Yesterday, Gorgeous Husband and I decided to have a day out on the train and go to Liverpool, his home town. We wanted to see the artist Rolf Harris's exhibition at the Walker Art Gallery before its closing date.
I decided to wear these wide-leg flowing palazzo pants, even though I noticed they were a little long and floppy. "I'll have to watch them," I thought, as I stepped on the hem now and then.
At the train station, we had a few minutes, so I decided to nip into the cafe and get a cappuccino for the journey. As it turned out, the fellow with the cappuccino was a bit slow, the train arrived sooner than I anticipated, and Gorgeous Husband was saying, "Come on! The train's in."
So, I rushed, didn't I? Not a good move. Just as I went through the cafe door onto the station platform, I tripped myself up with the floppy, flappy pants. I saw the concrete coming up to meet me, and suddenly, there was cappuccino everywhere, the camera that I had been holding popped open, the batteries rolled out, and I felt my chin smack onto the cement, and I was in a heap.
Because the train was about to depart, we hastily gathered up me and my scattered belongings and boarded. I realized that I had skinned my right knee, my right elbow, and although there was not much blood, I had given myself a good upper cut on the underside of my jaw as well. Amazingly, the fabric of the jacket and trousers did not rip, so outwardly, it looked like nothing happened (other than I realized I had cappuccino in my hair.)
Was Gorgeous Husband worried, sympathetic, kind and concerned? Yes, he was, (bless him) although I felt a right pratt.
The conductor came up just then, asked for our tickets and enquired if I was OK. When I said I was, he said, "That's good, because that was a real gold medal swan dive you took!"
What a start to the journey! But once onboard, there was nothing to do but settle down, recover and go on to Liverpool.
We walked over the Walker Art Gallery and after having a cappuccino (which I actually got to drink this time!) we enjoyed the Rolf Harris exhibiton, which was free. How good is that? There were a lot of his paintings and a very informative video in which he is filmed in the process of doing his artwork. They had a replica of his artist's studio, his "painting boots" on display, and even a pair of his old painting jeans framed and hanging on the wall.
In the gift area of the exhibition, you could buy his original pencil sketches, books on his life, limited edition prints, and even some original oils. I checked out the price of one original painting, which had been sold, and said to Goregous Husband, "How much do you think that is?"
He guessed £3,000.
"Check the label," I suggested. It was £53,000. His eyebrows were in his hairline!
Here I am with the Fab Four statue at the site of the old Cavern Club
Seeing as we were in Liverpool, we had to do the touristy thing and go down Matthew Street to see where the Beatles used to play at the Cavern. The original location has been made into this little shopping area, with these statues of the four. Next door, there is a replica of what the Cavern would have looked like. It was too claustrophobic for my liking, but GH assured me that it was a faithful reproduction of what the original looked like, having been there himself.
So, the moral of the story is: don't rush. If you think something may trip you up, it probably will.