London is one of the greatest -- arguably the greatest -- museum city in the world. London also has some of the worst weather of a major city in the world. Chicago has the extremely cold winters; Singapore has the unreasonable heat and humidity; London has sunless winters where every day brings a slow drizzle of precipitation with a temperature just high enough to keep it all from turning to snow (but a few degrees colder and it's snowmageddon: all trains stop everywhere). Chris, Bob, and I filled many cold, weekend days with adventures to and in London's famous museums.
It's not that Bob doesn't like museums, he just doesn't appreciate them. He seems to take the triumphs of human civilization as a given and hasn't shown a great interest in the lineage that brought us here, or its documentation in museums. He does like museums, though, because they present wide open rooms for him to unleash his best run-walking skills, regardless of who may be standing in his way. He doesn't like the arbitrary rules of museums -- why can't he touch that rough surface of thick globbed paint on canvas?
Mum and Dad are museum people. Christine even has a t-shirt announcing as much. At museums, you stand, you look, you read, you contemplate, you try to piece it all together. Bob stands, but not still. He looks, but then he looks at something else. Museums trips with a toddler are all about timing. If we get Bob to sleep in the Ergo Baby, then we have about one hour to pursue adult activities (that involve either holding still or walking, end of list). One hour isn't enough time to enjoy the entirety of a world class museum. To maximize the time in the museum, the trick is to get him to fall asleep right after entering. Normally, we have a lunch near the museum and then prod him to stay awake until we arrive at the museum, then coax him to sleep. Many times, on the Tube, on the way to the museum, he becomes sleepy. If he naps early, he's less likely nap after lunch, so we try to prod him awake, until after lunch and we get to the museum -- then it's nap time.
Once he wakes up, then we walk behind him through the museum, trying to read and see as much as possible while also keeping him from touching the priceless artefacts. Sometimes we try to hold him, but that doesn't last long before he squirms away, like a fish not held firm by a hook. Sometimes I carry him on my shoulders, and that is usually fun for him for awhile. The important thing is, we're not outside catching flu from the cold drizzle. And, also important, consuming these documents of the best of civilization
Also important: admission for these museum adventures is almost always free in London, a truly great museum city indeed.
Bob, at the Tate Britain, tearing past what looks like a Turner.
The key to the entire adventure: getting Bob to sleep in the Ergo Baby, so Mum and Dad can walk, read, look, and enjoy.
Enthralled, momentarily, with some Renaissance painting at the National Gallery.
Surveying the National Gallery foyer
On a tour at the National Gallery led by Bob.
Tearing through the Chinese and Indian section of the British Museum
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