Friday, August 20, 2010
Our last full day of vacation. Tomorrow I can begin to worry about the rest of my life – 6 weeks until Bob out processes from the Air Force and we leave England for good. I like England; they pronounce my name just by seeing it in print. I’ve NEVER had an American stranger say it right. Anyway.
We decided to pack up first, and go out later if we got our work done, so we worked all morning folding clothes, packing presents, jumping on the mattress to get the water out, cleaning out the van… We finished in time for me to wash my hair before leaving for lunch at McDonald’s (with free ketchup). After lunch we made the short drive to St. Fagan’s museum of Welsh Life. This place has a nice gift shop, about 100 buildings of various ages moved in from all over Wales, including a working farm. Admission is free, but you have to pay 3GBP to park. The thing about this museum is it employs grumpy people and has a lot of rules. No strollers in the old buildings. No touching, running, feeding the animals, reading the books in the shop, etc. It seems set up to ensure children continue to think History is dull. Another gripe I have is that the information signs for each building are across the path, or down the path from the building. Sometimes it isn’t clear to which building they refer. I suppose in very crowded times this would help each person have an opportunity to both read the sign and see the building, but it is a little inconvenient.
We were about tired of it anyway when the rain set in for good, about 4pm, so we headed back home. I had “Janice’s Chicken” in the crockpot, so all that was needed was to heat up the corn and set the table. It was a good supper, followed by “Simon Says” and more laundry.
Now Bob and I need to figure out which road to take home. We plan to pop up to Fairford for gas, but do we go back to the M4, to London’s M25, or try to cut across country? We may never know. ;-)
1 comment:
I know what you mean about your name. My middle name "Chandelle" (shortened to "Chan") was never pronounced correctly by Americans. Yet in Canada, they had no problems with it. And they knew what it meant ("candle" in French).
I absolutely hate museums with poor signage. Marline and I have been to several like that in the states, where the signs aren't clear about what they're pointing to or describing.
You'd think when constructing the place, they could do a "test run" with strangers, just like movies are usually played for a test audience before final editing. Have the strangers fill out comment cards so they could correct those things before opening the museum to the public.
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