Liverpool. The Beatles.
Yeah, yeah. (Yeah).
The Beatles and Liverpool are inextricably linked; they put this town on the map, and they're still its biggest draw. No matter that the Beatles left their hometown more than 50 years ago in search of fame and fortune; a recent study found that the Fab Four connection brings in an average of $103 million a year and keeps 2,300 locals employed in Beatles-related tourism.
But haven't travelers been there, done that or at least read enough about it?
Isn't it time we all moved on? Surely there is more to this northwestern English city than John, Paul, George and Ringo.
It took little digging to hit pay dirt on this question. Liverpool has been enjoying something of a renaissance in recent years, finally shaking off the poor image that came with economic decline, rising crime and city scandals.
Officials have worked hard to turn the image around since the 1990s, reinventing the city by emphasizing its culture and history. In 2004, the Liverpool waterfront was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site; a year later, the city was awarded the title of European Capital of Culture for 2008. New museums opened, piers were restored, the economy began cranking and enthusiastic reviews from visitors began piling up.
Today, Liverpool boasts more museums, art galleries and historic buildings (2,500 buildings and 250 public monuments) than any city in Britain except London. Last year, it was named a UNESCO City of Music for the central role music plays in the life of the city — acknowledging not just the pop of the Beatles and other "Merseybeat" bands, but other institutions, including the 175-year-old Liverpool Philharmonic.
Obviously, there is plenty to write about. The "Beatles Story" exhibition might still be the city's most popular attraction, but there are plenty of other stories worth telling in this city along the River Mersey.
From my window of our fourth-floor room at the Hope Hotel, I could see a lot of the skyline and important buildings — every place had an intriguing angle. For instance the city has two cathedrals, one at each end of Hope Street. The enormous Roman Catholic Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King is bright white and modern. At the other end of Hope Street is Liverpool Anglican Cathedral, built by architect Giles Gilbert Scott, who was 22 at the time he started the project in 1902 and later went on to give England its iconic red phone booths.
From our window, too, we could see the outlines of the city's most iconic buildings, the Three Graces, as they're known. Ornate and huge creations, the Royal Liver Building, the Cunard Building and the Port of Liverpool Building were built in the late 1800s, the city's shipping heyday, and were symbols of Liverpool's international prestige and commercial prowess. They came to define the city's skyline and remain an anchor, shall we say, of the waterfront.
Superlambanana?
That waterfront is still bustling, now with visitors and locals and attractions. It's the strategic place to start exploring the city. And if you're so inclined, it's a good spot for a selfie with the Fab Four; a life-size bronze of the Beatles was installed right on the waterfront opposite the Three Graces just last year.
Pier Head, as the waterfront site of the Three Graces is known, is also where you'll find the Museum of Liverpool, the largest national museum built in Britain in more than a century.
You'll probably notice the strange sculptures ensconced around the Museum of Liverpool — looking kind of like cows but somehow different. These are a breed special to Liverpool: the Superlambanana, a cross between a banana and a lamb — both common cargo at the city's docks in the last century. The sculpture was originally designed by artist Taro Chielo both as comment on the dangers of genetic engineering and also as a nod to the city's history.
Liverpool has two actual docking areas, and next door to Pier Head is the Albert Dock, which when constructed in 1846 was itself a groundbreaking sort of pier architecture. Today, it is home to both the Merseyside Maritime Museum and the Tate Liverpool, established in 2008 as the northern outpost for the Tate's collection of contemporary art. On the third floor of the Maritime Museum you will find — an indication of its significance in Liverpool's history — the International Slavery Museum. Yes, a great deal of human cargo went through this port in the 18th and 19th centuries.
On the way to the Tate, check out the candy store adjacent to it: There's a portrait of the Beatles in Sgt. Pepper outfits — a mosaic of 15,000 jelly beans.
Leaving the waterfront, you have your pick of neighborhoods to explore and significant sites to see. We had to visit the Cavern neighborhood — Mathew Street in particular, where you'll find not only a new Cavern Club (the original place the Beatles played burned down, but this place is also an actual cavern). All along Mathew Street, the music scene and nightlife are thriving. The 20-year-old music festival held on its streets every year has become so popular that it has been turned into the citywide Liverpool International Music Festival.
You can also stop in at the Grapes pub, a Beatles favorite that looks pretty much as it did when the boys hung out before or after a gig at the Cavern.
There are photos all over the walls and ceiling of the Liverpool lads, their friends and other musicians. One of them shows the boys around at a table in one corner of a room off the main bar. The table is still there and the whole setting is the same; so I sat down where John Lennon was sitting in the picture. I looked out at the place, trying to see what he would have seen.
I saw a place supposedly famous, but fairly empty that night. Just some older guys, gathered around the smoky bar, talking in the Scouse accent associated with Liverpool, which I couldn't quite understand. The jukebox played "Brown Eyed Girl," and every so often a burst of laughter from the locals would eclipse Van Morrison.
Liverpudlian spirit
Anywhere else, this scene would be different. Crowded, expensive, full of selfie-ing patrons and self-conscious conversations. Liverpool goes its own way. And in the end, it is the attitude of these people that I remember most.
The people of Liverpool have been voted the funniest and friendliest in the country. Don't worry, you will meet them, because that's how the locals are.
And so I met a man without a home, on the steps of the Bombed Out Church (as it's widely known, though its actual name is the Church of St. Luke). He wanted not a handout but for me to take his photo as he posed arms up and crooked into a wrestler's victory pose — a fighter, not down, not out. And the manager of the Hope Hotel, who didn't want to give me a public relations pitch or a "site inspection" tour of every room before I left; she just wanted to help me with my luggage and hand me a small guide to her city.
Or the station manager at Albert Dock, who asked where we wanted to go, then gave us his opinion on our day's itinerary and then could barely restrain himself from leading us off himself.
OK, John, George, Ringo, and Paul they're not. But whether you go to Liverpool in search of Beatles or to dive into its cultural riches or even arrive as a fanatic for one of its two football teams, that tenacious Liverpudlian spirit will ultimately win you over, and be the reason you want to come back.
