I love Liverpool. I’ve only been there twice, and that’s not nearly, nearly enough. I can’t quite say why I like it so. Maybe because I have only been there alone; maybe because of the mighty, mighty river Mersey; maybe because I always have time to reflect.
There’s a family story that, on the night before it was officially opened, my Grandad walked through the Queensway Tunnel under the Mersey with his uncle. That nocturnal adventure would have taken place on the 17th July 1934, the day after my Grandad, Frederick James Walker, turned 14.
The rest of the story I do not know.