Some places are so special they simply take your breath away. Liverpool Cathedral is one of those.
Liverpool's lucky enough to have two Cathedrals, the Catholic Metropolitan which holds nostalgic undertones for me because my parents met at the nearby Catholic Chaplaincy, but walk along Hope Street, Bold Street or anywhere around the outskirts of the dead centre and you're likely to see the tower in the distance and on Sundays hear the bells peal. Follow the noise, follow the view on the horizon. You will NOT be disappointed.
I've taken a ridiculous amount of photos and uploaded them to Yelp so you can see what it looks like inside, but it doesn't do it justice. There's so much to look at here. The cathedral is kind of like a living museum; you can take guided tours, there are exhibits showing exactly how it was built; you can even reach out and touch the instruments used to construct it. It has an unrivalled gift shop, full of not only the usual Liverpool guides and Beatles memorabilia but also important history books regarding the cathedral and the city itself.
It's vast, it's ornate and it's incredibly beautiful. For £5 you can take a trip up to the top of the tower to see the cityscape from great heights, and it's more than worth the money. As well as this, there are two places to eat in here, the refectory on the ground floor which I've reviewed separately as it's AMAZING, and the mezzanine above the gift shop. What better than a simple bite in the most staggeringly gorgeous surroundings, huh?
It's almost too hard to review, because it's so indescribably beautiful. What I will say is that it has an incredible effect on the soul. My father was raised as a Catholic when he was little. At around the age of nine he lapse, and the man went on to study zoology and become a teacher of the sciences. It's fair to say that he's a fundamental atheist. As a result I'm an agnostic; I've never been particularly religious, however I'm open-minded to the possibilities and I certainly think personal faith is one of the most wonderful things in the world if it helps people get by. While my mother and I were looking at the altar, a little old man, Scouse as they come, sauntered up to us and said, 'What most people don't know is that there's a disciple missing in that depiction of the last supper. I think they took Judas out for his treachery.' See if you spot it in the sculpture up there.
'I've been coming here every Sunday, and during the week too,' he told us. 'I've been a villain all me life. Never went to church. Never prayed. One night I had a dream that I was walking in the sand, and Jesus was walking beside me. I told the vicar about it. He pointed to his dog collar and said, "I've worked years for this and I've never had a dream like that. That dream's a blessing." Since then I've always felt better coming here.'
He was a lovely, no-nonsense, down to earth man. When we revisited the cathedral a few days later, he was there again. And there was even an artist sitting in one of the corridors, sketching his surroundings with such astonishing accuracy that my mother and I had to do a double take. I realised that even if I was in the worst mood, if I'd had the most dreadful news, I'd feel uplifted coming here. I don't know whether that's got anything to do with religion, but it seems to have the same effect on every visitor. I'm impressed, and this will always remain one of my favourite spots in Liverpool. read more