The Transport Museum
“No, no. Talk about your day. Take notes as you walk around”, they said.
My reply? I told them, “it’s a Transport Museum, there’s not much to write about”.
Under protest, and the threat of docked pay, I did it.
With a notepad in pocket, and a camera in hand, I headed to the Transport Museum for A Big Day Out.
A brisk wind caused a shudder to run up my spine. I was wearing my heavy coat but had forgotten my earmuffs.
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I waited in a queue for the doors to open. It transpired that I had chosen a week when the kids were off school. Needless to say, the queue was significantly longer, and I suspect, a lot louder.
The building itself was large and grand. It had what looked like scaffolding poles above the doorway, incorporated into the design. They were rusted, in a way which suggested it was part of the aesthetics. The front of the building was mostly covered in a thick glass. We could all see inside, we just couldn’t get there. I’m sure that was part of the architect’s original vision. I can hear the premise now, ‘Create a need, a desire if you will - they must want to be inside, before they can truly, be inside’.
It wasn’t too long before I was paying the fee to enter.
Still despondent about the task, but with the company credit card, I entered for a day of ‘fun’.
I visited the gift shop first. I purchased as many chocolate bars as would fit into the bag I was carrying. They each had a picture of a different transport vehicle of some sort on the wrapper, although the chocolate inside was the same. I figured this counts as research.
I saw the displays, made notes and took photos. By notes I mean, ‘ASTRONAUT = COOL’ and ‘PILOT = ✓’.
I had visited at least half of the displays when my legs gave way and demanded a break. I needed to recoup and make some more ‘notes’ anyway. I decided to have a spot of lunch at the cafeteria.
I had roasted potatoes, broccoli and pie. I also had a nice cup of tea with one sugar. For dessert, I had chocolate cake.
Sitting there, staring at the food of a diner sat next to me, I couldn’t help but think about how under cooked my potatoes were. I thought about how I should have gone for what they had; the macaroni cheese. The cheese on top was cooked to a perfect golden brown.
After digesting, I got up, and went to the till. I filled my bag again, topping up the chocolate bars with what chocolate cake I could fit in. I then headed back out to the main floor.
I walked straight through it and headed for the exit.
It was raining outside and I had to run to the bus stop. When the bus arrived I hopped aboard.
The only seat available on the bus was next to the engine. It was a warm, but noisy, journey home.
I thanked the bus driver when I got off.
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