Scouse encounter



Pointing my camera upward at the licence on the Lion Tavern a voice from behind says: “Sorry, can I ask ya wha’rre you taking pictures of tha’ pub for?”

It’s my first real introduction to the Scouse accent. It’s funny and I rewind his words in my head.

I should be getting used to the question. Poiting your lens at walls, zooming in on details has a lot of people confused. But I haven’t really got a standard answer yet.

“Uhm, I’m just taking pictures…”

He’s not really listening. He’s one of those high energy blokes, a little too old to be called a young man. Jeans a little too snug, always a little fidgety.

“… because it’s funny, look: they’ve stuck the new owner’s name over the previous one.”

He looks at me a little surprised.

“What is that accent? Where are you from?”

I laugh.

“I’m Dutch.”

He doesn’t believe me.

“You’re joking. Dutch? I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

I explain I’ve spent a lot of time in Ireland.

“Yeah! Yeah! That’s it. You’ve a really funny accent!”

And off he goes before I can say anything, but I can hear him mutter to himself:

“There are better pubs to be taking pictures of, luv.”

My uncle’s ‘book without a title’

Last year my uncle featured in a TV show about ‘miracles’. He told the story of how he found a photograph of himself in a book he picked up from an antique shop, while on holiday in England. It’s a true story. This month the show is letting viewers decide which stories should be repeated in a clip show to introduce the new series.

Do me and my kin a favour and vote for ‘De foto’ on the ‘Wonderen bestaan’ website. You’ll find the poll on the right hand side and ‘De foto’ is the last option in the poll (which doesn’t give it much of a chance of winning!).

It’s a great story and my uncle, who is an author and lyricist, does a great job of telling it (well, duh, he does readings and theater shows for a living). In short: About 20 years ago he was on holiday with his girlfriend L. and another couple. It was a miserable day and he hadn’t even wanted to go to England anyway. When they stopped for lunch, they came across an antique shop.

My uncle had a thing about ‘a book without a title’. He had been talking about this obsession during the trip, of wanting to find this ‘book without a title’. His friends had said books without titles didn’t exist.

Looking through the books on the shelves in the antique shop, he didn’t find anything he wanted. But there was one more book, sitting on a table. Picking it up he saw the book’s cover didn’t have any marking or lettering. It was a book without a title! And when he opened it, he found a picture of himself taken when he was a young man.

Cue theme of the Twilight Zone. Vote now. Vote often.