I'm trapped under a cold. It's damned annoying. It's one of those persistent, makes you feel like crap but doesn't actually debilitate you colds, which mean all you want to do is wrap yourself up in a duvet with a cup of tea and a Futurama DVD. As a result I'm pinned inside the house with no chance of getting out there and tarting.
In the meantime, I've cobbled together a post from some of my leftovers. While I'm out and about, I sometimes see something which amuses me, or interests me, so I snap a pic in case there's room for it in the usual posts. When it comes to posting the thing, though, I find that the pics sometimes interrupt the flow of the writing; that I had an interesting picture, but it didn't fit in with my general thrust at that point, and so it got left out. So this post rectifies that with a few oddments that are hanging around the Merseytart folder on my PC.
This was at St Michaels, on the Northern Line. The local children had obviously been given the task of designing a logo to represent Liverpool for the Capital of Culture, and their efforts were turned into a frieze on the southbound platform. Something about the colours here just appealed to me. Shame about the blob of frigging chewing gum, though. Since terrorists intent on paralysing our nation's transportation system have taken to putting the bombs on themselves rather than litter bins, can we have our bins back? Not that the ignorant sods would probably use it. Really, random executions would stop these chewing gum abusers. That was all a bit Daily Mail, wasn't it? Let's move on. Well done children of St Michaels for your efforts, and well done people of Merseyrail for putting it on the platform. There should be more of this sort of thing, I think, little features on platforms to catch your eye.
Watch out for flying sausages. (Readers under the age of thirty: you don't know what you missed). This is in West Kirby, and it made me smile for a moment.
Sometimes a photo doesn't make it because my photography skills are somewhat, erm, lacking. The above picture does the dank, evocative, moody subway at Port Sunlight no favours whatsoever, which is a shame, because it's great. I'm probably alone in this opinion, but I like dark oppressive railway subways, and this is a great example of the type. (I should imagine my opinion would be radically different if I were, say, a thirteen year old girl using this subway at ten o'clock at night). It's strangely wide, and divided down the middle with this fence, for no apparent reason. It looks like something out of Children of Men; I'm expecting Pam Ferris to be herded down it with a load of screaming immigrants. Can I just add parenthetically that I loved Children of Men, and that it makes me cry like a baby every time? When they carry the baby out of the building and all the soldiers stop to look, I turn it a blubbing wreck of snot and tears, and I do not cry at any films, because, essentially, I'm dead inside.
The lovely 1930s concrete platform roof at West Kirby, two proud wings thrusting into space.
A rarity on this site: a picture of a train! This is taken at Walton station, and it shows a train headed towards Ormskirk. I am afraid I have little or no interest in the trains themselves. They look very nice, in their new grey and yellow livery, and they are usually comfortable and clean, but that's where my fascination ends. I'm all about the railway architecture, and frankly, I couldn't give a monkeys if this is train number 49728. I'm not sure if that makes me more tragic or less. (I will say that I prefer electric trains to diesels, but that's mainly to annoy someone I know who loves diesel trains - what fascinating circles I move in!) Gaol spotters will be pleased to note that you can also just about see the prison wall in the distance.
This is on the Birkenhead swimming pool, just round the corner from Conway Park. For years I had wandered past here and assumed the streak of silver was just an abstract piece of metal art, but no; in close up, it's actually a swimmer! He looks a bit Stanley Matthews in those shorts, but still; it's very nice. I actually now feel sorry for metal man, as he's sort of marooned on the side of a not very impressive brick building. He'd be much better out over the entrance.
That'll do. Normal service will be resumed soon, I promise - I'm hoping to get out next week...