Finally got out on the bike, it was frickin freezin and blowing a gale, so I went on an epic nose about of the decaying infrastructure of the docks from Seaforth to Otterspool.
Only scratched the surface really, but it was interesting to do it on the perfect tool for the job.
The beginnings of a complete rejuvination are everywhere, and yes it can be a bit modern corporate souless, but people probably said the same of the old stuff when it was built.
Basically there is shxxte everywhere.
But 'Where there's muck there's brass'.
I was out for hours and never got bored, remembering that the cameraman never dies, I nosed into everyones business
and what a joy that is.
I was like a child again, my favourite bit was cycling into the huge multistory carpark, past the barriers and turbo modeing it up the ramps for a view from the top.
This is everywhere
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Backstreets of docking, exporting rust it would seem
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The new Everton stadium, built with Russian stolen, given back, moved, laundered money
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Across the road renaming the decrepit pub, football fans dont want nuthin fancy.
In a world where slave trade links get you cancelled, I'm impressed that Bramley Moore got away with it,
money talks I guess,
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Titanic Hotel and tea warehouse apartments are going to be centre stage for the rebuild.
If you like post industrial chic,
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Dye the water blue and the babes will flock.
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A window salesman's dream.
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It certainly has a presence.
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You know all that cotton grown in the south, 90% of it came through these locks to the mills.
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The Tea warehouse condition is a reflection of our declining tea drinking.
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Nature never gives up/
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My ex girlfriend still lives in this warehouse, that girl needs to write a book.
From Perilli calendar to Beyonces friend, the tales she can tell.
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I don't understand why they don't paint it on the ferrys propeller.
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Dye the water blue and turn ip the sun and you've got Miami
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I cringe every time I see the Beatles after that certain incident with my dad.
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Notice the pillars continue, the end bit took a direct hit from a huge German bomb.
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The top of the car park, I was waiting for a jobsworth in a little council van to turn up and tell me fatbikes aren't insured.
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