Hunterian Museum

You may be thinking at this point that once I arrived in Cambridge, I didn’t ever leave. Well, that is not entirely true. While not terribly anxious to leave Cambridge, I was enticed to get on a bus, then train, then subway, one rainy Saturday afternoon. You may be wondering what would convince me to leave my current comfort zone, and the answer is this: the promise of jars and jars of pickled heads and some terrifying teratology. Yes, I do love all things creepy.

Salim, much to my extreme delight, had a birthday not to long ago. The best part of Salim’s birthday is that when Liz asked him what he wanted to do for the glorious anniversary of his birth, he replied, the Hunterian Museum. Salim is so great! Liz, known for her abilities to make birthday dreams come true, put all her reservations and fears aside and escorted two very eager creepy people to a very very creepy museum.

Liz’s day did not begin well. It seemed that the universe was not her friend. In addition to the rain, the trains weren’t co-operative and Liz and Salim had some errands to run. Poor Liz and Salim encountered delay after delay on their way to London. I, of course, had very accommodating buses and trains, which resulted in my arriving in London just over an hour early. Poor Liz and Salim were still in Wimbledon when I arrived at Kings Cross, and so we decided to meet at the British Library. You can see from these pictures, I had quite a bit of time to kill whilst Liz and Salim were trapped underground.

When my dear friends were finally released from the bowels of the London Underground, we rushed off to the Hunterian. The Hunterian is a seriously impressive museum and gives you a very strong sense of the power of 19^th century comparative anatomy, provided you have a strong stomach. Salim and I were in creepy scholarly heaven. As we rushed from cabinet to cabinet, jar to jar, we became increasing unaware that our dear Liz was going a little green around the gills. Luckily, the Hunterian is well equipped for such situations. There are stacks of collapsible seats along the wall that you can unfold if you need to have a seat. There are also large leather seats designed for people that may need something a little more substantial, like a place to rest one’s head. In addition, the thoughtful curators left shelves of non-creepy pamphlets (mostly tourist attractions in London and the surrounding area) to help distract the poor souls that accompanied overzealous lovers of all things gross and creepy.

Liz may well win the prize for the best friend ever. Never once did she rush us, complain of feeling queasy, or leave the building. There was no vomiting, fainting, crying or other potentially embarrassing (although mildly justified) behaviour. In fact, when another group with a less than enthusiastic member walked by and the less than enthusiastic member started to slide down a column turning green, I looked proudly at our Liz, sitting completely upright with her fine collection of travel reading. When the other group’s less than enthusiastic member closed her eyes and lay down on the leather seat, our Liz managed to make eye contact and even managed to muster a convincingly sincere smile. I thought smugly that Salim and I had the best less than enthusiastic person ever. At the end of what was a glorious time for Salim and me, our Liz managed to smile and say cheerfully “Do you think we could stop for a cup of tea before we head off for dinner?” Liz is one of those remarkable creatures that only requires a cup of tea to make things better.

Dinner was outstanding. We ate tons and tons and tons of incredible Japanese food and some very refreshing Japanese beer. I would go on and on about our amazing dinner, but I think this entry is long enough.