Liverpool's Phoenix rises again

Liverpool is a world famous city for three reasons:
1. Its influence on world music; notably during the 60's heydays of the Beatles era and the Merseybeat sound.
2. It has been a pivotal port for the British Empire and its influence on world trade.
3. It has two famous Premier League football teams: red Liverpool and blue Everton.


We have arrived and are now settled in this north-western city of about half a million, and the contrasts of new and old are quite significant.

During the 1800's Liverpool enjoyed a wealth exceeding London's and was described by Disraeli as the "second city of the Empire". It was Britain's port in the infamous triangle of cotton, textiles and slave trading with Africa and America. Stately buildings were constructed that reflected the confidence of the city.

Liverpool was as important as Southampton as exit ports for the millions of poor emigrants who fled Britain to Australia, the US and Canada.

The city went through a steep decline during the 70's and 80's, and today there is evidence of neglect and decay. Once thriving docks now lie empty and derelict. Former mercantile red brick buildings and stores now stand decaying with grass overgrowing their rooves and with smashed windows.


Atop of the imposing Liver (rhymes with diver) Building sits two fabled Liver birds, but they may as well represent a Phoenix rising from the ashes of decay. They watch over a city transforming itself into a modern one keen to attract tourists. The Beatles have been rediscovered and reclaimed and one can hardly walk around town without hearing some Lennon-McCartney classic being played somewhere.

Modern architecture now dominates the Albert Dock and old Mersey waterfront. There is a lot of public and private money pouring in to make this city once again proud. Poorly planned post-war buildings are being razed and replaced with modern stylish buildings of glass and steel with sharp angles.

Liverpool is on the rise again. My next blog may show some images of the remnants of the era of neglect.

Those Great Victorians

The coming of the British railway saw the Victorian era produce a new breed of people never seen before.


Tourists.

Britain was crossed by railway lines that carried trains to all corners of the land. Bridges were built across the valleys and people flocked to small towns to taste the delights of England's green rolling countryside. As branch-line railways were closed by modern governments desiring efficiency, many small communities lost their livelihood and were cut off from the flocking tourists.

This weekend we journeyed through small Yorkshire mill towns in search of Brontë country. We travelled on the local steam train to the village of Haworth, where The Railway Children movie was set. We stayed right in town at the Old Apothecary, opposite the church and parsonage where Patrick Brontë took his fledgling family to stay in this northern town.

The Victorian great literary giants of Austen, the Brontë sisters, Dickens and Hardy all critically described the harsh hypocrisies of Victorian morals and conventions. Social class distinction and protection of wealth through marriage led to situations that were unsustainable, and opportunities for women were limited in this patriachal society.

Our weekend involved taking an informative tour of Haworth and listening to the tragic story of the short lives of the Brontës: Charlotte, Emily, Anne and Branwell, who died young from diseases such as consumption. Father Patrick buried his wife and all children in a short span of time here in town.

We walked the 10km trail to Wuthering Heights, watched the movie of the same name, and also Jane Eyre. This was a treasured cultural event for us.

Virginia Woolf visited this town that has become a Mecca for Brontë followers. She wrote, "Haworth expresses the Brontës; the Brontës express Haworth; they fit like a snail to its shell."

A highly recommended place to visit. But watch out for the parking inspectors - they are notoriously ruthless.

In Flanders Fields

Six weeks ago we began our European trip with a tour of Normandy's D-Day beaches. The decaying pill-boxes and rusting Mulberry harbour are the only remains of that horrific day in June '44.














The American cemetery with its row upon row of crosses reminded us of the scale of those killed that day. In Australia, we have no such cemeteries, since we are fortunate to not have had large-scale war on our own lands. But seeing these memorials made me be grateful for life.





Yesterday we visited Ypres and the fields of Flanders. Again we took a tour and witnessed the rows of crosses. However, the number of cemeteries is much more numerous here - to commemorate the half a million young lives killed on Belgium's fields.




We stood where Canadian surgeon poet John McCrae wrote in May 1915:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Each year I have listened to those speeches of the horrors of war at Anzac Day. But somehow the rows of crosses has sunk the message home in a way never felt before.

At the end of our trip tomorrow, we are to board a ferry at Dunkirk to have our own evacuation across the Channel to return to England shores.
I am now ready to go home.

Keeping in the Loop

As Aussies overseas we have tried to keep in contact with family, friends and news events. Each weekend, I check on how Geelong have been performing in preparing for another attempt at the AFL premiership.

But over the past month I have been focused on developments in our national politics, and how strange a picture it has been. When I left the country, Labour was riding high in the saddle. They had steered us through the worst of the GFC, their policies in education, the environment, and broadband seemed to be popular. Kevin Rudd's high poll ratings made him look invincible. The Libs were still sorting through the rubble of Abbott and Turnbull.

