It comes to something when you can travel around Europe and the USA without seeing so much as a drop of blood in the street. Come to London and you can see a dead body in a main Brixton street (covered with blue tarp), a huge police presence and streets taped off. It’s all very CSI. Who knew a bus journey could be so eye-opening. Thankfully the Imperial War Museum was a little more sedate….well it would have been if it wasn’t full of school kids with attitude. The kind of mouthy, vile specimens whose heads you’d like to shove into the exhibitions to prove that people don’t fight wars so that a bunch of 13 yr olds can run amok and act like Chavs. At least there were a few exhibitions deemed too ‘harrowing’ for the little shits so we were allowed some peace and quiet. Highlight of my visit – getting to stand (stoop) inside a Halifax bomber. Those WWII pilots must have been small is all I can say. Highlight of my day would have to be the guy who rolled up in his caravan late afternoon. All of a sudden the Caravan Club got a hell of a lot more interesting. Long red – and I mean red not ginger, hair and mascara. That alone is worth my membership fee.
Useless bit of information learned:- The War Museum used to be a
loony bin Psychiatric hospital. Well I never. It’s amazing what you can learn from a random American who latches themselves onto you.