1: Natural History Museum

Cromwell Road, London, SW7 5BD

www.nhm.ac.uk

Visited on Monday 26 November 2012

Citymapper app route plan

Today’s route was meant to have included a new bus - the no. 9, which runs between Aldwych and Hammersmith, and would for this journey have taken me from Green Park tube to Kensington High Street. However, most uncharacteristically, I found myself arriving in town half an hour early for the pre-culture meeting (1pm at High St Ken Wagamama with Charlie and Brother Neil) and so I decided to take a walk through Green Park itself and along the road where the 9 would go. This was in some ways a mistake – it took me aaaaaages and it was bloody freezing and raining, however I did get to have a proper look at some of the residences in the area (posh mansion blocks mainly) and noted the number of very large cars. These vehicular equivalents of gigantic tea cakes might protect the quaintly uniformed little darlings as you take them on the school run, but woe betide any unsteady old lady stepping off a pavement at the wrong moment.

So, ten minutes later than the arranged time, I arrived at Wagas feeling like I’d had a few lucky escapes while crossing roads. After a swift nose around Zara with Charlie, who had some choice tops to recommend for the new job wardrobe, we sat down with Brother Neil to enjoy our armadillos of rice, curry sauce and fried chicken (the classic Katsu – number 71 – of course). 

Sure gets stuck in

Over lunch we agreed on the strategy of dinosoars, the whale and taxidermied birds for our route around the Natural History Museum. Our walk there took us past the Gore Hotel, the scene of much revelry following the National Youth Orchestra’s BBC Prom in the summer (the most expensive sambuccas in the universe can be purchased there); and after negotiating yet more Chelsea Tractors and passing people on the street dressed for a splendid afternoon’s grouse shooting, we arrived at our cultural destination.

Companions in the foreground, diplodocus in the background

The Natural History Museum is perhaps most famous for its distinctive Romanesque architecture and the imposing diplodocus skeleton in its grand entrance hall. The dinosaurs exhibition contains many other skeletons (Brother Neil’s favourite was the Triceratops) (here’s a very nice song that makes use of that word in the opening lyrics), as well as several interactive pieces and stuff aimed at engaging young people. There is a metal walkway suspended from the ceiling that takes you through the middle of the room and affords a great view of some of the bigger pieces. It leads eventually to a rather cool robotic Tyrannosaurus Rex, though this is slightly spoiled by the same automated woman who announces the stops on buses telling you every 30 seconds to ‘keep moving down the ramp’. Following the exhibition round back to the main hall we learned a number of good facts:

·      A Pterodactyl is not a dinosaur, it’s a flying lizard

·      The Tyrannosaurus Rex was so heavy that if it had fallen over by accident while running at full pelt it probably would have died

·      Meat-eating dinosaurs grew teeth throughout their life to replace worn out ones

Proceeding to the awesome life-sized model of the blue whale, we also went past many stuffed mammals, including a grizzly bear and a real armadillo (not the katsu kind) that has the brilliant special move of being able to curl up into an almost impenetrable ball when threatened.  We learned a good fact about female deer (they do not have antlers, with the exception of the reindeer) and we also met a relative of Sure’s, which pleased his little brass face no end.

Give's a hug

Real folding armadillo

Boar and Sure

Moving on to the birds section, we enjoyed some models of different dodos (dodi? hm) as well as a pretty majestic-looking vulture, posed as if in full flight, and an excellent display of eggs, which was obviously quite thrilling for me (eggs are one of my favourite things).

Number 6 is a regular hen's egg

There’s a lot to see in this museum, and it’s all laid out very logically, as we noted from the particularly clear and well-designed map. (£1 donation to own). However, owing to that walking-pace one always adopts in a museum (very slow), we were by this point quite tired and decided to leave the rest for another time and move on to the café. This is situated just off the main entrance hall, and is in itself rather grand. 

