As a child, I remember tagging along whenever Mummy brought her students to the National Museum on a History excursion.
And I used to listen in rapt attention as she explained the dioramas and exhibits to her class of about 60, handed out her worksheets, and generally played Historian for the day. Happy and contented that I was the only kid not to be in a grubby school uniform.
I recall her telling a boy much older than me, that we cannot move into the future without first knowing about our past and doing something useful in the present. So although I have been to the The Met, plus a host of other famous places of restored antiquity, I feel abit guilty that through the years, I have neglected our very own
Le Grande Dame in exchange for her more exotic international sisters.
But all that was put to rest on Sunday when we realised just how at home we were to step into the airconditioned passages of the Museum's recent reinvention.
It didn't matter that it took a travelling Hellenistic exhibition from the Louvre to bring us here.
The irony was lost on us.
Labels: Places