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I had originally decided not to spend the $20 admission fee to go to Liverpool’s most popular museum, The Beatles’ Story, but then I talked to my son who had seen it eighteen months ago. “Mom,” he said, “if I liked it as much as I did, you would love it. Their music was such a big part of your childhood.” That’s an understatement, and I had forgotten just how much their music meant to me until I entered the museum and heard the first tune.

I haven’t listened to the Beatles much in the past few decades. My husband is not a big fan, and I don’t want their music to become intolerable to him. I’m at risk for musically overdosing as well; I listened to their music so often when I was young. I remember watching them on the Ed Sullivan Show when I was only seven years old. A year later my dad bought me the Beatles fourth album while he was away on a business trip. I treasured it – my very first vinyl at eight years old.

Despite listening to the Beatles almost exclusively as I was growing up, I didn’t know much about them. For example, I didn’t realize that they were only together about eight years (the start- and end-dates are a little fuzzy). I’m sure it seemed longer because they generated so many mega-hits. They were amazing songwriters, not only the Lennon-McCartney duo but George Harrison as well. I didn’t know how they all met. I had heard something about a drummer before Ringo, but didn’t know the details. I didn’t know their long struggles to get their first recording contract, or what an impact Brian Epstein had on their lives. His death may have been the beginning of the end for their life together as a band. I never fully understood why they broke up… until I went to the museum.

I can’t look at the Abbey Road image without feeling achingly nostalgic, and I’m not the only one. A 20-something-year-old woman I used to work with used it as her screensaver. When I approached her desk one day and saw it, I exclaimed, “Oh, are you a Beatles fan?” She rolled her eyes and said, “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I don’t know their music. I just like the picture.”

The Beatles were the soundtrack to my childhood. I know most of the lyrics to most of the songs, and every song seems to be tied to some vivid memory. I left the museum close to tears, and I’m not sure why. Perhaps it was nostalgia and the knowledge that you can never return to such simple times when memorizing the lyrics to a favorite song was all that mattered. But mostly I was awed by their talent and feel so fortunate to have lived when they were creating some of the best music ever written.

By the way, happy birthday John Lennon. He would have been 73 today. Very weird to be in Liverpool this morning when they mentioned it on the radio.

We have been in the UK for six weeks now, and we still don’t understand why most British sinks have two separate taps: one for hot water and the other for cold. I can’t figure out how to wash my face in a sink with two taps. In no time at all the hot water is scalding, and it’s not possible to pass your hands under the tap even long enough to wash hands. To wash my face, I’ve tried cupping cold water in my hands (from the cold tap, which is just above freezing temperature) and then quickly passing my hands under the hot water just enough to heat up the cold water, but not burn my hands – all this with my eyes closed, mind you. Did you see how far apart the two taps are? I have not been overly successful.

My only guess is that one is meant to plug up the basin and fill it with a mix of hot and cold water to the desired temperature, and then scoop warm water from the basin and splash it on one’s face. Hmmm. I would only do this if I knew the sink were clean and someone had not, for example, just spit toothpaste in it. Is one expected to clean the sink before washing one’s face, or anything else for that matter?

And another thing, whilst I have your attention: Why are the taps so short? Often the water will exit the tap and run down the back wall of the sink, making it almost impossible to wet your hands without scrubbing the sink while you’re at it. Which kind of defeats the purpose of washing your hands, doesn’t it? Rinsing a toothbrush can be a real challenge.

Almost every bathroom in every B&B and flat we have rented has been remodeled in the last few years with very modern fixtures. Why then do they continue to install two taps in sinks? Why not one of those newfangled one-tap faucets that actually mixes the hot and cold for you? Sometimes I wonder if the Brits are afraid to spoil themselves.

Since I was a teenager, I have been reading about the moors in British literature. At 13, I had no idea what a moor was, but after reading many novels I was able to put together a rough image in my head. It turns out I wasn’t too far wrong. It was a misty, foggy day when we were on the North Yorkshire moors. The Brontë sisters were smiling, I’m sure.

Okay, I promised no more abbey ruins, but obviously I can’t do that. Here are ruins with a twist: What does an 18th-century earl do when looking for a way to impress his guests? He builds a grass terrace on a hillside flanked by two “temples” – one Roman and one Greek – in which to entertain them. And no fake medieval ruins in his garden like the neighbors might erect; this park has views of the real Rievaulx Abbey ruins.

York wins the prize for best historical city so far. What an amazing place! A political hot-spot in England for centuries since the Romans made it the capital of Britannia Inferior, a staging post for soldiers going off to defend Hadrian’s Wall. (See Hadrian’s Wall post)

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Later York became a center for the wool trade, the Church of England, the British railway, and chocolate. Note: I didn’t see a single York Peppermint Patty while we were there, but I did see a Nestlé factory.

I just can’t get enough of these hauntingly beautiful ruins. There are so many of them because of the Dissolution. When the Pope refused to grant Henry VIII a divorce from Catherine of Aragon, Henry established the Church of England and had himself declared head of the church in order to get his divorce. Then from 1536-1541 he had all the Catholic monasteries, abbeys, churches, and cathedrals destroyed, if they did not agree to change religions. Well, that’s one way to get things done.