Hello Again, London (Pt 3)

I cannot blog about London and not mention the weather.  Two months after our last visit, the weather was the same - rain and grey skies.  A few degrees warmer, that's all.  And some 50 mp/h winds to deal with.

All ready for London with his Beatles T-shirt, but we had to wait out the rain.

He always manages to find something to do.

Getting high on his toothpaste.

"Hmm, let's see why this is so yummy."

Okay, we couldn't wait forever, so we headed out to West India Quay (WIQ) near Canary Wharf.

I decided to bring him to a museum where he could have some fun.  I found out about The Museum of London at the Docklands, thanks to http://www.londontoddler.com/.

They have a kids' play area called Mudlarks.  They also have story telling sessions and other kids activities.  Everything is free, but you need to get an entry ticket (it's free) for Mudlarks from the reception.  There are a few play sessions a day, each lasting 40 minutes.  They give out tickets as they need to limit the number of children for each session.

At the Mudlarks - sand and water, what could be better?

There were quite a number of big kids around and they were a bit too
boisterous for a tiny little boy, so he could not enjoy the rest of the play area.
He was happy to hang around the big and strange bath tub.

This is the first museum I have been to where there are more kids than adults.  The few grown-ups I saw who didn't come with children looked a bit bewildered by all the little ones tearing around the place.  The moms on the other hand all looked relieved and relaxed.

Lucas had a field day running around with a group of pre-schoolers who were on some secret mission.  He ran whenever they ran and stopped whenever they stopped, totally clueless but just happy to sort of be part of the gang.  They must be wondering who was that strange little chinese boy.

It is kind of hard to look at exhibits and read lengthy write-ups when you are chasing after a toddler.  From fleeting glances, I gathered that this was a history museum about the Docklands, with a feature on London's involvement in the sugar and slave trade.  Yes, it was serious stuff.  How it ended up as a kids' playground of sorts, I have no idea.

I managed a quick shot of this bomb that caught my eye, and the interesting write-up below.  

The Blitz was German's strategic bombing of Britain during WWII.  
London was bombed for 57 consecutive nights.

Bomb shelters.

Lunch at Rum & Sugar restaurant at the museum.

View of WIQ from Canary Wharf.

We crossed the bridge to Canary Wharf whilst being buffeted by super strong winds.  We were headed to the Tube station to return to our hotel.  We had had an interesting journey to WIQ earlier on, no thanks to the Transport for London website.  It involved a very long bus ride through some very dodgy neighbourhoods, followed by a long ride on the DLR (Docklands Light Rail).  After getting off the bus, I spotted the bus stop where we would take the bus on our return trip.  I decided then that no way were we taking the bus back, I do not want to wait at that bus stop.  Turned out that Canary Wharf was only four stations away from Waterloo, on the same line.  Had I not been so adamant about not taking the Tube, we would have had a much shorter journey earlier on.  Felt a bit silly.

Our second museum visit of course had to be the V&A, again.  And of course it had to rain, again.  But no bumping into the Olivia Newton John fan club this time.

On arrival, I made a beeline for the fashion gallery which was closed on our last visit in April.  I love period clothing and the photos below do not do justice, they were beautiful.

 

Wedding gown (top left) and lace veil from 1851.

 

Cool projections on the roof of the gallery.

The collection was excellent but small.  The gallery was featuring a paid exhibition of glamorous British ball gowns dating back to the 1950's.  I decided against spending £10 and having to rush through that exhibition as the occupier of the stroller I was pushing did not quite enjoy looking at dresses, and made it loudly known.

This visit to the V&A was in some ways much better than the last, and in other ways it was much worse.  Worse because I had a screaming toddler to deal with.  It started in the museum cafe and I think I heard a few spoons clattering onto the table out of shock.  Despite the screaming, we actually managed to see quite a lot this time, and I have photos :)

First-off, we wandered into the Islamic Middle Eastern gallery by chance, simply because of its proximity to the fashion gallery.  There I discovered 16th-17th century Iznik ceramics from Turkey, and they are absolutely gorgeous.

After lunch, I was desperately looking for some place to let Lucas out of the stroller.  I didn't want to go back to the ceramics gallery like the last time, so we went to the Glass galleries on level 4.

He was SO happy.

Admired a couple of fine pieces.

Then off to do better things, like climbing stairs...

...pressing buttons..

...and making friends.

Mostly, he just ran round and round until the guide advised me to put him back into the stroller for his own safety.  The guide said many a kid has literally ran himself into the corners of the display cabinets.  I didn't doubt it for a minute.

I took some quick shots of these gorgeous pieces displayed in the 'masters' cabinet:

Lino Tagliapietra's magnificient Bilbao, 2001.

He is considered by many famous glass artists to be the master of glass.  

He hails from the island of Murano and achieved the glass Maestro status
 at the early age of 22.

Dante Marioni's Reticello Leaf, 2001

Toots Zynsky's Dondolante Serena 2000

Dale Chihuly's Deep Blue and Bronze Gold Persian Set, 1999 

There were many other interesting pieces around Room 129 but the one below caught my eye because, well, the dog has a boat on his head.

Dutch artist, Richard Meitner's Sea Dog, 2003.
Handblown glass assembled with found objects.

We also ventured to the Architecture gallery just next to the Glass galleries.  It covers the history of architecture using models, photographs and original drawings.

I would love to live in this courtyard house by Patrick Gwynne, 1960. 

This is Daniel Libeskind's controversial design for V&A's extension called 'Spiral',
to house its contemporary collections.  The project was scrapped.
The new gallery would have cost £100 million and would have looked like this:  

We exited the Glass galleries and I saw this interesting play of light on the staircases.  I took a shot whilst Lucas screamed away in his stroller:

And another one.  Still screaming.

This was pretty too.

And this.  By this time, I was desperately looking for a deserted corner to hide. 

We stumbled onto the Metalwork gallery, with its rows and rows 

of black cast ironwork mounted on plain white walls - the effect was quite stunning.

The Metalwork gallery overlooks the sculpture gallery.
At the alcove where I took this shot, Lucas finally fell asleep after what seemed like
a lifetime of screaming.  Maybe it was 10 minutes, maybe half an hour, I don't know.

He was exhausted and so was I (museum screaming is very stressful).  I wandered around in a bit of a daze after that.  As I was taking a photo of the Cast Courts (see below), a guide came up to me, commented that Lucas was asleep, and said that the Jewellery gallery was just at the end of the corridor (I had no idea).  He said there were a few steps going down but he would gladly help me carry down the stroller.  I was really touched by his kindness which came out of the blue.  I recalled passing him earlier in the corridor when Lucas was screaming his head off.  Maybe he has a screaming toddler at home too.

Thanks to the helpful guide, I now know a shortcut to the Jewellery gallery from the cafe at the ground floor (take the lift near the toilets up to the Silver gallery).  And the Jewellery gallery?  So many breathtaking pieces, so little time.

These are the Cast Courts, filled with plaster casts of tombs, friezes and sculptures.
The two giant columns is a full scale replica of Trajan's Column in Rome.  It is so tall that it has to be cut into two to fit the space, even though the space is already two-stories high.
The original column is 30 metres high, built in 113 AD.