|The Baltic Fleet|
Outside the Crown in Lime Street a group of drinkers having a smoke began singing "David Cameron is a wanker". A marcher from the FBU was chatting up a young police woman, and I heard another police woman saying to a veteran marcher, "I suppose we're a bit like civil servants too", and he replied, "Yes, you are". Horns were blown in support by buses, cars, lorries and one road sweeping vehicle, and groups on the pavements clapped and waved as we went by. The irate, alienated public our leaders warned us of were nowhere to be seen.
|The Main Bridewell, when |
it was, er, a bridewell.
From there we went to the Bridewell in Campbell Square, a pub converted from the old lock up, and you can drink in the former cells. There beers were from the Liverpool One Brewery (which is actually situated in Liverpool 3), and I had two light beers, Three Graces and Liverpool Light; I had two of the latter, so I must have preferred that one.
We finished in the Globe, a pub I've written about before, but the range, unusually, had only obvious beers; we settled on Bombardier. Leaving for last buses and trains, we were accosted by a drunk who told us we shouldn't have gone on strike, what about the poor kids? It turned out he thought we were teachers. I asked, "What about the poor kids who lost a days schooling for the royal wedding?" But that was all right, apparently. The argument went from bad to worse when I discovered he hadn't a clue what the strikes had been about.
Anyway, that was the only sour note; it was a great day, both for the march and the drinks afterwards with good friends in my favourite city.