Torches, torches, run with torches
May. 21st, 2006 10:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ventaYesterday, the parents and I pottered off to Quainton Railway Centre. The directions to which were "get to the A41 near Waddesden, follow the signs". Having made it through Waddesden (which looks like a seriously moneyed area, with a distrubing excess of houses built in the neo-gingerbread period) I ended up with two Very Big Kids bouncing up and down in their seats shouting "puffertrains!" every time another brown sign hove into view.
So, we went and saw puffertrains, (most of which weren't puffing, sadly) and the beautifully fitted carriages which used to transport the likes of Queen Victoria and Winston Churchill around. The centre also has masses of more mundane rolling stock, locos in various stages of restoration, a couple of model railway layouts and a museumsworth of memorabilia. Also a large wood-block model for children, which means I finally understand properly how arches are built. Incidentally, if anyone remembers Oxford's Rewley Rd station which was demolished to make way for the Said Business School in the late 90s, it has been painstakingly rebuilt at Quainton.
The only puffing specimen was Coventry No1, which was being used for training drivers. It's a little tank engine, painted a rather bright blue with red trim. It's better known as "Thomas" at events all over the country. Yesterday, however, it had its sober face on (which is to say, no face at all) and trundled round the yard in a very business-like manner.
The railway centre's only been open a few years, but if you're the kind that has an anorak or two in the closet (just in case), it's well worth a visit.
We headed back to Oxford and to the Far From The Madding Crowd for tea. Nice beer, as ever, but they have dropped immensely in my estimation. I ordered chicken and ham pie - which incidentally was all I got, no vegetables or spuds - and it turned out to be the very worst kind of stew-hat. That is, a round dish of chicken and ham pie filling upon which was balanced a separate square (square! they weren't even trying!) of puff pastry. I don't believe the twain had met until they were served. Bah. Pintwatch, while approving of the Grand Union "Boadicea", has pie-standards too and frowned slightly.
After that we headed, intrigued by a flyer the mother had found, to the University Museum. They were having a late-night opening thing, complete with Javanese music courtesy of the Oxford Gamelan Society, shadow puppets, and all sorts. The University Museum is one of my favourite buildings - its insides were built with such immense imagination. It's very high-ceilinged, supported on slender pillars which burst out into a profusion of wrought iron flowers and leaves. All around its collonades, the supporting squat pillars are made from different stones and marbles, each labelled. Last night coloured lights were running over the walls and ceiling, and the dinosaur skeletons were lit with strange fluorescent blues and greens.
The shadow puppets were interesting, but sadly the acoustics were such that it was difficult to hear the story and see the puppets at the same time. I watched for a while, then wandered off to say hello to the geological exhibits. I like rocks :) I was also reminded that I don't quite understand Gamelan music; it's interesting for a while, then seems to degenerate into meaningless bings and bongs and you end up wishing they'd just shut up.
Many of the Museum's stuffed animals were out, complete with invitations to pat them. (And, interestingly, with labels on the larger animals telling you which zoo they came from, and that they died of natural causes). The leopard has surprisingly soft fur, as does the Shetland pony. I expected the fox to be harsh-furred (like the badger), but it too is soft and fluffy. I pottered round various exhibits, many of which I've seen before but which had been given a new lease of excitment because of the after-hours party atmosphere.
Just before we left, we squeaked into the last 'tour' for the evening of the Pitt Rivers. The PR is a sort of annex to the Museum, and is my favouritest museum ever. It was originally the collection of a gentleman who was everything you'd expect of a Victorian anthropologist - in particular, rapacious. Today, the museum has rather more ethical policies for filling its shelves (and I believe has won awards for such), but the core of its exhibits are colonial-era loot grabbed from round the world.
The PR is the most old-fashioned museum I've ever been in - exhibits are crammed into glass cases, which are crammed into the room. There are some printed cards, but most information is on tiny, hand-written labels affixed to the exhibits themselves. Both museums have recently won an award, however, for being the most child-friendly in the UK. To be honest, I think it's down to the contents. Any child will love the PR - they've got shrunken heads, they've got a witch in a bottle, they've got weapons and feather cloaks and a mummy. In short, the sort of faintly gruesome anthropological exhibit which pretty much any kid will think is cool.
I expected the "torch light tour" tickets I'd snagged to involve a guided tour, but no - they merely released bunches of the public into the PR, in the dark, with torches to explore for themselves. How on earth they got it past Health and Safety I have no idea, but it was immense fun. It's a slightly eerie place at the best of times, and being let in 'after hours' to prowl with a torch was just lovely. Rounding darkened corners with my wind-up torch, I never quite managed to catch the masks and totems chittering to each other; they've had years of practice at dropping into still silence when visitors approach.
