It is a long-running joke that any ambitious plans we make for New Year's Eve are sure to end in disappointment. Despite our track record, we decided to try one more time and ring in the New Year in Amsterdam. After delays and a couple of hours sitting on the plane at the gate, the captain announced they were unloading the bags. Never a good sign. Just as we finally got clearance, the emergency landing of an incoming flight shut down the runway at Gatwick Airport. No one was hurt, but the Low Countries were not going to be in the cards. We were treated to a bit of surreal theatre as Easyjet agents pleaded for passengers' patience as "you know, people could have died tonight" in the same breath as stressing with equal solemnity, "You must return any items bought in the duty-free store before exiting the terminal."
Grounded and resigned, we headed into London proper to find some kind of entertainment and festivities. Rich decided to introduce me to the dinosaurs of his childhood. When we arrived at the Natural History Museum, the queue wrapped dauntingly around the enormous building, but a friendly guard informed us the other entrance would save us over an hour. There was still a line indoors, the length of which one typically sees for brand new rollercoasters, but the dinosaur gallery was still impressive. Complete skeletons are exhibited in a sort of low light, casting shadows in high relief. It does wonders for the hairs-on-the-back-of-your-neck sort of tingling, Jurassic Park effect. I kept expecting to hear a hiss in the grasses, or perhaps, feel a distant rumble under my feet.
My pick was "The Man Who Never Lived and Will Never Die" at the Museum of London. The BBC's Sherlock is, in my opinion, only the absolute best show on TV these days, despite the long gaps between seasons... and it has spurred me to re-visit the original texts. The special exhibit paid homage to all Sherlocks past and present, and some displays were carefully curated to make your own forensic deductions: ink spots on cuffs, uneven wearing on boot soles, etc. We also learned Arthur Conan Doyle had been heavily influenced by the work of Edgar Allan Poe! Not surprisingly, the Museum of London did a particularly fine job capitalizing on the stories' relationship to the city: original maps tracing Holmes and Watson's chases through different parts of Victorian London juxtaposed with fast, GoPro-style videos tracing the same routes in modern London.
With the tune of BBC's Sherlock theme inevitably on repeat in my head, we wandered over the Millennium Bridge. On the other side of the Thames, a father playing with his kids caught my eye. He looked so familiar I couldn't help but stare. Then I realized - it was Detective Inspector Lestrade! Or rather, the actor Rupert Graves, who plays Sherlock's friend/contact in the police. I managed to drag my eyes away and not disturb the man with his family by running up to him with my inane "But... but... but I just watched clips of you in the museum." Such a fun celebrity sighting!
Grounded and resigned, we headed into London proper to find some kind of entertainment and festivities. Rich decided to introduce me to the dinosaurs of his childhood. When we arrived at the Natural History Museum, the queue wrapped dauntingly around the enormous building, but a friendly guard informed us the other entrance would save us over an hour. There was still a line indoors, the length of which one typically sees for brand new rollercoasters, but the dinosaur gallery was still impressive. Complete skeletons are exhibited in a sort of low light, casting shadows in high relief. It does wonders for the hairs-on-the-back-of-your-neck sort of tingling, Jurassic Park effect. I kept expecting to hear a hiss in the grasses, or perhaps, feel a distant rumble under my feet.
My pick was "The Man Who Never Lived and Will Never Die" at the Museum of London. The BBC's Sherlock is, in my opinion, only the absolute best show on TV these days, despite the long gaps between seasons... and it has spurred me to re-visit the original texts. The special exhibit paid homage to all Sherlocks past and present, and some displays were carefully curated to make your own forensic deductions: ink spots on cuffs, uneven wearing on boot soles, etc. We also learned Arthur Conan Doyle had been heavily influenced by the work of Edgar Allan Poe! Not surprisingly, the Museum of London did a particularly fine job capitalizing on the stories' relationship to the city: original maps tracing Holmes and Watson's chases through different parts of Victorian London juxtaposed with fast, GoPro-style videos tracing the same routes in modern London.
With the tune of BBC's Sherlock theme inevitably on repeat in my head, we wandered over the Millennium Bridge. On the other side of the Thames, a father playing with his kids caught my eye. He looked so familiar I couldn't help but stare. Then I realized - it was Detective Inspector Lestrade! Or rather, the actor Rupert Graves, who plays Sherlock's friend/contact in the police. I managed to drag my eyes away and not disturb the man with his family by running up to him with my inane "But... but... but I just watched clips of you in the museum." Such a fun celebrity sighting!
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