The cooler weather pushed us indoors today, so we flocked to the famous British museums with hundreds of other tourists, tour groups and children on school outings. We woke early, packed lunch and set off to South Kensington for our history lesson.
I’m trying to wrap my mind around the underground etiquette. Our big South African personalities seem to get skeefed at on the tube. The conventional manner in which to conduct yourself appears to be:
All in all, it seems to be a rather unsociable experience, to our disappointment.
Armed with an old A-Z London street guide, a tube map and a backpack with snacks – we ventured into the unknown. My cousin had told us about an excellent little bakery just outside the underground exit in Kensington called Gail’s Bakery which serves marvellous coffees and baked goods. My brother grabbed his spinach and feta quiche and a flat white, while I got the cinnamon bun and cappuccino. The plan was to share “half and half” as my Ruan would say in a funny American accent.
Keen to get our history – and herstory– on, we strolled towards the Natural History Museum on the corner of Cromwell and Exhibition Road. The building was a glorious Gothic celebration mountain with rather docile gargoyles in the form of deer, dogs and lions.
This Natural History Museum is home to over 70 million specimens.
The line was long at 10 am on a Monday morning. Troupes of tourists and school children gathered at the grand entrance, but we got in soon enough. Once through the gateway, we were greeted by Dippy, the friendly Diplodocus dinosaur (Long Neck), who hung in the entrance.
There was no way we could work our way through even one museum in a day!
The interior was spectacular! I cursed myself quietly for not remembering the architectural terms I learnt at school like ‘flying buttresses’ so my descriptions will fall short.
My cousin had tasked us with finding the Massonpondalys, a dinosaur whose remains were found in South Africa. His dad had actually found a piece of its skeleton!
We found Dippy the Dinosaur. And check out the arching interiors of the Natural History Museum!
If this museum were to spring to life at night like the Ben Stiller movie – I would be terrified of what comes out the Blue Zone. Lions and tigers and bears (Oh my!), dinosaurs, moose, rhino, giraffe, foxes, bears, butterflies. Each exposition was glorious and intriguing in its own right. Some were familiar, others were strange. But the dinosaur section was by far our favourite.
We went further to explore Mammal World in the Blue Zone and the geology of the earth in the Red Zone. Both sections were brimming with information and expositions it left our heads spinning!
The sun dared to show its shy face before we headed to the Natural Science Museum just further up the way along Exhibition Road. By this time we were drained, sore and tired of hearing babies screaming. Children below the age of three should not be allowed in museums (my opinion).
We limited our visit to two sections: the ground floor and the area depicting the history of time.
We got to marvel at the passage of time in the clock industry.
The first was an overview of all inventions that have taken place since the Industrial Revolution, including production lines, mass printing presses, cars, light bulbs, crafted guitars, mechanised weavers and aeroplanes.
The second section displayed beautifully crafted clocks and watches from all era’s. Dating back to the earliest sundials and including grandfather clocks, as well as recent flashy wristwatches. We watched cogs turn and witnessed the mechanics behind time – such a strange human construct. We even saw the apparatus responsible for the clanging of church bells.
A little bit of pixie dust:
Found this fella blowing large bubbles near the museum.
Because who doesn’t love a man in a tailcoat and a steampunk waistcoat blowing giant bubbles?
The plan for the rest of the household is to watch the final episode of Game of Thrones tonight. Which meant that dinner was something to be celebrated before viewers gouged their eyes out in agony at the death of a favourite character.
We went to a little Italian restaurant called Franco Manca in Balham. An Italian joined us for dinner and enthusiastically advised us on our dishes.
“You are getting a Number 4,” Sam told me.
Even I could not argue to ham and mushroom.
Apparently, there is a whole pizza etiquette I was unaware of; a list of do’s and don’t, what mixes and what is prohibidado. Feel free to see if you are doing pizza the right way by checking out Sam’s blog Mangiare Italiano (FYI: Chicken and pineapple is a NO on pizza).
I had recently read “Eat. Pray. Love” and the authors’ descriptions of pizza and the Italians love for food was spot on. I found myself transported to another world while in that pizzeria. The atmosphere was surprisingly light and chirpy, a welcome change to the quiet train rides. The staff were singing and swinging in Italian.
The evening ends on a nice sweet note with Ben&Jerry’s decadent ice cream, curled up on the couch in anticipation of the final Game of Thrones episode.