Late museum stuff: it's great. There should be more of it.
So, we went and saw puffertrains, (most of which weren't puffing, sadly) and the beautifully fitted carriages which used to transport the likes of Queen Victoria and Winston Churchill around. The centre also has masses of more mundane rolling stock, locos in various stages of restoration, a couple of model railway layouts and a museumsworth of memorabilia. Also a large wood-block model for children, which means I finally understand properly how arches are built. Incidentally, if anyone remembers Oxford's Rewley Rd station which was demolished to make way for the Said Business School in the late 90s, it has been painstakingly rebuilt at Quainton.
The only puffing specimen was Coventry No1, which was being used for training drivers. It's a little tank engine, painted a rather bright blue with red trim. It's better known as "Thomas" at events all over the country. Yesterday, however, it had its sober face on (which is to say, no face at all) and trundled round the yard in a very business-like manner.
The railway centre's only been open a few years, but if you're the kind that has an anorak or two in the closet (just in case), it's well worth a visit.
We headed back to Oxford and to the Far From The Madding Crowd for tea. Nice beer, as ever, but they have dropped immensely in my estimation. I ordered chicken and ham pie - which incidentally was all I got, no vegetables or spuds - and it turned out to be the very worst kind of stew-hat. That is, a round dish of chicken and ham pie filling upon which was balanced a separate square (square! they weren't even trying!) of puff pastry. I don't believe the twain had met until they were served. Bah. Pintwatch, while approving of the Grand Union "Boadicea", has pie-standards too and frowned slightly.
After that we headed, intrigued by a flyer the mother had found, to the University Museum. They were having a late-night opening thing, complete with Javanese music courtesy of the Oxford Gamelan Society, shadow puppets, and all sorts. The University Museum is one of my favourite buildings - its insides were built with such immense imagination. It's very high-ceilinged, supported on slender pillars which burst out into a profusion of wrought iron flowers and leaves. All around its collonades, the supporting squat pillars are made from different stones and marbles, each labelled. Last night coloured lights were running over the walls and ceiling, and the dinosaur skeletons were lit with strange fluorescent blues and greens.
The shadow puppets were interesting, but sadly the acoustics were such that it was difficult to hear the story and see the puppets at the same time. I watched for a while, then wandered off to say hello to the geological exhibits. I like rocks :) I was also reminded that I don't quite understand Gamelan music; it's interesting for a while, then seems to degenerate into meaningless bings and bongs and you end up wishing they'd just shut up.
Many of the Museum's stuffed animals were out, complete with invitations to pat them. (And, interestingly, with labels on the larger animals telling you which zoo they came from, and that they died of natural causes). The leopard has surprisingly soft fur, as does the Shetland pony. I expected the fox to be harsh-furred (like the badger), but it too is soft and fluffy. I pottered round various exhibits, many of which I've seen before but which had been given a new lease of excitment because of the after-hours party atmosphere.
Just before we left, we squeaked into the last 'tour' for the evening of the Pitt Rivers. The PR is a sort of annex to the Museum, and is my favouritest museum ever. It was originally the collection of a gentleman who was everything you'd expect of a Victorian anthropologist - in particular, rapacious. Today, the museum has rather more ethical policies for filling its shelves (and I believe has won awards for such), but the core of its exhibits are colonial-era loot grabbed from round the world.
The PR is the most old-fashioned museum I've ever been in - exhibits are crammed into glass cases, which are crammed into the room. There are some printed cards, but most information is on tiny, hand-written labels affixed to the exhibits themselves. Both museums have recently won an award, however, for being the most child-friendly in the UK. To be honest, I think it's down to the contents. Any child will love the PR - they've got shrunken heads, they've got a witch in a bottle, they've got weapons and feather cloaks and a mummy. In short, the sort of faintly gruesome anthropological exhibit which pretty much any kid will think is cool.
I expected the "torch light tour" tickets I'd snagged to involve a guided tour, but no - they merely released bunches of the public into the PR, in the dark, with torches to explore for themselves. How on earth they got it past Health and Safety I have no idea, but it was immense fun. It's a slightly eerie place at the best of times, and being let in 'after hours' to prowl with a torch was just lovely. Rounding darkened corners with my wind-up torch, I never quite managed to catch the masks and totems chittering to each other; they've had years of practice at dropping into still silence when visitors approach.
Late museum stuff: it's great. There should be more of it.
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Date: 2006-05-21 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-21 07:11 pm (UTC)