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HOLY, HOLY RIVER

An old hippy friend of mine told me years ago that his tribe refer to the Mersey as the ‘Ganges of the West’, a Holy River. 

Many people throw their loved ONES’ earthly remains into the river, kindly assisted by the public ferry stopping in the middle of the mighty  river, shutting off the engines so a short service can take place. 

The tides of the river are so powerful that wherever that PERSON’S remains go and visit around the globe, they are always drawn back into the Mersey estuary. 

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