Bank Holiday Monday.
London.
Waterloo.
Welcome to London, the rain from last night has passed and instead when we looked out the air conditioning units and other such lovely things were bathed in a warm morning light. We would have stayed the night anyway, but I thought we might like to go to the Viking Exhibition at the British Museum before heading back, and so managed to get tickets for a session just before lunchtime. What could go wrong?
In a word, nothing. But for now, we showered and got dressed before heading down for breakfast. Its always better do things in that order. So, for a seven quid we get the choice of cereal, fruit, a full English, kippers, toast, cakes, coffee, tea, fruit juice. I mean you could fill up for the day, although you wouldn’t be able to move! Anyway, we eat our fill as the serving and retired officer types come down with their wives to complain about the tea/coffee/food in very loud officer issue voices. Its what they do…..
We pack and then head out, and decide to head straight to the museum and have a wander. So, after checking the route we set off and ride on mostly empty trains, which was a surprise for a Bank Holiday. Anyway, we arrive at Russell Square, ride up in a lift and are soon out walking in the sunshine. Instead of wandering about, we sit on a park bench and watch the world go by. In this case was a large group of French students milling around acting French (which they did well) and various dog walkers. All the while sitting on the bench in warm sunshine. Not a bad way to spend the morning.
At ten we walk round the corner to the museum, and find that most tourists had also thought about coming here too. What is amazing was that very few English voices were heard, or even English spoken. With so much to see in London, it seems odd to come to a museum, but then I suppose as we stole so much history from other countries, it’s the only why they can see their own history at times. Although most of what is on display is fantastic, taken out of their context, it is a little meaningless, especially the large statues, and I thought when looking at one of the Moai from Easter Island. Wonderful as it is, but it really should be taken back to whence it was taken. It would not matter if it was a copy.
Anyway, we head up to the Saxon rooms, so I could look at the Sutton Hoo artefacts, which still thrill me hugely. At half eleven, we head down to the exhibition. And it was then the crowds got really bad.
Once would have thought that having a ticket, and having to pay £16.50 each for the tickets, there would be limited numbers inside, but as the doors swung open we were confronted with a sea of people, and every single exhibit so surrounded by people, it impossible to see how we would see anything. There was little order, so people began at a random point and just stayed. We moved off, and as the exhibition progressed, a corridor twisted one way and another than the crowds thinned some. However, in the main room where the remains of the Roskilde #6 boat dominated, more and more people were milling around. We did get to see something over half of the exhibits, but it did feel a rip off to be honest, and any thought of paying £80 for membership soon evaporated.
We headed back to the tube and the one stop to St Pancras. We had enough time to head to M&S to get some lunch, before boarding the train and heading south to Kent and home. The train glided out of the station bang on time, and we whizzed under east London to the Essex marshes, we emerged into more bright sunshine at Dagenham, and sped towards Thurrock, under the Thames into Kent.
Thankfully our car still had all its wheels, and so we were home soon enough, putting the kettle on and wondering where on earth the cats were. Seems like they took exception to not being fed by us and had been out sulking, or something. But by five, they were all back refusing the food from early in the day and demanding something fresh.
Even if you are away for just a day, it is always nice to come home, put your feet up and sip a large cuppa.
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