In the time it takes to consume a somewhat unsatisfactory service station sandwich, you may go from a neon-lit metropolitan sprawl to a mist-shrouded mountain in the North West of England, a peculiar, rain-drenched portion of the earth. This is a place of stark contrasts where the industrial grime of the past has been transformed into something incredibly stylish and where the sheep outnumber the humans by a ratio that makes one feel somewhat judged during a stroll.
Starting your trip in Manchester means you are basically entering the North's engine room. It is a city glad to show off its past in red-brick architecture. The Northern Quarter, which is so trendy it makes my own clothing choices feel like a personal tragedy, had me recently meandering through it. From the record stores to the street art, it's difficult to top the real feeling of life. Naturally, the neighborhood hobby is debating over football, and whether you are a Red or a Blue, visiting Old Trafford or the Etihad is almost a pilgrimage. Personally, I would choose the museums as at least they offer a solid roof should the clouds ultimately choose to open up.
Liverpool is a short train ride away; it is a city that succeeds in being both very magnificent and delightfully down-to-earth. The waterfront is an example of Victorian ambition at its finest. You can almost hear the echoes of the magnificent liners as you stand before the Three Graces at the Pier Head. You clearly can't move for Beatles references. One afternoon I visited the Cavern Club and, despite my best attempts to stay a cynical contemporary tourist, I ended up singing along to "Hey Jude" with a bunch of Osaka strangers. There is a particular sort of Scouse magic that, after around twenty minutes, causes you to feel like an honorary native.
If the towns reflect the heartbeat of the North West, the Lake District is its soul. If you can see it through the rain, it's perhaps the most stunning part of England. Last year, I tried scaling Catbells during a weekend trip to Keswick. I say "tried" since a toddler and a Golden Retriever passed me, which made me think a lot about how fit I was. But the view from the summit, peering out over Derwentwater, is sufficient to get even the toughest city dweller to consider a peaceful existence of poetry and costly walking shoes.
You have to swing by Chester before you depart. This Roman walled city, which resembles a movie set, has the well-known "Rows," where you can buy things on two different levels. This is the only place I am aware of where you may buy a luxury handbag inside a structure dating from Henry VIII's first marriage.
The North West is more than simply a place; it is an experience of soggy socks, great music, and some of the friendliest people you will ever encounter. Just remember to bring an umbrella. Pack an extra one then too.
