I also had the chance to give my new digital camera a workout and some of the best pictures are reproduced below for your viewing pleasure.

I remember, years ago, being taken along to the parades by my Dad. 8-year-old Robert was fascinated by the costumes and music and enjoyed it. Then, as I got a bit older, I did a bit of research, realised what these parades were actually about and I didn’t like what I discovered one bit.

The whole event makes me decidedly uncomfortable. I’m not talking specifically about the drunken rabble, returning from Southport, that held up my train home at Moorfields this evening by starting a small riot on the platform — although they are, obviously, awful. But in a supposedly modern, forward-looking, 21st-century city, is this sort of sectarian throwback really something to be proud of?

It appears, ultimately, to boil down to: “MY regressive religious faith is slightly better than YOUR, slightly different but equally regressive religious faith.” And if people still feel the need to declare their perceived superiority over others, in this day and age, well… I’m just happier than ever to be an atheist.

Radio 4′s Sunday morning magazine Broadcasting House sent a reporter to Liverpool, accompanied by Jo Philips (author of Why Vote?), to try and find out why people here are so uninterested. You can listen on the iPlayer for the next 6 days (the relevant section begins at 0:17:42).

I acknowledge the problems in parts of the constituency, but it’s depressing that a city supposedly famous for its outspokenness and political campaigning is so apathetic when it comes to politics.

TWO women tried to smuggle a dead relative on to a plane at Liverpool John Lennon Airport.

The corpse was pushed in on a wheelchair – complete with sunglasses – to try to fool staff at the check in desk at JLA.

But as his two companions attempted to check him in for a flight to Berlin on Saturday, staff became suspicious and alerted the authorities.

The two women were arrested after their bizarre attempt was uncovered.

The ECHO understands the 91-year-old German national had died a day earlier, and an attempt was being made to smuggle his body back to his homeland.

How on earth did they think this was going to work? What happens when they go through security? What if some of the check-in staff wanted to talk to the old man? Would they have set up some sort of impromptu ventriloquist act?

It is, of course, fairly awful for the airport staff caught up in this mess, and for the unfortunate taxi driver who became an unwitting undertaker for the day. But none of that stopped the Liverpool Echo — and, to be fair, almost everyone else — from making comparisons to Weekend at Bernie’s.

The bemusement deepened following an odd interview given to the BBC by the two women — who have been charged with failing to report a death — with the winning quote, “My Willi is my god. I [have loved] my Willi for 22 years.”

The news has travelled round the world, with hundreds of reports on Google News, and thanks to doing this search, I now know that there is a procedure in place for deaths in flight. Reassuring.

The news, in case you missed it: two women tried to take a CORPSE onto a plane at Liverpool Airport.

Some people may struggle to understand the emotions here: on the face of it, it’s just a boat that took people from Liverpool to Wallasey. And let’s face facts, its design was never going to win a beauty contest. But for many Merseysiders, the Royal Iris is not just a ferry, it’s an icon of Scouse culture. This is mainly thanks to the regular cruises it operated during the Merseybeat era, where passengers would receive dinner and an afternoon’s entertainment from one of the leading Liverpool bands. Even the Beatles performed on board on a few occasions. It’s a very sad state of affairs to see it ending its days like this.

But look at the comments on the Liverpool Echo’s online report, most of which are a variation on the theme: “this is a DISGRACE! someone somewhere must do something”. Do a Google search for “Royal Iris” and you’ll find numerous internet forums on the subject, with people expressing similar sentiment.

I get immensely frustrated when I see these comments. I’m sure they are genuine and heartfelt, but I wish more people would get away from typing missives on web sites and channel their energy into something a bit more constructive and practical, like actually helping out.

This is a problem I experienced first hand with the Merseyrail class 502 unit. When pictures of it in a forlorn condition appeared online, people queued up to complain, criticise the train’s owners and generally mouth off, but when group to restore it was formed, how many people dug into their pockets or offered their time to help? Sadly, very few.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect people to drop everything, but even a small amount of time and money can make a difference, if enough people contribute. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned, from working with the 502 and now seeing the Royal Iris, it’s that you shouldn’t wait for other people to come to the rescue. Get involved and do something yourself!

PS: I should point out that although I am the treasurer of the Friends of the 502 Group, the above post is my opinion alone and does not reflect the group’s views.

Also, if anyone does want to rescue the Royal Iris, let me know where to send the cheque.

Everyone has their own story to tell about the cold weather the country has been experiencing recently, which saw parts of Scotland reach temperatures similar to those at the South Pole. People in work have been swapping stories about having to walk home on Tuesday afternoon after Liverpool’s bus companies withdrew services, allegedly due to the Council’s failure to grit the roads.

On a related topic, thanks to the amazing staff at Merseyrail, who pulled out all the stops to keep their trains running, even running empty trains through the night to keep the lines clear of ice. The end result was that, except for a few minor delays and cancellations, the trains have been running normally, even on Tuesday afternoon when there was a near-whiteout for a time. The Liverpool Echo, not known for its love of the railways, had to grudgingly recognise the achievement. Let me just add to the praise: you guys are AWESOME (Merseyrail, not the Liverpool Echo)!

