Too Many Tourists
I made it to the British Museum just after opening time this morning. Seems like that's the time to go, because it felt like there were 10,000 others with the same idea.
I opted to follow the One Hour Tour, hitting the highlights. Although I didn't follow the map, and the tour was well identified, I didn't notice anyone else on the same route.
There were crowds everywhere except one of the gift shops. It was an oasis of calm, as were the areas by the Nishga’a and Haida poles in the Grand Court. I made a point of seeing the North American display because the collection of art from what is now British Columbia at the Museum of Natural History in New York is significantly more impressive than the collection at the Royal BC Museum in Victoria.
The British Museum has three Haida pole, the Nishga'a one, a few Coast Salish poles. It has a Nu’Chal’Nuth exhibit as well. The Bc First Nations’ displays account for about one quarter of the North American displays. I felt included.
Couldn't say the same about the Crusades. Until this trip to Estonia, I was not aware of the Northern Crusades. I would not have learned about them at the British Museum. In fact, I didn't.
Here I am, whining about what I always whine about -- the Brits don't see anything from any perspectives other their own. Certainly, they have a rich history and a lot of accomplishments. Culturally, British Art and Theatre are wonderful. I'm happy to have had the opportunities and experiences I've had. Despite all this accomplishment, the blinders are, well, blinding.
So this afternoon, I went to a performance of A Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. The text was wonderfully relevant to contemporary society, and the acting was engaging. Sienna Miller carried the first half in a rich southern accent. Colm Meaney was a caring, distracted father, carrying much of the second half. Poor Jack O’Connell was either naked or in wet clothes for much of the time. I was cold just looking at him.
So far, I've been to five productions, and the only one that had no children on stage was the Mentor. Hmmm
It's time to go to my last cheap seat -- The Comedy About a Bank Robbery. I'm not expecting anything other than fun.
Tomorrow, I return to Canada. Although this has been a wonderful trip, it'll be nice to be home.
I opted to follow the One Hour Tour, hitting the highlights. Although I didn't follow the map, and the tour was well identified, I didn't notice anyone else on the same route.
There were crowds everywhere except one of the gift shops. It was an oasis of calm, as were the areas by the Nishga’a and Haida poles in the Grand Court. I made a point of seeing the North American display because the collection of art from what is now British Columbia at the Museum of Natural History in New York is significantly more impressive than the collection at the Royal BC Museum in Victoria.
The British Museum has three Haida pole, the Nishga'a one, a few Coast Salish poles. It has a Nu’Chal’Nuth exhibit as well. The Bc First Nations’ displays account for about one quarter of the North American displays. I felt included.
Couldn't say the same about the Crusades. Until this trip to Estonia, I was not aware of the Northern Crusades. I would not have learned about them at the British Museum. In fact, I didn't.
Here I am, whining about what I always whine about -- the Brits don't see anything from any perspectives other their own. Certainly, they have a rich history and a lot of accomplishments. Culturally, British Art and Theatre are wonderful. I'm happy to have had the opportunities and experiences I've had. Despite all this accomplishment, the blinders are, well, blinding.
So this afternoon, I went to a performance of A Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. The text was wonderfully relevant to contemporary society, and the acting was engaging. Sienna Miller carried the first half in a rich southern accent. Colm Meaney was a caring, distracted father, carrying much of the second half. Poor Jack O’Connell was either naked or in wet clothes for much of the time. I was cold just looking at him.
So far, I've been to five productions, and the only one that had no children on stage was the Mentor. Hmmm
It's time to go to my last cheap seat -- The Comedy About a Bank Robbery. I'm not expecting anything other than fun.
Tomorrow, I return to Canada. Although this has been a wonderful trip, it'll be nice to be home.
Thanks for your travelogue, Juliette! It's been wonderful to hear about your adventures. Have a good flight home.
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