in the hotel bar with my cousin, Michael.
Nearly six miles that day.
So, thank you, Karen and Owen and above all, Bernadette. I hoped you enjoyed it!
