A brief interruption in blissful tales of Florence

Ila and I are back in the UK for a few days. Tourists to the UK often hit London, maybe Oxford and Cambridge, Stratford upon Avon, you know the cultural highlights. The North of England, Wales, Scotland, the west country and N. Ireland don't make the agenda. It is a shame.

Liverpool is a fabulous tourist destination if you're looking for a little theater, some interesting history, warm people, and lots of pubs. I definitely recommend it.

While I recommend L'pool I'd be hard pushed to recommend the town my family lives in. Today, as I pushed Ila in the borrowed pram, fighting strong gusts and what I think was light snow, I can't imagine coming back to the town my family lives in outside of L'pool for anything other than a visit. In another place, maybe outside the north, there would have been something more made of the historic center, but the place was gutted in the 80's with the loss of the big employer (the wire company) in town and then later by the opening of one of the biggest Tescos in Europe. I can remember factory bell sounding in the morning for the workers to get up and when it stopped. There is a lot of history here, really there is, but the decay of the town center just is so bloody depressing it adds to grim weather and derelict areas. Redeeming qualities to the area: I have family here, I still have wonderful friends here, the people are warm and funny, the chips are lovely, there is beauty here under the grey skies, Daniel Craig (he of James Bond fame) grew up here.

Now Daniel and I are just a year apart...what are the chances I met him in a pub here sometime before he took off to pursue a humble acting career?