So, I wondered down through the Liverpool Christmas town centre, with stalls and trees and lights and music, and thought how beautiful it is, this city. There's been a real explosion of architecture with all manner of new buildings beside the grandeur of the Victorian Merchant's richesse. Its a pleasure to walk down through the town to the waterside. Because there had been violent storms the estuary was much choppier than usual, and the fierceness of the dark winter sea was frightening. I thought of all those people sailing out of this harbour, thinking of their new lives in America, and not so very long ago - waving goodbye to the Liver Birds and wondering how they would feel if and when they might be lucky enough to see the Statue of Liberty.
We did our first show to a packed Rodewald Suite and George Seaton and his lovely staff with Ewen on the sound and lights gave us their all. We, in return, gave ours, and after a small red wine I slipped back and slept. Saturday morning was sunny and I headed back to the docks and marina to catch the most glorious Turner-esque sky to the west. Lunch in a fine Italian in the little lanes up by the burned out church and then another show. Another great audience, another small red wine and it was Sunday and time to head back to London on Virgin trains. I won't hear a word against Virgin trains. They're always good to me, and for the most part, on time.
And next…..well, lets see….Mari and I this coming weekend at St James Theatre.
And more of that when we get there…..and then its New York City where the boys are pretty…….
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