Show Me the Mummies!

Whenever I'm in a new city, I usually look for a museum with Egyptian things. While I find it disrespectful, in a way, to move the bodies of mummies out of their burial grounds, I also find it simply amazing how carefully certain cultures prepared the dead for the afterlife. If we think of the way we treat the dead in the US today, it's slightly similar to the Egyptians' methods (in terms of organ removal and preservation), but there's nothing natural about what we do. We preserve our dead for a few extra days so that we can get one last look at the faces we loved, and in so many cases, those faces have been so changed by death and preservation that this seems like a waste. The Egyptians preserved bodies to make sure they lasted through the centuries. They were careful and brilliant, and they didn't do it to make the dead look pretty in a box. I find something comforting about the way they cared for dead bodies, and something plastic and horrifying about the way we do it now.

Thank you for attending my TEDTalk, back to our travel stories.

I set out today for the British Museum, but I needed to find a post office first. For about as long as he's been a human person on Earth, I've been sending my nephew postcards from the places I visit. It's an easy way to let my family know where I am, to show this kid in rural Virginia a little bit of the world, and live out my dream of being a muppet. Remember Uncle Traveling Matt, the Fraggle who explored the world above ground, and was, apparently, left-handed (like me!)? I sign all my postcards Aunt Traveling Karlie. The kid has a stack of these cards now. It's nice.

In looking for a post office, I stumbled upon a major shopping area: Oxford Street. So I had lunch (biryani and 90s rap: I love it when you call me "big papa," too, Biggie.).

Then I looked in a few stores, including one of my favorites, UniQLO. I didn't appreciate what I had in Korea, but gods I love this place. (Spoiler: I'll be back twice in the next 2 weeks to spend ridiculous sums on clothes that I will probably wear to tatters).

Post-shopping, I headed to the British Museum. It's free to the public, and the building is huge and labyrinthine. I went slowly through the Egyptian and other early civilizations' displays on the ground floor, wowed by the sculptures and the hieroglyphics. I found a collection of clocks and watches that was all shiny and coggy and clever. Then I had to pee, and I found the toilet, spent 30 minutes in line, and left for fresher air. I didn't find any mummies, but (another spoiler), I'll discover them later.

I did see Hamm:

And there was this amazing display of artwork that I wish I'd written down a name for. See how each line is words?

I felt I hadn't walked enough, so I spent the next few hours winding home for one last night in my horrible AirBnB. All told, I walked 45 miles this week. Here's a view of the Thames on my walk towards Battersea Park.

Mmmm, chana masala called from the kitchens along the road home. I got a take-away curry, ate in the cluttered back garden, gleefully packed my bags, and read till I passed out. Off to the dorms tomorrow! My own bathroom! Joy!

Kew the Kew and a Kewt Title

I'm sorry for the puns. Kind of.

Today I headed to Kew Gardens, and even the walk from the tube stop to the gate was beautiful.

I happily stood in line for Kew gardens, playing with the word "Kew" for the 45 minutes I kewed...sorry. Queued. The gardens themselves are amazing, and I visited a palace that made me cry, thinking of the real lives of the people who lived in the deceptively large house, right in the middle of these beautiful lands; they never returned when their mother, the queen, died in the house. Outlines of their beds are imprinted on the walls.

This summer, the garden is also home to a dozen glass sculptures by the eye-patched American artist, Dale Chihuly. The gardens were packed, and getting shots of these sculptures seemed to be the main goal of most visitors.

Note: this is a permanent structure, not a sculpture, but it has some inside!

Some real flowers from inside one of the greenhouses. It's called TINA! Love.

Fake sloth sighting!

Those are real roots, of a real tree. Beautiful.

Look at this guy! And, he's a fountain!

Badgers also make their home in the gardens. A woman was chastised for taking her daughter into the bushes to pee right on top of a badger den, and a garden attendant told her that badgers will fight. I was really hoping to see them capture the pair and take them to their world underground.

Second badger sign!

I spent a solid four hours wandering around, eating brick oven pizza, reading in the sunlight, and wondering how to spend the rest of my day. Sitting on the grass outside the abandoned palace, I booked a ticket to Matilda: The Musical. YES!

Ok, in part, yes, I want to see the musical. Another part of me is desperately trying to find ways to stay out of the abysmal AirBnB. Around 9:30 tonight, my host tells me she would be happy to sleep in my room tonight and I could sleep in hers. Which is just weird. I will say no and suffer through a little more time here.

ANYWAY.

Matilda was fantastic. I sat in the top gallery and was sure I would tip over and do cartwheels down to the stage on top of everyone's head, but I survived. The child actors were incredible—I remember my school plays in shame. The girl who played Matilda was perfect, and a man played Miss Trunchbull. He was hilarious, but I questioned the choice of a male to take the role. They played up her Olympic past in a wonderful way that I think Dahl would have approved. I left the theater feeling that my muse had given me a little nod for the trip.