As the trains were running I had no excuse not to be in work, but on Wednesday morning the pavements in the city centre were like glass. I was wearing the least practical shoes imaginable and had barely set foot outside Central station before I slipped and landed on my bum. It wasn’t even a dignified fall: there was much flailing of arms and feet before I eventually toppled over. Still, it seemed to amuse the man on the corner who was giving out Metros.

(satellite image taken on 7th January 2010, NASA/GSFC, MODIS Rapid Response)

In London, the Police proved once again what a wonderful organisation they are. In Rome, a swimmer suffered an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction.

Gents — ever wondered what it would be like to wake up with a vagina? YouTube was on hand to envisage that scenario.

My sister graduated from uni, proving that they’ll give degrees out to ANYONE these days (only kidding, sis!). I also wasted a whole day playing Atari 2600 games, and I still have the Pitfall II music stuck in my head.

August saw the first Adventures in Public Transport post for quite a while, as yours truly hunted for a lost Saveaway ticket in the rain. I had a much better transport experience a few days later, as I cruised to Salford on a Mersey Ferry. The peace was shattered – literally – on my evening commute when my train was bricked.

I celebrated the Internet’s ability to create new friendships as I met up with the Mersey Tart for the first time — a meeting surely up there with Livingstone and Stanley’s encounter on the shores of Lake Tanganyika.

The Echo cemented its local credentials by relocating scores of jobs to Oldham. PowerPoint celebrated 25 years of making already tedious office meetings absolutely unbearable. Channel 4 axed Big Brother, meaning I can now watch television during the summer without feeling the urge to kill.

September saw me considering Macs again. I still haven’t decided whether to switch to a Mac or not — never let it be said that I’m impulsive. Then I decided to go on strict diet, a process which went quite well over the following months, until Christmas intervened and ruined it. The London tube map was redrawn to remove the River Thames; I thought this was a huge improvement, but TfL did not consider my views during their consultation process and swiftly moved to put it back. I also bemoaned that society seems reluctant to pay for anything these days, although I felt some sympathy for that view as my Railcard expired and I resigned myself to paying full fare on the trains.

October saw the Tories proving they’re crazy. BBC4 dramatised the rise and fall of Sinclair and Acorn in Micro Men. A-Ha split up, shocking people who didn’t realise they were still together. Royal Mail workers went on strike, thankfully AFTER I got all my parcels. That woman wrote that article in that paper about that singer, and that man from that party went on that programme.

I finally joined the iPod owners club with a purchase of a new 5th gen Nano. Sun and Cloud made a welcome (it says here) reappearance.

In November there were fireworks-a-plenty when the Government sacked its drugs adviser for… advising on drugs. Morrissey walked off stage at the Echo Arena after being hit by a bottle, Rupert Murdoch launched all-out wars against Gordon Brown and Google.

National Rail launched Stations Made Easy, allowing people to explore the nation’s railway stations without leaving their comfy seat. Anyone using that site to look at Liverpool Central could understand why it is one of the top ten worst stations in the UK. One station that definitely wasn’t on the worst list was Workington North, a temporary halt which opened to serve the flood-hit town after less than a week of planning.

December contained the story of the year for me. Never mind Jacko dying or bombers with explosives in their underpants, the toy mouse that sings “paedophile”, as featured on the Today Programme(!), was a highlight.

Christmas came and went, and I explained why people complaining about “political correctness” are missing the point. The BBC proved its worth by having 9 out of the top 10 programmes on Christmas Day.

Otherwise it was a quiet month. I checked out the Take That musical, Never Forget, lamented the fact that The X Factor had a stranglehold on the Christmas number one spot (except when it didn’t) and mocked an LFC player’s sincerely held religious beliefs.

Thanks to my regular readers (all four of you!) and Happy New Year.

January started out with one of my favourite shows being revived. Despite being up against EastEnders and being hosted by Ben Shepherd, the Krypton Factor did well enough to be recommissioned for a second series. We found out Who would replace David Tennant, and a year later we still haven’t actually seen him in the role. ITV’s latest attempt to ape the success of Doctor Who was Demons which failed spectacularly; the only creative thing about it being the number of different excuses the writers found for Christian Cooke to remove clothing.

In the wider world, various eras were drawing to a close, as Woolworths closed its doors, Tony Hart kicked the bucket and Dubya left office. Meanwhile, yours truly had an enjoyable night in London Theatreland.

In February it snowed, proving that global warming is rubbish if you’re an idiot. Superlambanana was guaranteed a permanent home in Liverpool. BBC2 followed ITV’s lead in finding excuses to get people naked — although not Christian Cooke.

A right old slanging match developed in the Guardian between Hazel Blears and George Monbiot. The Government announced a new high-tech, high-speed train for the nation’s railways, leading me to complain (prophetically as it turned out) that money should be spent on electrifying the network. Milk won about 500 Oscars, but Dustin Lance Black’s heartfelt acceptance speech has now been blocked on YouTube by AMPAS. Boo.

