London Transport Museum at Night

Checking out the 'Museums at Night' website,
we chose to go to the London Transport Museum.

It kind of fit, tunnel man and museumy woman's night out.

We've been before with our kids. Train spotting, bus spotting, collecting stamps as we went around, climbing on and off buses and trains, it's a kids dream and the museum is often very busy. It does cater brilliantly for kids.

We met in Covent Garden, the anorak was more train-spotting than London.
I couldn't help myself, I tweeted this photo.

And was a little over excited to see my tweet on their Tweetwall.

So what would a night at the London Transport Museum have in store for us grown ups?
It had a bar, it was an over 18 event. We had Pimms.

But more exciting than that, we got to play, be the kids, and notice things for ourselves. No earnest pointing things out to children.

We got to take #museumselfies (we're not very good at this yet),

...notice upholstery,

...and wooden floors. "Wood?"

"Actually look, the train is made of wood."

We noticed maps, the place where I grew up.

And got to chat to other people, who showed us their smart phones, 

"that's were the line used to run".

Spotting the difference between then and now.

We saw that wood, for so many health and safety reasons, was replaced by metal,

...and steam replaced by

...by electricity.

More upholstery. This time I remember it.

We climbed on and off buses. "I don't remember them being quite so high. Perhaps I'm getting old." More evidence of yet a safer transport system, Routemasters didn't have doors, 

...but they did have conductors and women in yellow trouser suits.

We saw an exhibition.

Then it was our turn for a bit of drawing. Inspired by the museum's amazing collection of transport posters, we got to make our own. Replacing the kids artwork, they're now on our fridge.

Building a tunnel. "Come on, you do this for a living."

Being a bus driver.

Just like every other family visiting a  museum

(it is acknowledged in the museum literature!),

we went to the loo. And when it's quiet(er) you get to check out each cubicle.

Look what I found.

It wasn't fabric.

Don't wait until the next 'Museums at Night' in October to visit the London Transport Museum.

It's open every day. Not just for museum types and civil engineers.

Details on the London Transport Museum website here.

More about Museums at Night website here.

Larrakitj at the British Museum

 I rarely go to museums alone. However yesterday I found myself at the British Museum with not only time to spare, but also alone. It felt like such a luxury. For a short time, about 45 minutes, I had no agenda, I could do and see what I liked. This is what happened.

Just through the entrance, to the right, I spotted these, Larrakitj.

An art installation by Wukun Wanambi from northern Australia.

Traditionally Larrakitj are Aboriginal hollow memorial poles, used as coffins by the Yolngu from Arnhem Land. Stringybark Eucalyptus trees are specially chosen and stripped, their surface prepared for painting. They are then painted with the design of a clan, filled with the bones of the deceased and put in the landscape for the wind and rain to gradually wear them away.

I found this really moving, yet felt slightly uncomfortable. Was this something I should be privy to? Is this not a private affair, laying your clan to rest. However these aren't coffins, they are art works which Wukun tells us he has made to "communicate Yolngu values and beliefs to outsiders". 

Wukun painted the surface of these Larrakitj with shoals of sea mullet, the design of his own clan.

I really liked being with these Larrakitj, I'm not quite sure why. I didn't feel like an "outsider". I loved the sense of movement in the sea mullet design. Loads of fish packed in, but not at all claustrophobic nor chaotic. They all seem to know where they are heading, moving in the same direction. It always amazes me how shoals of fish move seamlessly together without bumping into each other and making a right mess of things. I think Wukun has captured that so beautifully. It gives me a real sense of calm. I can imagine the therapeutic nature of painting these fish onto the prepared trunks. Doing what his ancestors had done, continuing a tradition.

He has also captured something of a very busy British Museum.

I won't tell him that I actually had this gallery all to myself for a very short while.

No shoals here, just me.

You have until 25th May to see Larrakitj: Aboriginal memorial poles buy Wukun Wanambi at the British Museum. Details on their website here.

Museum of the Order of Saint John

I met with a friend to visit the Museum of the Order of Saint John. It was her idea as the museum wasn't really on my radar. She writes for Chetham's Library blog which you can read here.

I didn't really know what to expect, I'm not good on medieval history. I expected knights, but whilst there it dawned on me, that, aside from knowing them as playmobil characters and as dressing up costumes, I didn't really know what a knight or an order was.  

