An interest in history

Last weekend, I went to the National History Museum in London with a friend. I hadn’t been there in more than 10 years and had forgotten how interesting a place it was. Though Dippy the dinosaur was not there to greet us at the entrance, it was great seeing the blue whale skeleton suspended above in the Hintze Hall. I should explain to those, not from  London, Dippy is the Diplodocus skeleton cast that has been present in the museum since 1905.

I never realized that a blue whale does not actually have a skull. From what I could see it’s skull comprised of just two bones. The part that supports the fins hand long finger-like bones. From the tip of the mandible to the end of it’s tail, this not so little beauty is 25 meters long and hangs above many of the other star exhibits.

There were so many exhibits to see that I was lost in the museum for over 2 hours. From the 1000+-year-old enormous tree stump to the American mastodon. Other interesting exhibits included the dinosaur exhibit, the Attenborough studio, and the human biology section. I would definitely recommend a visit to the museum for those interested in a bit of history. Entrance is free and you are free to wander at your own pace.

I loved history when I was little. Trying to find out a bit more about the past. My favourite time periods: Ancient Greeks/ Eygptians, Tudor monarchy and Victorian.  Even in fictional books and movies, I am fond of the plots where the story has a past somehow linked to the present. The events of the past are what brought the future into being.

When I was little, I dreamed of being an archeologist. I was about 8 years old, sitting in my bedroom with a book about dinosaurs. Simply amazing that these powerful and wonderful creatures had once roamed the earth. On the last page, there was a map of the world depicting all of the places fossils had been found.  I was so sad because as a naive 8-year old I had convinced myself that all of the fossils had been found. There were none left for me to find. Thus the end of my eight-year-old self’s dream.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s