English Cathedrals: It's in My Ears and in My Eyes

The day began simply enough with a charming walk along the river in York. There was light rain but it was warm and besides American students jogging in the rain and locals hurrying to work along the walkways, it was a remarkedly unremarkable day.

Our plan was to walk the river, then walk the Shambles which is loaded with shops and tea & coffee places. Most of the retail was still closed so we pretty much had the place to ourselves.

There was a final walk along the river and a cab to the train station where we had plenty of time to catch the train to Liverpool. It left from Platform #3 at 11:15. We cued up. We waited. And at 11:06 the train arrived on platform three and we hopped on with our bags. Secured them and headed for our seats...which were occupied.

But, I learned one thing or two......

This country is either smaller than I realized or the trains of England are faster than I realized.
I think it's a combination of both.

What happened next is actually, totally England's fault and it's because they run their trains on time. What kind of way is that to run a railroad? In America we figure if we come within a three hour block of time....we're good.

England schedules trains to different cities on the same track but at different times. It's like they know what they're doing when it comes to this train stuff. Plus, when they schedule trains tightly on the same track, they assume that folks will know what train they are getting on before they board.

As for us...we assume that an overhead announcement or signage would announce what train it was that was entering the station. But we were wrong, hence people were in our seats because this was the Non- Stop Express train to London and not the train to Liverpool. By the time the occupants in "our" seats informed us...and we rushed to the train doors....the train was swiftly moving out of the station.

So it's clearly the fault of the National Rail System in England that we boarded the wrong train. And here is where my two revelations about England come in:

The country is a bit smaller than America, so a quick trip from York to London and then to Liverpool sounds epic but I suppose is the equivalent to Cleveland to Columbus to Detroit.

Second, these trains move!....they close the doors and travel quickly and efficiently.

We reached London in record time. The conductor and several very helpful Brits assured us that we were not the first nor would we be the last to catch the wrong train and he gave us a computerized ticket for what we wanted to take when we re-connected in London and what station to go to. And assured us that we would be in Liverpool by 4:15 instead of our original 2 pm. It seemed do-able.

An hour later the conductor came up the aisle and sat leaned over and said,

"So are you still going to Liverpool from London?"

"Yes, we are going to do it!" I energetically said.

"ATTA BOY!" and he slapped me on the shoulder and moved on.

I felt like the star football player in the big game who had his bell rung and had to sit out a quarter and then the coach comes over and asks if I'm ready to go back in and I say, "Send me in coach!" and he says, "Atta Boy!" and slaps me on the back as I rush into the game amidst the roar of the crowd.

London, Kings Cross Station. As we walk down the station some fellow from the train who obviously knew of our self-imposed re-routing came up to me and said, "So you are taking the Tube from Kings Cross to Euston Station?" I told him that seemed to be our plan but he suggested just staying on the street and walking five blocks rather than going down to the Tube and going just one stop and re-emeging at Euston Station.

What's with these Brits? They operate a great Railway System and then help Yanks when they go the wrong way.

So we took his advice. It worked. The Liverpool train was a straighrt shoot. We arrived in a rather grand, though a bit gray big city. Sort of felt like Cleveland and our hotel was supposedly near the City Center ("Centre"....if you want the British spelling) The Info booth was closed. I went out on the street and looked around for a bit...nothing.....and so I asked a local woman who didn't know but was so helpful that she asked some guy who looked like a stevedore walking past. He too was local and neiither had heard of this new hotel and they were both trying to be so helpful that I thought the woman was going to phone The Lord Mayor and solicit his help.

I returned to the train station and found the Virgin Trains booking place (By the way....thanks Richard Branson....your Virgin Train design totally rocks!). The agent was baffled by our hotel name and after several Google searches and a phone call or two she located it. It was so new that locals didn't know of it but Travelocity did and that is how I booked it and how I got a great introductory rate which will be triple whenever people actually know it's in the city.

But here is the reason, I wanted to come to Liverpool. My cathedral tours brought me to York and that is close to Liverpool and I figured it was time to visit another shrine, so no matter that I went back to London to go to Liver[ool. I had arrived. No cathedrals. Just my own sacred journey: A long and winding road, if I may put it one way.