Dollhouses and Bookhouses

Today I put a SIM card in my phone, used it for a minute, and left for the V&A Museum of Childhood in Bethnal Green. 

I had not added any data to the card, so it didn't work until later in the day, when I endured the worst breath I've ever encountered to get more data and get my phone working. But anyway, back to the real journey (away from the breath...)!

I love this museum. It's very simple, and it's been designed for kids and adults, but mostly for kids. The displays are close to the ground, there are hobby horses to ride, and some items have moving, touchable, turnable parts. It's neat, but because it serves children for the most part, you get a sort of film on you being there.

But that's ok. TOYS! The toys and games and dolls and cards and books and magic lanterns and everything else you can think of makes it all worth it to an adult who is not visiting the museum with a child in tow. Last time I came here, there was an incredibly moving display on the top floor about children who were displaced during the world wars and sent to live with farmers in America and Australia, and how many of those children were terribly mistreated. I encourage you to research this somewhat forgotten side effect of war.

This time, there wasn't a display like that, but there was an enormous display of doll houses. Seeing so many different kinds built up like a city on the side of a hill was beautiful; the video doesn't do it justice.

What I found even more compelling were the singular doll houses that had been owned, for the most part, by single families, and sometimes by adult women. I'm intrigued by the idea of adult women, with, most likely, their own houses to take care of, playing house with dolls. Theories on the gigantic and the miniature tell us that the miniature gives us a sense of control: something that is tiny in comparison to ourselves not only holds an entire universe within it (think of a tiny book), but is completely within our control because it is so tiny. I imagine these women finding comfort and inspiration in the tiny houses they furnished and decorated, posing the tiny people the way they liked, stuffing the tiny people who had pissed them off that day into a drawer.

Feel free to give me a dollhouse any time, dear reader.

There's me in the mirror!

One dollhouse even had a little solarium:

After the museum and some harried navigation (I'd left with no plan, thinking I had data!), I wound up at the British Library, a building that I love not so much for its books (you can't see most of them), but for the promise it makes. There are books here, and if you want, you can see them. It takes a little effort on your part, an effort I haven't made yet. 

I did buy a silly fancy ink pen in the gift shop, along with some nice cards with archival images. Then I headed to Judd Books and Scoob Books, two close by used bookstores. I highly recommend the second for classics and children's books, though the first has plenty of newer titles to choose from.

At home, Paddington Bear was up to bat—I got a copy of his first adventure at Scoob Books, and I was excited to read about him (I'd only ever seen the stop-motion show when I was a kid!). He's one salty bear from "darkest Peru." I do love him.

Bones and Spittle and Love in Stereo

Again, in spite of my ridiculous AirBnB host deciding to knock on my door while I was dead asleep, today went well. She woke me up for a breakfast of British Raisin Bran, instant coffee, burnt croissants, and a shouting match between her and her friend, but they managed to give me a good piece of advice: I'd only have to take a few steps from the door, and the bus would Calgon-take-me-away to the Victoria and Albert Museum.

I was sure I'd missed this museum on my last trip, so I followed their advice, and stumbled upon my absolute favorite museum, probably in the world: the Natural History Museum. It has dina-saws and elephants and whales. It even has a two-horned narwhal, who is my favorite specimen here.

There is a wall of plesiosaurs, all discovered by the same woman, whose information is on the plaque in this photo. She was kind of amazing. One of the fossils even has a pregnant dinosaur.

Two-tusked narwhal!

I mean, come on. This just made me laugh, and I dropped my metal water bottle, and the whole room looked at me in disgust. Ha! I continued to laugh.

This is a view of one of the upper floors. It's just beautiful.

I took some videos from different vantage points. I love the details of the museum. The dinosaur room has reptiles carved into the walls, and all kinds of plants and animals are carved in around the building, even on the outside. I can't imagine the time and thought it took to make this place so unique.

I left, reluctantly, and then I scouted out a sandwich and went to the V&A, sure it would be new: nope. I came here last time, and found it overwhelming. I felt the same this time, so I jumped on a tour that had just begun.

Stop 1: Chihuly sculpture, the most photographed item in the museum.

Stop 2: Marble vs. Porcelain statues, where the tour guide spit on his own face so many times, I had to leave.

Stop 3: Toilet.
Stop 4: Head to Camden Market, eat a vegan pie.
Stop 5: Primrose Park, where I read in the grass and dogs visited me. At one point, a dog sat on either side of me, and their owner came and said, "Oh look, you're being loved in stereo!"

A good day.