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moonvoiceI've been putting off this post because I just couldn't stand Liverpool. It was partly my fault re: where we booked the Airbnb + accessibility issues (I was too shafted to catch public transport into the city), but we were also just in a deeply unsafe place, in a really hideously appointed flat (I will go into details soon, lmao).
Anyway, here is a picture of Bella, she's a rescue dog from a backyard breeder who forced her to have a litter at one. This was at my Uncle Simon's house (for the record, I have a stepfather called Simon, a brother called Simon, two Uncles called Simon, and I'm pretty sure there's more Simons around that family as well). It's my second ever time meeting him, he's quiet and lovely, and looks so much like Mum.
Mum and Simon and Ronnie in the background. Simon has always had rottweilers, and he loves them tremendously, keeping up with their obedience and socialisation etc. Ronnie was only about one year old I think, but he was beautiful. My brother loved him so much (I think my brother wants a rotty, actually). I had to be careful, because I had occasion to learn a little while ago that I'm rather more allergic to dogs than I thought, but I still did a lot of petting.
Mum and Simon in the hotel that Simon (the stepfather, not the brother, lmao) picked for us to stay in. I love this photo, because Mum was so relaxed and happy. But then she realised I was taking photos and promptly sat up and 'hid' her stomach (see the next photo).
Mum being cheeky and hiding her stomach.
It turns out I had one photo of Leeds, and this is it. Mum sitting outside having a smoke, and me outside with her for company, looking over the front sloped garden, and taking a photo of a an azalea.
Leeds was rough. The place we stayed was not quite what we expected, though in many ways, it was also great and large and created good family experiences. I have two gay Uncles in Leeds, Steve and Dan. Steve is a gruff baker who works for Sainsbury's (I think he's like, the main baker who does the stuff to be sent out to the outlets), and Dan is a bus driver, with a lovely camp Yorkshire accent. I don't have photos of them, but it was great spending time with them. They have two rescue cats they dote on, and Dan and I played a ton of Pokemon Go together, and I traded him a Kangaskhan (the region exclusive Pokemon in Australia - I only had one unfortunately, I should've gotten more for people).
I liked Leeds, but I couldn't do much. I didn't see the city. I didn't see a friend who gave me a heads up that she'd be happy to come to me, even. I lay down a lot, and I did some cross stitch (and lost the page of the cross stitch, incidentally, so...um, I've started a new project? Lol). I'd like to go back to Leeds again and see a bit more of it.
I noticed that the locals were sort of semi-proud but also a bit self-conscious of their city. Never were we asked more often 'what did you think of Leeds' than from the people who actually were lived and raised there. I loved what I saw of it. I loved the people I met there. My family there are lovely. It feels like a working class town that pulls itself together and looks after itself. I'm sure that having six people ask me 'what did you think of Leeds???' isn't necessarily reflective of most people, but I was surprised how many corners it came from.
I like Leeds.
Next, Liverpool. This was the part of the trip where we split off to pick up Silvia from Manchester Airport, and we were leaving my family behind to do their own thing (we wouldn't see them for about another four weeks, when Mum and Simon picked us up from the airport).
I have no photos of the place we stayed (except the beautiful entrance, lol). But...oh god, you know, I don't know if I have the energy to relay this. But when we walked in, we were assailed by the most godawful smell. It was like a physical blow. The fridge door was *open* and a shelf had been removed. Obviously, something had rotted in the fridge, and a cleaner had decided the shelf was too gross and removed that and everything else.
But because they didn't open any windows and just opened the fridge door to vent the smell, all it succeeded in doing was make the entire place reek. I opened all the windows (the ones that worked, anyway) and it took about 5 hours to vent the smell to something reasonable (it never actually fully went away, and any food we put in that fridge smelled of it when we took it with us).
Unfortunately, we hadn't realised that the radiators down one whole side of the flat weren't working. So when Silvia and I closed the windows later - because it was freezing (we chose cold over 'oh god I'm going to throw up from the smell'), that was when I realised the radiators were only working in two places: Silvia's room, and one bathroom. Incidentally, Silvia's radiator was two inches away from her bed, along the length of it, which meant she baked every night. (The temperature adjustors didn't work).
Glen and I had wanted a twin room, but instead, the owners had padlocked two single beds together, then given us a thin, threadbare quilt that didn't actually cover both mattresses. There was no extra bedding, no extra pillows. The curtains were white, translucent, and straight up broken in the lounge (couldn't be closed all the way) leaving us open to the glare of streetlights every night.
It was one of the most expensive places I booked. And the only place I left an utterly scathing review on.
Home sweet home
Walking around the local streets, here is the first of the fenced off churches:
This one comes with barbed wire!
Classy.
Each wire is a power line going to a different flat.
Anyway, we went to Liverpool mostly so Glen could see a game (he didn't), and so that he could see a friend (he did). So it did what it was supposed to do. Glen enjoyed the city itself, but I would be happy to never go back. I know every place has its rough areas, but unfortunately the combination of experiences here has just cemented Liverpool in my mind as a 'you know what? There's a lot of other places I've never been, let's never go there again.'