Surely the most exciting moment though, was my public debut on Twitter!. 720 Tweets later, and I’m still going strong.

March saw me add another book to my Merseyrail-themed collection. I was depressed to read a study which concluded that brain function starts to decline at age 27 — on the bright side, I got an excellent pun out of it. Meanwhile, Merseytravel managed to tie the recent election of Barack Obama to their own integrated transport policy, and bravo to them for managing that. Useless Home Secretary Jacqui Smith was embarrassed by her husband’s viewing habits. He likes watching Second Homes Under The Hammer (SATIRE).

Also: Stewart Lee slagged off everything brilliantly and OK Magazine & Chris Moyles each did their bit to raise the standard of national discourse.

April started out with my irritation at the tendency for companies to say “search for us” instead of providing a proper web site address. The police proved themselves to be wholly unfit for purpose. Another Radio 4 stalwart was lost.

I visited Hall Road station and had an emotional and strangely cathartic appearance (plus I took a photo for the Friends of the 502 Group newsletter). I then linked to an amusing Daily Show clip, but I can’t tell you what it’s about because Comedy Central have blocked their videos in the UK, because they are WANKERS. It was something to do with mocking the elderly, which became something of a theme thanks to the residents of Frinton-on-Sea.

Oh, and that woman went on that show and sang that song. Trivia note: the girl in the audience who rolled her eyes when Susan Boyle first walked on stage is now world’s most hated person, just behind Osama Bin Laden, but ahead of Piers Morgan, oddly enough.

I linked to an excellent David Mitchell piece on the Sachsgate affair. Associated Newspapers attracted my scorn, not for the last time this year.

May brought the worst possible news, as FXUK dropped the Colbert Report from its schedules. Jacqui Smith proved what an asset to the nation she was on two separate occasions. The MP expenses scandal rumbled on, and I thought it would lead to disillusioned voters switching to fringe parties. Just as well THAT didn’t happen, eh?

Star Trek was rebooted and earned the coveted Hampo Seal of Approval. A man and a violin won the Eurovision Song Contest, while an even more interesting music contest was shaping up in the US. How come America gets Adam Lambert and Kris Allen, while we get Danyl Johnson and Joe McElderry?

I had a wander round the Wirral peninsula, taking photos of abandoned railway lines in Birkenhead. Surely I’m on a terror watch list by now. I also pondered why Merseyrail were stripping wall panels from Central station. The unexciting answer was: “to replace them with new wall panels”. Elsewhere on the railways, I had a good old-fashioned moan about pain-in-the-arse Advance fares.

June saw national joke Jacqui Smith resign at long last. The strictly London-only joke Boris Johnson continued to deliver what the public expected of him: amusing footage. Twitter proved an invaluable tool for anti-Government protesters in Iran, until they took the site down for maintenance.

Michael Jackson died, and my total commentary on this momentous event was two sentences. I was more concerned with the growing menace of dead animals getting inside food. I also asked if Australian TV viewers have no sense of humour. Network Rail closed my local railway line for three days, in what would prove to be the biggest flooding event of the year — right?

I was still not in possession of an iPod at this time, but the BBC thought it would be oh-so-amusing to give a teenager a cassette Walkman to try out — cue all sorts of isn’t-this-quaint style hilarity.

This sort of thing happens at concerts sometimes and I wouldn’t normally single out Liverpool for criticism, but ever since the Echo Arena opened there have been many complaints about drunken behaviour from certain sections of the audience and a lax attitude to security. I wonder if there will be a general tightening up now in response to this.

As I said when this news was announced last year, they are right to be worried. This is not an anti-Manchester thing, more a concern that the changes required to accommodate the move will destroy the paper completely. I’m particularly interested that an “evening” paper will now have a deadline of 7am! We had an example of the damage early deadlines can do only recently, when the Echo was unable to carry any news of Steven Gerrard’s acquittal until the day after the verdict was delivered, by which time it had been thoroughly gone over by TV, radio and the morning national papers and was generally old news. Yes, newspapers are being undermined by the internet, but it seems odd of Trinity Mirror to respond to that threat by making their publication appear even more irrelevant and out of date.

I haven’t been impressed with the Echo for years. Yes, they have run some important campaigns, but they are let down by sloppy reporting, sensationalism (count the number of times the words “CHAOS”, “TERROR” or “HORROR” are used in headlines) and an obsession with generally unimportant matters (car parking, Mersey Tunnel tolls, “Miseryrail”). Their good columnists (Will Batchelor, Laurence Westgaph) disappeared, while tedious rant-merchants like Joe Riley and Pete Price stay on. They’ve even dropped the Willie cartoon!

So I will probably be saving my 47p a day in future. My advice is to use the internet (I highly recommend Liverpool Confidential) or at a pinch, the BBC Radio Merseyside news bulletin at the top of each hour. But if you do this, for God’s sake, turn it off again as soon as the news finishes so you don’t have to listen to the rest of that station’s output.