The "Incredibly Impossible to Derail This Thread" thread | Page 453 | Fab Forum | The Beatles Bible

I’ve only been on my phone today. I just Googled open software updater. There are some tips on uninstalling it out there.

@Funny Paper, have you noticed that our new member @She_is_leaving_home is from Slovenia?

https://www.beatlesbible.com/f…..2/#p136161

I’m looking at these directions I found on the web and trying to figure out just how far you would be walking to do exactly as this guy says.

I’d recommend, just for a change of pace (and to keep the suspense building) that you start with a lovely area, Sefton Park. It’s near Ullet Road; Croxteth Drive, Aigburth Drive and Mossley Hill Drive all surround it. This large city park is actually nice for a pleasant stroll. In 1963 Dezo Hoffman posed the Boys leaping wildly into the air, with several apartment buildings and expanses of lawn as backdrop, for cover art on several EP’s. You can find almost the very same view, if you want, and photograph your friends the same way…not quite the thrill of posing in the Abbey Road zebra crossing ( = crosswalk), but it’ll do for starters. There’s also a small boating lake at the end of the park. Legend has it that in the early thirties Alfred Lennon met Julia Stanley here, thus beginning a peculiar, if productive, romance.

Before seeing the Fabs’ boyhood homes, you’re so close to another landmark that you might as well continue onwards from Sefton Park to Greenbank Lane; at the end, jog right briefly on Greenbank *Road* and you’ll be standing at Penny Lane .

It’s really here; a modest street, at first lined with houses, then a small railway bridge (more houses beneath, with lovely brickwork), and then a small cluster of shops—nothing fancy, quite suburban. You can walk its length easily in a few minutes, and you’ll know you’ve arrived when you see the famous roundabout—a sensible system the British have for the meeting of two or more streets. The bank mentioned in the song is still there, though I didn’t see a barber; must’ve closed long ago. The shelter in the middle of the roundabout is intact, though boarded up, but people can sit here (on sunny days) and enjoy the busy traffic.

And once you’ve been there, you may notice a delightful phenomenon: you’ll never hear the song again without being transported back to this spot, instantly, or seeing it in your mind. Being in Liverpool gives *all* the Beatles’ songs a striking resonance; like many ineffable mysteries in life, you’ll actually perceive this aura of meaning through some sense beyond the five normal ones. It’s almost as if their former presence here has transfered some sort of core-deep understanding to you. But don’t ask me to prove it scientifically.

At the roundabout you’ll find Smithdown Road; turn right and continue roughly southeast till Smithdown Road turns into Menlove Avenue. We all know who used to live here. The two-story house at 251 is surrounded by a black wrought-iron fence and dense, if thankfully short, foliage. It looks very much as it did when John was growing up here, though the decorated glass-panes in the window are obviously of recent origin.

People stop here frequently: huge tour buses, cars, cyclists, walkers. It’s a wonder there’s only a *small* sign reminding pilgrims that this is a private residence. Anyway, please don’t intrude beyond the front gate. Just stand and admire.

Close by, and walkable, is Beaconsfield Road. Walk down it about halfway and you’ll come to a big running wall; a red-painted ironwork gate with stylized berries and leaves; and a gatepost that says “Strawberry Field”. Singular. The gate is closed but you don’t want to go in, anyway; you want to stand before the little sign and read the graffiti from various travelers. Long ago, during John’s childhood, the orphanage that was run from here (in a Victorian brick building that has since been replaced) held carnivals, or “fetes” regularly. Now there’s a new building, and if you’re lucky you’ll see a face in one of the windows, peering curiously at you as you peer reverently across the fields.

Backtrack down Beaconsfield (if you can tear yourself away) up Menlove Avenue, and take the fork to Calderstones Road. Turn left at Harthill Road and you’ll be near Quarry Bank Grammar School, now called (after the park in which it’s situated) Calderstone’s Community Comprehensive School. You can wander into the front drive if you want and imagine the place where John and his young friends spent many wearying moments as schoolkids, but which nevertheless impressed John so much that to the end of his days he proudly wore the Quarry Bank tie. The day I was there (in the happy company, among others, of Geoff Eddy and Harold Somers, the latter our generous guide), the headmaster came out and spoke to us; agreed that the name change was ill-advised; and told us it would have been his pleasure to show us around had we only come earlier in the day; the school had been having its annual Christmas fete.

At the end of Calderstones Road is Allerton Road; and if you remember your Beatles history you’ll know that Dr. Macca comes from Allerton, a less-posh neighborhood than Woolton (whence John). If you follow Allerton Road all the way down to Cleveley or Chalfont Roads, you can turn west and jog right or left off the main boulevard, Mather Avenue, to Forthlin Road. Here was Paul’s dad’s humble abode; look for the house number 20. It’s a small, flat-fronted, connected row house with a few rose bushes in front and a fence. You might recall that Aunt Mimi did not approve of John’s practicing the guitar, so more often than not the incipient team of Lennon-McCartney would practice and compose here; there’s a photo of J and P strumming furiously over a notebook in which the words to “I Saw Her Standing There ” can be seen, and Mike McCartney, Paul’s younger brother, took that shot in the front room of the house at Forthlin Road.

You can do both.