Well, how wrong we were. The political world changed dramatically while our backs were turned. Next thing I know, Julia Gillard has eliminated Rudd and an election has been called. Cabinet leaks, mad monks and warnings of invasions by asylum seekers and what appears to have been a directionless, bland and negative campaign have seen Labour's fortunes disappear and have led to this nil result.

We have listened to excellent ABC radio programs like Life Matters, Background Briefing and Counterpoint to keep abreast of developments. Also, Gruen Nation and Yes We Canberra have allowed us to be entertained and see some of the worst of political advertising.

This pathetic attempt to capture the middle ground by providing visionless policy has left us all feeling numb. The media is also to blame, with its horse race focus on polls and personalities. Stories of crocs choosing prime ministers, filleting fish, kicking footballs and standing under cars are trite and frustrating to the thinking voter.

And I used to think it wasn't as bad as in the US. How wrong I was.

I do like Phillip Adams' proposal to put a time limit on political election advertising.
3 minutes.
Minimum.
Remove these hit and run adverts and force our politicians to fill in the time with ideas that require some justification and argument.

We deserve better.

Bohemian Rhapsody

One of the biggest regrets we have while travelling is we needed more time in many places. And Prague needed more time. Three days isn't enough to see this exotic city where everything is within walking distance. Just as in so many European towns, the car is a hindrance and best left outside the city.

This city is the place to listen to the music of Queen and the Beatles. At least, we heard a lot of it while wandering the streets. Perhaps the Beatles music brings back memories of the Prague Spring in '68, when Russian tanks rolled into the city to squash any freedoms the Czechs hoped for during those heady days.


Fine dining at restaurants frequented by a young Einstein and writer Kafka, a day in the castle which overlooks the city, and seeing the art nouveau exhibition of Mucha's work were highlights.

This is a place to which we could return. So are Berlin, Munich, Provence, Lake Como and Rome. Another trip, perhaps?

Remembering the Lessons of History

One of the funniest Fawlty Towers episodes has misanthropic Basil whisper a warning to Polly, ‘Don’t mention the war.’ And, when one goes to Germany, heeding the same advice would be obvious.

However, when we visited here, we found it impossible to avoid thinking about this tragic event in history. There are so many memorials and signs that reference this pivotal period of Germany's recent past. Every city was affected in some way and even today, the signs are still obvious and poignant.

The rise and fall of the National Socialists has affected so much of Germany since. With so much of cities destroyed, buildings are categorised as pre-war or post-war and in many cities, very little survived. Reconstruction of the west under the Marshall plan produced an economic miracle and helped this country recover from the devastation. The pictures above show magnificent Cologne cathedral in 1945 and today.





We went to Dachau, and felt a sense of the horror of the concentration camps with their intention to kill millions through work. The wrought iron gates still display the chilling message: Arbeit Macht Frei. Visiting Berlin’s Judisches museum is also architecturally unsettling and portrays the tragic story of pogroms and displacement of the Jewish people over the centuries. One exhibit shows some of the few traces left of those sent off to the camps, such as a labelled suitcase as a personal reminder of its former owner.

Towns like Dorsten have placed small brass plaques on the footpaths commemorating the lives of Jewish families who once lived on these streets.


In Berlin, a visit to Norman Foster’s inspiring Reichstag's glass dome was worth the three hour wait. From its viewpoint, one can see memorials of events, including the Battle of Berlin that ended the war. The circular display beneath the spiral walkway tells the story and shows photographs of the Reichstag over the century.

Art galleries and museums also address the subject. Berlin’s Neue Art Gallery displays 20th Century art in categories of so-called Degenerate art or the Nazi regime’s preferred works. The local museum in Münster has exhibits describing the destruction of over 95% of this beautiful town and its subsequent recreation. Some remnants of buildings have been kept to remind us of war's devastation.

Measures like these have reflected a country that has come to terms with its difficult past and not shied from the horrors, but determined never to repeat them. Today it is illegal to display images of the Nazi era, such as flying the Nazi flag. A recent court case convicted a man for using a Hitler speech as his phone ring-tone.

Also evident are reminders of the Cold War years that divided a nation and took nearly 50 years to reunite. We traced the remnants of Berlin’s Wall to view sections painted with messages of hope. Standing there, one can see the difference in buildings on both sides of the former wall, with the East’s functional concrete structures decorated with social realism artwork celebrating the noble worker. You can even hire a clapped-out Trabant - convertible - to travel the streets of Berlin in style!

Germany is a wonderful place to visit, but reminders of the war are frequent and sad. If one can't mention the war, at least we remember it's impact on a continent, and indeed the entire world. Let's escape the reminders and visit another country - and go to Amsterdam - to see Anne Frank's house!