I at last managed to get to the Klimt exhibition at The Tate in Liverpool today. Just as well, it finishes this weekend.

Blimey, Liverpool is a busy city. There are people everywhere and God, they never shut up and they never stop laughing. Maybe it's to drown out the sound of the seagulls but if you see two scousers walking down the road one of them will be talking and the other one will be laughing his head off, I swear.

Anyway, once I'd ploughed my furrow down Hanover Street, which included virtually having to climb over three squealing teenage girls trying to flirt with a gaggle of builders, I eventually washed up at the Albert Dock.

It is a fine view: The Mersey, The Liver Building (it's clock faces are bigger than Big Ben's apparently) and the docks themselves. And rammed into the right hand corner is The Tate.

I had to wait a couple of hours to get in (you buy a ticket for a set time and I had to hang on till 2pm) so I set off for the Roscoe Head, a fine pub up from the bombed out church, on the way to the Philamonic, which serves one of the best pints of guinness I've ever had. There's no music and they have an assortment of CAMRA awards and cosy rooms. Can't recommend it enough.

So, back down the hill and for 2pm I am shuffling my way into the Klimt exhibition with the rest of the 2pmers.

God, it's busy in there. I am not good with crowds. Especially in enclosed spaces. The Trafford Centre completely freaks me out and I can't stand it at all in there when it's busy.

So my enjoyment of Klimt was marred by the hundreds of people I was surrounded by. No, the kissy one wasn't there but the selection of work on show was really interesting.

My favourite was the furniture he'd collaborated on with a bloke called Hoffmann. That was really interesting, though I'm interested in furniture design and a big fan of the Memphis movement and you could see refelctions of that in one chair, especially.

But there were some beautiful landscapes and pictures you would recognise, and some impressive friezes. Certainly enough of the art nouveau stuff to satisfy anyone's taste for the pretty side of Klimt.