Saturday, 14 November 2009

Day 14

I didn't do as much walking about in stormy London as I thought I'd do today. Firstly, because it's stormy London, and there were several times when rain was running down the back of my neck as my umbrella, which had been beaten into submission, slunk closed and crying at my side. Secondly, because I realised I had to do some practical things that I wouldn't've have had to do if I hadn't cheekily paperclipped another week onto my Days, like laundry, or finding that famous p√Ętisserie. And thirdly, because this occurred -



- for hours and hours.

I was prepared to snort derisively at the Egyptian exhibitions (I've been there fo' real, bitch), but I didn't.

I stole bits of various group's museum guides from time to time, joining the silent agreement from the racially diverse crowd that Ancient Mesopotamia or any of these other cultures from millenia ago are, simply, superior to all of our 21st century societies put together, but mainly I was content wandering literally everywhere in my own time.

I was looking forward to seeing the famous Lindow Man, a body of a man from 20-90AD found in a peat bog. The most superficially telling remains of a prehistoric person to ever be found in Britain. When I got to his exhibition, there was a fella gushing to his wife about how significant it all was, and I butted in and asked, but where is he? The fella said that Lindow Man had been taken to Newcastle temporarily. The fella had travelled hundreds of miles just to see L Dude, and he wasn't even there.

Perhaps the most -- dare I say it -- "moving" piece I saw (and I think I saw everything -- that is, everything that was admission free) was the Easter Island moai, Hoa Hakananai'a. It's one of the most famous images in the world, but seeing one in books or in... Night at the Museum... or... or... Night at the Museum 2... is unaffecting compared to walking up to it (it's not colossal, but it's the most looming object) and circling it and then walking away and then turning around and walking back and then dodging round a mild-mannered Belgian man who'd dropped his camera, and so on. I went to visit Hoa Hakananai'a several times.

And don't eat in a museum, for God's sake. Go to McDonald's, you can stuff your face there.

Edit: during a conversation about phobias, someone just diagnosed me with trypophobia. A sort of odd revelation! And it's interesting to finally put a name to it. I remember years ago, I was watching an episode of Family Guy and there was a wall full of bullet holes -- loads and loads of them. I had to turn the TV off. Urgh. URGH.

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