So for my own sanity I decided to have a break from blogging after the marathon all day and night election blog. Waking up the next day to that result I decided not to offer any views on events as not to depress myself anymore. Anyways a few weeks on and a rather busy bank holiday weekend with lots to mention from the past and present. First up 10 years since Istanbul and 1 year since I completed the Liverpool marathon and both still to this day remain modern miracles. Last night seen the last ever night in the old 051 Club. Just under 21 years ago on a September evening back in 1994 I went the 051 for the first time. Looking back it really was a life changing event and sent me on a path to a few years serious clubbing. Now the old place was holding it’s last ever night before the gaff gets demolished. I was offered the chance to pop in there early doors but turned it down mainly because I was still hungover from a 2am finish at a friends house and a long walk home. Walking up Rose Lane to Mossley Hill church is a slog at the best of times never mind at 2:30am after 9 Desperados, a few beers, one port, numerous caramel vodkas and a few home measure whisky and cokes to finish off. Judging by the time it took me to make it home I must have at one point been taking one step up Rose Lane and back down two !! The second reason for not popping into the 051 was the memories are so cherished. No camera phones and posting on social media sites about the night as it happened. Just fond memories of the trip down the stairs into the dark club and getting settled in my speck (Pic Below) waiting for the fun to begin, your fave choon being dropped and getting to know other regulars in the club who like ourselves never missed a week and often went Friday and Saturday. Ahhhh the days of hair a 32″waist pair of jeans and not having to give a fuck about anything.
As with every good thing there is also some downsides. We could keep this lovely story going but lets nail a truth. At some point in the evening you would have to venture into the toilets and what an adventure it was. The bogs used to be steaming full of hot sweaty “Cheesy Quavers” and if you were unlucky enough you would have to venture into a trap to do your business. Now post midnight and a lot worse for wear yourself you would be lucky to find some wet toilet roll which had been on the floor and covered in what you hoped was “club mud” in extreme circumstances you could spot a half soggy flyer and just go for it sound in the knowledge that once your business was out of the way you could the sample the delights that the 051 could offer where you would be in your own world and dance the night away. The 051 will always have a special place in my heart and I would to go back to 1994 in a TARDIS and have one more night, though take a dump in the TARDIS’s toilets. Below is a snap from the pristine toilets from the last ever night. I can not even begin to explain some of the states I wandered down to the sinks below to wash my face and sort myself out or indeed wash my hands post using a flyer for what they definitely are not designed for. It would be great to walk up them stairs back out of the 051 for one last time but it just would never have been the same doing it in 2015
Now back in 1994 some people might say I wasn’t as grumpy as I am now ha ha and there would always be a wide smile on my face in the 051. This weekend in Liverpool has been dominated by the visit of Cunard’s three queens. Well done if you enjoyed it. A big boat, just like a big fucking puppet is exactly what it says on the tin. I have no interest in being with the masses to view these things and you can call me all the miserable things under the sun. Thanks to the wonders of social media I got to see the whole thing anyway and indeed my first thoughts were backed up. They are indeed just big fuck off boats. If a boat hasn’t got Sealink on the side and were loading up with cheap ale coming home from France then it’s not a proper boat. On Saturday we had our own boat as me and the in-laws went on a pleasant barge trip for three hours up by Maghull. Now that’s boating. Instead I headed down to Sefton Park and take in the culture that is “Artisans in The Palm House” once again a lovely event. Just sitting off on the grass of the Palm House with a beer, sadly I don’t think The Liverpool Gin stall was there this year and then finally getting to eat one of The Moon & Pea’s sausage roll which gets a 9/10 score. So thats a busy bank holiday weekend wrapped up. Time for a few beers and I might bang on a few 051 classic choons, put the shower on full top heat to create a steamy toilet and then use a spare conservative election flyer still about the house to wipe my arse on. Ahhhh back to the election again grrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Peace and an Istanbul memory below.
Fay x x x x x x