There are clues, you can tell that there were men and they fought battles,

 protected by helmets, shields and chain mail armour.

Obviously not offering complete protection.

But their remit went beyond fighting and protecting, to serving the sick and the poor.

In the 11th century in Jerusalem, Hospitallers, "cared for anyone without distinction of race or faith". From this was born the Order of Saint John and their military arm became the Knights of the Order of Saint John.

Caring for the sick, they stored their medicine in pharmacy jars.

And this looks suspiciously like a bed pan, or perhaps bed warmer.
I forgot to check the label.

These silver platters give us a hint to the Order's rules and values, that the sick were to be, "regarded as if they were Christ, and deserved the utmost respect". Another reason may have been that silver was easy to keep clean and has natural antibacterial properties. 

In the 12th century the order left Jerusalem, sailing across the Mediterranean Sea to Rhodes and Malta to continue their quest to provide food, shelter and safety for travellers.

The badge that you probably recognise from the St John Ambulance, has been their badge for centuries. It has been imprinted onto bread,

and has decorated breastplates and habits.

It wasn't all men. This is Saint Ubaldesca from Pisa. 

I was gradually beginning to understand what this religious military order did, and their place in history. But it wasn't until eating breakfast the next day, perusing the gumpf I had picked up in reception, reading the St John's Trail written for kids, that I really got it. Well the version you've just read above.

I still may well be wrong and there is a lot more to this story, including peregrines, prayer books, canon balls, and door knockers. And their 12th century English headquarters, the Priory of Saint John in Clerkenwell, London, the site of this museum.

Visit the Museum of the Order of Saint John and see it all for yourself.

Still a bit confused? There's more to help kids (and adults) understand.

Like their 'Family Activity Chest'.

Unfortunately we didn't have any kids with us this time.

Check out the Museum of the Order of Saint John in Clerkenwell, London.

Open Monday -Saturday, details on their website here.

As you can probably guess, this story continues on until the 20th century with the St John Ambulance. More on that story in a later blog post.

Roman Bath?

Reading other people's blogs, I'm loving hearing about so many museums that I've never heard of before. Like the Flora Twort Gallery mentioned by Lisa in her post, 'Day Tripping' to Petersfield, read it here. That is now on my 'to visit' list.

Then there are the places you didn't even know existed until you stumbled upon them in a city you thought you knew quite well.

Like the National Trust Roman Bath just off the Strand, London.

I was heading to Two Temple Place with a friend, you can read about our visit here, when we spotted this small sign above an archway. 'ROMAN BATH, DOWN STEPS TURN RIGHT'.

So we did.

And found ourselves in Strand Lane, a tiny alleyway, at The National Trust Roman Baths.

Walking down these deserted alleyways, if it wasn't for the sign, it kind of felt like we were discovering this two thousand year old Roman relic ourselves. 

These baths are 'said' to be Roman.

But the bricks used to build them are more like Tudor bricks

and it lies four foot six below ground level, Roman remains would usually be deeper. 

The first written record of these Roman Baths dates back to 1784, a "fine antique bath" in the cellar of a house in Norfolk Street in The Strand. And "William Wedell, a collector, died from a sudden internal chill when bathing there in 1792".
Dickens mentioned them too, in 1850. David Copperfield took many cold plunges in the old Roman Baths, "at the bottom of one of the streets out of the Strand".

At the end of the 19th century, these cold plunging baths were recommended by the medical profession as "the most pure and healthy bath in London ensuring every comfort and convenience to those availing themselves of this luxury". 

Not so much luxury today, but still cold. They are fed by a stream, with the rate of flow being about two thousand gallons a day. I still think there's a risk of a 'sudden internal chill'.

And the windows could really do with a bit of a clean.

To see them you have to turn the lights on

and look through very misty, grubby windows.

They sit here silently, looking dormant, but there's a serious amount of water flowing through this pool.

Roman Baths?
Their origin is a mystery. I'll leave you with a challenge set by the National Trust,
"...meanwhile it is open to the visitor to believe that it is indeed a relic of Roman London or to accept some such theory as set out above".
If you're passing, check them out and make your own mind up.
And National Trust, if you're passing, please give those windows a clean.