A love letter to Birkenshed

No, really.

As my Facebook friends will be fully aware, because I haven’t stopped going on about it since, as of February I started working on the dark side of the Mersey in Birkenhead, or Birkenshed as I prefer to call it. I wasn’t a fan at first. But now, believe it or not, the place seems to be growing on me. Here’s why.

The view of the Liverpool waterfront

Naturally. It’s glorious, and I can see it from my window in work. When it was foggy the other week and I couldn’t see the Liver Birds I was clammy with terror that I’d never get to see them ever again.

The ferry

On Tuesday I got the ferry home from work. The novelty of this was almost too much for me to cope with. I morphed into irritating tourist mode and made a show of everyone I was travelling with by taking loads of photos and singing along with Gerry Marsden to Ferry ‘Cross The Mersey. So much fun.

The view from the ferry

The view from the ferry

The chicken shop

“The chicken shop” is actually a butcher’s called Longton Hall Farm (apparently they also have a branch in Bootle?) and they do a hot deli counter at lunchtime of the most delicious chicken (other meats are available.) My particular favourite is the Chinese chicken – you get eight massive chunks for £2 and they are a taste sensation. Admittedly, this shop may be a contributing factor in my weight gain since the Birkenshed move, but it’s too tasty to resist. YOLO, and all that.

Shush

I posted a photo of this shop’s signage on Facebook the other day because it made me howl laughing.

shush

Do they really have outlets in London, Paris and New York? I think not. Plus, how do they expect their business to flourish if you can’t tell your friends about it? Have they never heard of word-of-mouth marketing? Despite this, I ventured in a couple of days ago and it is crammed full of trousers sporting crazy prints. THESE ARE MY VERY FAVOURITE KIND OF TROUSERS. So it gets the thumbs-up in my book.

Granted, Birkenshead is OBV full of wools, and the stench from the wastewater treatment plant nearby (which is a fancy way of saying “sewage”) made me gag as soon as I got off the train last week. But I’m definitely warming to the place.

Am I…am I turning into a wool?!