In My Life

On this date exactly a year ago, in 2008, I had one of the best days in my life.

May 15
Liverpool milks the Beatles for all they are worth. The hostel at which I stayed, besides being quite clean, spacious, nice, and friendly, was decorated with Beatles photos, paintings, and canvas prints. The different floors were named Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields. I had quite a nice breakfast at the hostel consisting of cornflakes, eggs, bacon, beans, toast, and tea. I then set out for my second day in Liverpool. First I had to go back to the train station to buy my return ticket to London. As I walked out of the Lime Street station, an old, grizzled man with no front teeth said something to me. I didn’t understand, so I said, “sorry?” He said, “I’m a poet. And I said that your smile could make the sun shine all day.” He then took my hand and kissed it. There I was at the Liverpool train station having my hand kissed by an old hobo whose only introduction was, “I’m a poet.” It was utterly fabulous. Incredible. I was smiling hugely the entire time in Liverpool. I also liked that he made reference to the sun, because the Beatles have many lovely lyrics about the sun. I loved that he saw something poetic in me—something that made him stop in his tracks and spout some poetry! Yet another positive encounter with an old man—The Poet.
I then went on a tour run by the National Trust that went inside John and Paul’s childhood homes. This tour was simply amazing. To be in John and Paul’s bedrooms! This really made them come alive for me as real people. To think that they stood in exactly the same space, that they slept in that bed! Sometimes the Beatles seem like fictional characters or untouchable stars. But now they appeared to me as real people, immediate and close. It felt simultaneously real and surreal. Each house had a custodian/caretaker who lives in the house and keeps it safe. They both had fantastic Liverpool accents and talked about meeting Paul. The houses were very, very small and quite modest, because of course John and Paul started off as just local Liverpool lads—biking through the quiet streets, going to church garden parties, mowing the lawn. Going into the houses really made me feel like a I knew them, almost as if they were old uncles of mine.
John and Paul’s houses are quite far from the center of Liverpool, but the van dropped us off back at the Cavern, in the city center. And who should I run into yet again at the Cavern but Neil, complete with cigarette hanging jauntily out of the corner of his mouth. I told him I was planning on going to the Beatles Story, a museum-type thing down by the Albert Dock. I asked him about that interview possibility and he said he’d look into it and come get me at the docks—it was not out of his way at all.
So I went on my way to the Beatles Story. It had different rooms replicating important moments in the Beatles’ story. It had some impressive paraphernalia, screens with interviews of various people, and panels explaining every stage of the Beatles. It included the white piano that John Lennon played in the “Imagine” video. I was in there when, sure enough, Neil came and found me. He led me out to where a reporter was waiting. I don’t remember the reporter’s name. I felt completely incredulous. I could not believe it was actually happening. Me, little Kristina Caffrey, giving an interview to the Liverpool Echo! It was beyond my wildest dreams. Neil had to leave on his next tour, so I bade him a very warm farewell and thanked him for a great time in Liverpool.
The reporter and I went into the Starbuck’s beside the Beatles museum and I had the only cup of coffee I had during my entire stay in England. The reporter was ridiculously cute, but judging by his accent, not a native of Liverpool. I asked where he was from, and he answered somewhere in Yorkshire near Leeds. I asked him if he got a lot of Beatle stories. He said a fair amount, but with all of the horrible stories in the news these days, people would appreciate a good, positive story. He said that when he had come to Liverpool, he had to quickly get up on his Beatles knowledge. He asked me a bunch of questions. By that point in the whole Jeopardy experience, I had become quite comfortable giving interviews. He asked all the right questions—questions whose answers I had rehearsed many times. How did I get into the Beatles? Isn’t it a bit odd for a 21 year old American girl? What do your friends think? What’s your favorite song? Have you seen them in concert? We went outside to await the photographer. The reporter and I sat on a bench discussing Caffrey’s Irish Ale. The photographer arrived and took my picture in front of the Beatles Story. I then went back inside the museum and finished looking around. It had a marvelous gift shop where I splurged on some Beatles items.
I got a train back to London and spent 2 and a half hours listening to the Beatles and squirming with delight over the incredible experience I had just had. I felt deeply happy, but I also had butterflies in my stomach. I had the same giddy feeling that I had on the flight back from Los Angeles after winning Jeopardy. I kept asking myself, “Did that really just happen?” and then realizing that “oh my god that really just happened!” I felt so happy and positive and I felt that, in fact, the world is a good place to live in. With the Beatles in the air and sheep in the fields, the world seemed perfectly okay.
I am so glad that I went to Liverpool. It was completely worth it—more than worth it. It was magical. It would have made me happy regardless, but the fact that I had a story to tell made it extra special.
Before I left, I sat down in a park that had a plaque to the Beatles and I listened to my favorite song of all time, “In My Life.” John started writing this song after taking a bus trip around his old childhood haunts. I can say that in my life, going to Liverpool was a great, seminal experience.
I went back to London and then the next day, sadly, had to say goodbye to my adopted homeland and go back to America.