National Maritime Museum

I still wake up sometimes in the middle of the night and feel completely disoriented.  What is this place? What day is it? Where am I? Why am I so sweaty? 

In Kuna when one of the kids would wake me up with their wailing in the dark of the night, I could recognize the voice, check with the child, and be back in bed without hardly opening my eyes.  My subconscious is having trouble making the transition here.  

Our house is so hot.  Very few buildings have central air conditioning here.  And I don’t think many homes do.  People are telling us that this is an exceptionally hot summer, but it seems like people are saying that everywhere, and they are saying it about the winters too.   Anyway, we sleep with the windows open and the curtains up to let the air come in.  But that means the room is in full sunlight before 5:00 am and we get the pleasure of the morning noises.  I actually don’t mind the noises so much, particularly the sound of women’s heels clicking down the sidewalk, or the new birds I’ve never heard or the chit chat of the neighbors.  I can also recognize the sound of suitcase wheels rolling down the concrete.   Nearly every day someone on my street is leaving or returning from travels.  

Anyway- this post is really supposed to be about the museum.  


We haven’t taken the DLR train in a couple weeks and it was nice to be back on it. It involves a little more walking but it is so much faster and so much cooler than the buses.

On Friday morning we met the Farmers at the Greenwich playground again.  We let the kids play for awhile but rain was on its way so we headed toward the National Maritime Museum which is right next to the park.  

The museum was full of interesting things but we had trouble keeping the kids interested.  Fortunately they had some interactive/playful galleries.  I told Richard we will have to go back with just Cameron and Eli.  Museums are hard to appreciate if you can’t read.  


I can’t remember a darn thing about this boat except that it is really old, and belonged to a past King. But I took a picture because I thought it was beautiful and romantic.


Here Mim and Si are “learning” what the crew had to eat for months at sea as opposed to what the officers had to eat.


Of course I can’t remember what these are called either, but they are old decorative mast pieces. They reminded me of the Voyage of the Dawn Treader.


Practicing loading a ship. The kids had formed a queue to take turns at the seat, the adults watched and laughed a little bit as the more assertive kids made rules about how long a turn lasted and some kids were compliant and others were not.

As we left the museum I was stressed and tired and frustrated.  The kids were getting wild and losing control of themselves, as was I.  At the bus stop I lost my cool and told Mim and Si that they would not get ice lollies when we got home and they fell apart.  So Miriam threw fits the whole way home.  I had opted for the bus because the bus stop was right outside the museum, but then the heat and humidity from the rain just made us all more irritable.   Public transportation loses some appeal when you can’t let your child have a tantrum in the privacy of your own vehicle.  I didn’t get any dirty looks though, even from the patient man sitting in front of Miriam when she kicked the back of his seat in fits of four year old rage over ice lollies.  

We survived the ride home and as soon as we walked through the door I hosed Mim and Si’s sweaty and puddle-jumping bodies off in the bathtub and put them down for naps in their underwear.  Cameron and Eli were banished to the garden and I came down from the ledges of my mind in peace and quiet, vowing to never take the kids anywhere ever again. 

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