8 August 2016 Lyons Farm, Melling, Kirkby, near Liverpool, Merseyside

The rain stayed away yesterday, it remained fairly warm and the wind blew and blew; none of these weather conditions an obstacle to further exploration of Greater Manchester. However Chris was still feeling under the weather and happy to spend the day stretched out on the comfortable caravan couch. We did venture out late in the morning to stock up on provisions yet again; it is amazing how often we wander up and down superstore aisles filling our trolley! 

I did another load of laundry, not sure when I would next have access to the appropriate facilities, planned our road route for the morrow but otherwise had a very sedentary day, fuelled by some lovely sweet pastries picked up in the local Lidl. And I also caught up with our younger son, albeit messaging on Skype as he was not set up for either audio or visual contact; this a real bonus to the day.

This morning we delayed our departure; the rain and wind suggested an unpleasant trip, and no one in their right mind will pack up camp in the rain if they can help it. But we were still out the gates by 11am, rattling across the cobbled Country Park road before joining the streams of traffic, back through Bury, south on the M66, then west on the M60 Manchester Outer Ring Road, before heading further westward on the A580 toward St Helens. There we turned north onto the A570 as far as the M58 whereupon we turned west again, soon arriving at our rural camp just a few hundred yards from the motorway. Fortunately the road noise is not as great as you might think; the hedges manage to absorb the worst of it.

On arrival, we found the gate locked and our hosts absent, but fortunately were given practical advice from the one other party already set up. Soon we were equally established, and sitting over a late lunch.

I was pleased when Chris consented to venture out again, because he was still suffering with his back, however the trip, a mere forty miles or so, had been uneventful and nerves were far more settled than they had been on our trip from Buxton to Bury.

Steel man marvelling at the wind turbines

And so we headed further west again, across to Crosby Beach; I was keen to see Antony Gormley’s installation, “Another Place”. We had heard of this when we were travelling in Australia, or more particularly when we drove up to Lake Ballard in Western Australia to see his 2003 work, “Inside Australia”.  This Antipodean installation is of fifty one steel human sculptures, of mixed sex and age, obvious despite their simplistic form. We had travelled hundreds of kilometres to see the work; today we travelled about eight miles.

Lake Ballard is a very remote spot, and surprisingly today Crosby Beach was uncrowded but for Gormley’s “Iron Men”. The wind was wild and the sand whipping around, but the hour was one you would have expected the normal English masses; not so.

Steel man have buried in the sand

“Another Place” features one hundred cast iron figures, pretty much identical (although in fairness we only got up close and personal with two of them) spread out along three kilometres of the foreshore and stretching almost one kilometre out to sea. Each one weighs 650 kilos, and is made from casts of the artist's own body, hence the uniformity, and are shown at different stages rising out of the sand, all of them looking out to sea, staring at the horizon “in silent expectation”.

Men: one flesh, the other steel

I was amazed to learn that this was not the first location they had been exhibited. They were previously displayed in Cruxhaven in Germany, Stavanger in Norway and de Panne in Belgium. In November 2006, the statues were expected to move to New York but it was later decided that they would remain on Crosby Beach on a permanent basis.

Contractors spent three weeks lifting the figures into place and driving then into the beach on metres-high foundation piles. They have proved to be an enormous draw card for voyeurs (otherwise known as tourists) and to the local council’s credit, there is free parking at the Crosby Leisure Centre close to beach access where they can be easily viewed. Both Chris and I did wonder however what would happen to them in a few more years when the iron starts to disintegrate; they will become a health and safety nightmare as they shed their bodies into the tide.

Retreating to the shelter of the car, we headed off back the way we had come, but detouring to the railway station at Maghull, attracted by the “Park & Ride” signs. There we learned we can buy all day off-peak rail passes for £3.70 and the parking is free.

I am in love with Liverpool already! Free parking here and there, and we have barely started our exploration!

Back at camp we sifted through our guide books planning the days ahead, and then in the middle of the washing up, spent half an hour or more chatting with our host who turned up to take our money. He and his wife, caught up with a little earlier, are just delightful, and like so many “farmers” where we stay, lease out their land to larger landowners who grow grain and vegetables on a large scale. We could have talked all evening, although the wind was still cold and the dish water was cooling.