Next, Scotland!
Anyway, here is a picture of Bella, she's a rescue dog from a backyard breeder who forced her to have a litter at one. This was at my Uncle Simon's house (for the record, I have a stepfather called Simon, a brother called Simon, two Uncles called Simon, and I'm pretty sure there's more Simons around that family as well). It's my second ever time meeting him, he's quiet and lovely, and looks so much like Mum.
Mum and Simon and Ronnie in the background. Simon has always had rottweilers, and he loves them tremendously, keeping up with their obedience and socialisation etc. Ronnie was only about one year old I think, but he was beautiful. My brother loved him so much (I think my brother wants a rotty, actually). I had to be careful, because I had occasion to learn a little while ago that I'm rather more allergic to dogs than I thought, but I still did a lot of petting.
Mum and Simon in the hotel that Simon (the stepfather, not the brother, lmao) picked for us to stay in. I love this photo, because Mum was so relaxed and happy. But then she realised I was taking photos and promptly sat up and 'hid' her stomach (see the next photo).
Mum being cheeky and hiding her stomach.
It turns out I had one photo of Leeds, and this is it. Mum sitting outside having a smoke, and me outside with her for company, looking over the front sloped garden, and taking a photo of a an azalea.
Leeds was rough. The place we stayed was not quite what we expected, though in many ways, it was also great and large and created good family experiences. I have two gay Uncles in Leeds, Steve and Dan. Steve is a gruff baker who works for Sainsbury's (I think he's like, the main baker who does the stuff to be sent out to the outlets), and Dan is a bus driver, with a lovely camp Yorkshire accent. I don't have photos of them, but it was great spending time with them. They have two rescue cats they dote on, and Dan and I played a ton of Pokemon Go together, and I traded him a Kangaskhan (the region exclusive Pokemon in Australia - I only had one unfortunately, I should've gotten more for people).
I liked Leeds, but I couldn't do much. I didn't see the city. I didn't see a friend who gave me a heads up that she'd be happy to come to me, even. I lay down a lot, and I did some cross stitch (and lost the page of the cross stitch, incidentally, so...um, I've started a new project? Lol). I'd like to go back to Leeds again and see a bit more of it.
I noticed that the locals were sort of semi-proud but also a bit self-conscious of their city. Never were we asked more often 'what did you think of Leeds' than from the people who actually were lived and raised there. I loved what I saw of it. I loved the people I met there. My family there are lovely. It feels like a working class town that pulls itself together and looks after itself. I'm sure that having six people ask me 'what did you think of Leeds???' isn't necessarily reflective of most people, but I was surprised how many corners it came from.
I like Leeds.
Next, Liverpool. This was the part of the trip where we split off to pick up Silvia from Manchester Airport, and we were leaving my family behind to do their own thing (we wouldn't see them for about another four weeks, when Mum and Simon picked us up from the airport).
I have no photos of the place we stayed (except the beautiful entrance, lol). But...oh god, you know, I don't know if I have the energy to relay this. But when we walked in, we were assailed by the most godawful smell. It was like a physical blow. The fridge door was *open* and a shelf had been removed. Obviously, something had rotted in the fridge, and a cleaner had decided the shelf was too gross and removed that and everything else.
But because they didn't open any windows and just opened the fridge door to vent the smell, all it succeeded in doing was make the entire place reek. I opened all the windows (the ones that worked, anyway) and it took about 5 hours to vent the smell to something reasonable (it never actually fully went away, and any food we put in that fridge smelled of it when we took it with us).
Unfortunately, we hadn't realised that the radiators down one whole side of the flat weren't working. So when Silvia and I closed the windows later - because it was freezing (we chose cold over 'oh god I'm going to throw up from the smell'), that was when I realised the radiators were only working in two places: Silvia's room, and one bathroom. Incidentally, Silvia's radiator was two inches away from her bed, along the length of it, which meant she baked every night. (The temperature adjustors didn't work).
Glen and I had wanted a twin room, but instead, the owners had padlocked two single beds together, then given us a thin, threadbare quilt that didn't actually cover both mattresses. There was no extra bedding, no extra pillows. The curtains were white, translucent, and straight up broken in the lounge (couldn't be closed all the way) leaving us open to the glare of streetlights every night.
It was one of the most expensive places I booked. And the only place I left an utterly scathing review on.
Home sweet home
Walking around the local streets, here is the first of the fenced off churches:
This one comes with barbed wire!
Classy.
Each wire is a power line going to a different flat.
Anyway, we went to Liverpool mostly so Glen could see a game (he didn't), and so that he could see a friend (he did). So it did what it was supposed to do. Glen enjoyed the city itself, but I would be happy to never go back. I know every place has its rough areas, but unfortunately the combination of experiences here has just cemented Liverpool in my mind as a 'you know what? There's a lot of other places I've never been, let's never go there again.'
Next, Scotland!
no subject
Date: 2019-05-25 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-05-26 11:53 am (UTC)We don't have bedbugs here, so it's not something I remember to think about / count my blessings with, O.O