Brother Neil enjoys a good hall

Lovely cafe ceiling

Good selection of cakes

The array of cakes was impressive and, as Brother Neil pointed out, there was ‘ample and comfortable seating’. Service was perfunctory but not actually rude, and three cakes plus two pots of tea came to £14.85, so it’s not cheap. We did feel that given this, the bendy plastic cutlery on offer was not really acceptable (though it did give rise to Brother Neil’s sagacious observation that ‘the pen is mightier than the plastic fork’). 

Unacceptable plasticware

Anyway, the teapots were a nice shape so we weren’t too miffed, and the surroundings were very pleasant indeed. Regarding the cake and tea:

1) Millionaire’s Shortcake with marbled chocolate top (Charlie)

“I’m really pleased with it. We have well-proportioned elements (biscuit, caramel and chocolate topping), the slice is a manageable size, it’s very aesthetically pleasing, and the caramel is chewy but not too gloopy. 8.5 out of 10.”

2) Chocolate fudge cake (Brother Neil)

“Mmmm, it’s dense. Good sponge-to-filling ratio. Generally speaking it’s a good bake with consistent edges. I’d give it 8 out of 10.” This was updated about 15 minutes later however: “I have detected unexpected dryness towards the end. I’d like to downgrade it to a 7.”

3) Traditional Bakewell tart (thepateface)

Disappointingly dry, but good flavours, and again well-proportioned elements. The texture does let it down though. 5.5 out of 10.

4) The tea (all of us, two pots being enough to go between three)

Brother Neil poured first and there was some minor drippage, though this was not the case when Charlie poured from the other pot. It was duly noted that Brother Neil’s technique might have been the cause of the issue. The tea itself was delicious and we were pleased with the ponciness of the teabags – they are the sort that you can use to put loose tealeaves into, thusly permitting their appropriate movement within, but not their invasion of, the water and leading to a nigh-on perfect brew. Very refreshing!

Poncey but very pleasing teabag device

The SHOP was the final part of the visit, and we were impressed by its size. It contains the usual items – stuffed toy dinosaurs, jigsaws, branded stationery, little polished rocks and lots of books. The postcard selection wasn't huge, but we all bought some very nice ones, and I also bought a lovely little book about pigs. By chance I flipped it open at page 72, on which there was a photo of a tin of Spam. Sure was not so pleased about that.

Following this very nice diversion and a general agreement that the Natural History Museum is a really good place to visit, we decided to conclude our excursion with a glass of wine at a pub near the tube station. By this time it was dark and we were delighted with the fairy lights in the trees outside the museum, and a pleasantly lit-up carousel. All very nice.

Outside the museum

Owing to the tiredness, I decided just to sit on the Piccadilly line all the way from South Kensington to Finsbury Park, even though this wasn’t the quickest route home. It was a strange journey. Firstly there were three 6- or 7-year-old girls dancing around the pole in the middle of the carriage and making a right old racket. Two of them were slight and very active, and the other was quite a bit larger. It was a rather sad moment when the two skinny ones pointed out that the other was ‘too fat to climb up the pole, cos you’re too heavy’ and her Dad had to step in and say ‘No, no, she’s just tall’… the poor girl stood back and let the other two get on with it, wearing a really quite heart-breaking, crushed half-smile on her face. Then a gigantic woman got on and sat beside me, muttering aggressively to herself and digging me repeatedly in the ribs. I tried to ignore it, but it all got very awkward when we pulled in to Covent Garden station – she ended up missing her stop because she couldn’t un-wedge herself from the seat in time and, worst of all, the little girls started pointing and laughing at her. Kids can be pretty cruel I suppose.

After a short wait at Finsbury Park, the good old 106 brought me home. This is a bus route operated by especially advanced drivers, the ones who have the special skill of judging that exact moment when you’re halfway down the stairs and you’ve lifted your hand off the upper rail to grab the lower one – at which point they slam on the brakes. It’s so annoying that it’s impressive. So I ended the day with what is likely to become a small bruise on my forehead, but very happy nonetheless. Thanks to my companions for a wonderful start to the culturecake project – Brother Neil, Charlie and Sure the pig.