museum fail

Decided I'd be the best mum EVER this half term and make the effort to go on lots of adventures, or, failing that, do elaborate superfun crafty things. Monday morning rolled around in a cloud of extreme sleep deprivation and I mainlined some coffee and started frantically searching for something local and awesome. Nothing accessible was at all inspiring or age appropriate, and Pablo started asking to see "the dinosaurs". Heck, why not? It's actually rather easy to trundle down to South Kensington and delightfully free of charge. We got excited, got a magazine for the tube journey and made our merry way there. 

What an amateur mistake!! Even at half past ten in the ruddy morning there was a queue that went round the block just to gain entry to the museum. What kind of idiot goes to the Natural History Museum on the first day of half term? Well, many many kinds, apparently. Plus me. Once finally in somewhere half past eleven it was time so seek out a loo, somewhere to feed the baby, then track down an early lunch (thanks daylight savings!) SEVENTEEN POUNDS poorer after a couple of sandwiches, a second coffee and a strawberry smoothie for the boy and we could join another queue for an hour's shuffle towards the totally underwhelming dinosaur experience. Made faces and "nah-nah"s at the animatronic Rex to ease Pablo's nerves about him ("But why does he need batteries, mum? But why is he not real?") Waded through what felt like the entire population of Britain to grab a glimpse of the blue whale and, I hoped, render the whole day a bit more worthwhile. But it was just so average. I haven't seen much of the museum but it all feels so 80s and could-do-better. It reminded me of the depressing London Aquarium - a bit shabbier than it should be, in need of an upgrade. Is it that my childhood memories of the museums of Washington DC are very rose coloured, or are London's attractions just a bit...crap? And how can a museum that huge be so swamped with people at 10:30 on a Monday morning? It all felt so cramped and British. Either way, Pablo was exhausted but happy and kipped the whole way home. When he wasn't flicking through Metro. Hallelujah.