Low-Spoon Liverpool: A Day of Cake, Calm, and Capitalism (With No Decent Coffee in Sight)

 

Today I arrived in Liverpool for a short solo stay, and I’m staying at the Radisson RED, which I’d hoped would bring five-star vibes to match its iconic location opposite St George’s Hall. The view from my room? Genuinely beautiful, grand, historic, and full of cinematic potential. But the room itself? Let’s say the energy is more “urban minimalism” than “luxury escape.” It’s not terrible. It’s just not quite as impressive as it thinks it is.

Add in a poor night’s sleep, a migraine, and the general chaos of travel, and I decided quite quickly that today would be a low-spoon day. No pressure. No full itinerary. Just soft wandering, sensory-friendly spaces, and hopefully something sweet by mid-afternoon.

---

First stop: the Liverpool Central Library rooftop

If you’ve never been, it’s stunning. This place is like a secret slice of serenity right in the middle of the city. I headed straight to the rooftop terrace, which has panoramic views over the city, including a perfect vantage point of St George’s Hall and the surrounding skyline. I brought my camera and had a quiet little main-character moment while the city carried on below.

Inside, I took a slow wander through the Picton Reading Room, which feels like stepping into a Victorian novel. High dome, spiral staircases, big desks, the kind of place where you feel instantly clever just by existing in it. I didn’t stay long, but just being there felt nourishing in that “this counts as doing something” way that’s very necessary on days like today.

---

Then came the shops: low-effort retail therapy

After a brief recharge, I headed over to Liverpool ONE, which is just a short walk from the hotel. I wandered around Kenji and Miniso, two of my favourite places to browse when I want comforting, affordable chaos. I was surprisingly restrained (for me). Just a couple of bits, mostly sensory-friendly, probably pink.

---

Lunch at Yo sushi + a surprisingly good cheesecake

When the hanger kicked in, I ended up at Yo sushi, which turned out to be a great little stop. The sushi was fresh, the setting was calm, and the cheesecake was a solid 8/10, soft, creamy, and a much-needed comfort boost after a tiring morning. Not the best cheesecake of my life, but definitely good enough to make me pause mid-bite and feel glad I left the hotel.

---

And then… the great Nespresso heartbreak

Back at the hotel, I was very much looking forward to a real coffee, you know, the “luxury room with a Nespresso Vertuo” kind of situation. But sadly, the machine in my room wasn’t working. So I made myself a kettle-brewed decaf, sat in the armchair with a cardigan round my shoulders, and tried not to spiral about the state of midlife hotel coffee. Not quite the recharge I imagined, but in fairness I still had that view. And sometimes, that’s enough.

---

Final thoughts

Today wasn’t flashy or full-on. It was soft, slow, and mostly improvised,

a very neurodivergent-friendly travel day. A bit of beauty, a bit of shopping, a moment of peace in a library, and a reminder that not every trip has to be packed with productivity.

Would I recommend Radisson RED for a luxury stay? Jury’s still out.

But as a base for a quiet day of gentle exploration? It worked.

And honestly, in this season of my life, that feels like more than enough.

From City Buzz to Cotswold Calm: My Soft Life Reset Across Liverpool and Cheltenham Spa

📸 Liverpool, captured by me in 2014 during my “hyper real” photography era—back when everything had to look like it was about to be featured on the cover of a dystopian graphic novel. Still stunning, though.

There comes a point when you’ve stared at the algorithm for too long, cried into your coffee one too many times, and realised the only thing left to do is pack a suitcase and romanticise your life like you’re in a British Netflix original.

So that’s what I’m doing.

Liverpool First: A City With Edge (and Hopefully Less Rain Than Last Time)

The adventure begins in Liverpool a city that’s all music, magic, and unapologetic character. I’ll be there from Wednesday through Saturday, soaking up the atmosphere, the architecture, and possibly trying (again) to ride the infamous duck boat that sank the last time I tried. It’s me vs. mildly cursed tourism, round two.

I’m going First Class on the way there, because if I’m going to spiral about the algorithm, I might as well do it with complimentary snacks and extra legroom. Main character priorities.

Then: Off to Cheltenham Spa (Where I Will Become Cottagecore)

On Saturday, I trade Scouse chaos for Cotswold calm and head to Cheltenham Spa. This is where the linen trousers come out. The gentle walks. The overpriced jam I absolutely don’t need but will definitely buy.

I’ve always imagined the Cotswolds as the kind of place where you write your memoir, fall in love with a goat farmer, or rediscover your inner peace next to a 400-year-old tree. So obviously, I had to go.

The only problem? Saturday’s travel involves two standard class train journeys. I know. I’m already emotionally preparing myself. Unless, of course, the Seatfrog fairies come through and I’m whisked into First Class like the exhausted icon I am.

Why I’m Doing This Now

This isn’t just a holiday. It’s a reset. A deliberate step away from TikTok turmoil and into something that feels more like me. I’ve been running on fumes lately, constantly creating, chasing numbers, and trying to survive another algorithm shift.

So I’m choosing joy. Slow mornings. Soft trousers. Train snacks. Towns that look like postcards. And a little bit of unbothered peace, wherever I can find it.

What’s Coming Up

I’ll be documenting it all, probably in a very “here’s me, blurry, holding a pastry in front of a historic building” kind of way. Expect TikToks, Instagram reels, the odd storytime, and definitely an update on whether I finally got on that duck boat, spoiler alert, it doesn't exist anymore but there's a replacement submersible that doesn't actually sink.

Because sometimes, the only way to fix your for-you-page existential crisis is to leave your house and go be someone else for a while.

And I choose to be someone who gets First Class on the way there and back—and just pretends Saturday isn’t happening.