I woke up early-ish and got ready to leave. I stopped by the local supermarket to grab a coffee and got on my way towards the closest Overground station – this being London, it was not far. This was an easy commute since there were no changes, and I could just relax on the train. I got off on Forest Hill and walked up the… well, the aforementioned hill, until I reached the Horniman Museum and Gardens, in the Borough of Lewisham around 9:00 – passing a Costa Coffee on the way. I filed this information for later reference.

Normally, I would not have gone to a museum which had a Natural History Gallery closed for renovations, but they were running a dinosaur exhibit that created the perfect excuse to go there, even if it was a bit out of the way. Frederick Horniman was the heir to his family’s tea emporium in the 19th century. He started travelling the world around 1860, collecting artefacts from his travels, and developed the museum to exhibit them. The original museum opened in 1890, and the gardens in 1895.

The gardens are almost 6.5 hectares (16 acres), divided in different areas, including a bee garden, a sound garden where you can make music with metal tubes, a grassland garden, a prehistoric garden, a grassland garden… I wandered around a little and was surprised to catch a glimpse of City of London by the 1903 bandstand. I knew the gardens were a bit far out, but I had not realised how much.

I explored for about an hour, then I headed towards the Victorian Conservatory, built in 1894 in Horniman’s private residence. A century later, it was transported to the gardens and restored by British Heritage. It is a quaint little greenhouse in white iron and glass, with pressed tiles on the floor. Next to it stands a little café that I would have stayed at if I had not wanted to see some of the themed flowerbeds.

At 10:00, when the museum opened, I entered to see the exhibition Dinosaur rEvolution, which looked at the evolution of Dinosauria into birds. The travelling exhibition has five animatronics, a couple dozen cast fossils, several plushies and beautiful palaeoart. The T-Rex animatronic had some feathers, and the information notice asked the reader if they would find the Jurassic Park tyrannosaur less scary with them. I honestly would find a feathered Rexy even more terrifying. The exhibition was all right, with plenty of information, but there was nothing real, which was a bit of a bummer. But since it is a travelling exhibition, it makes sense they would not be moving around the real thing. However, given the ticket price, I expected something a bit larger.

After I was done, I decided to check out the rest of the museum. First, I saw the anthropological galleries, which had the most bizarre array of artefacts – from an Egyptian mummy to a Spanish inquisition chair, along Inuit costumes, European masks, African religious items, Indian masks, Easter eggs, prehistoric items from all around the UK… There was a wish tree, where you can write something on a colourful paper and hang it from the branches.

In the basement of the museum there is a small aquarium, which was full of schoolchildren on a day trip. I could have got the tickets online for that. However, I did not know how big the dinosaur exhibition would be, and I did not want to rush over. When I seemed to have the time, I decided to go down to the aquarium. It had a handful of tanks – jellyfish, coral reefs, Amazon rainforests, a lot of clownfish and a handful of poisonous frogs, mostly colourful stuff to grab attention. I managed not to get run over by the kids, which was a good thing.

After I had seen the aquarium, I considered checking out the Butterfly House, because those are always beautiful. However, since I knew I’d want to go back to the museum and gardens in a couple of years, when the natural history gallery reopens, I decided to head towards the train station. I would see the butterflies another time. That way I could be on my way to the airport with some buffer time without rushing my way through and stressed over connection. Instead, I checked the museum’s tea gallery, which summarised the history of tea and how it ties with colonialism, not pulling any punches towards the Horniman tea emporium itself. Funnily enough, the tea brand still exists in some Mediterranean and South American countries, but not in the UK.

On my way back to the station, I stopped at the Costa Coffee I had seen before for a drink and a snack. Unfortunately, the nice barista forgot to put the vanilla syrup into my vanilla latte – oh, the drama. Since the coffee was hot, I did not really notice until I was already on the Overground, and turning around was not worth it.

I had to change at Whitechapel into Hammersmith & City, but since I had the extra time, I decided to walk a little and go down into the Elizabeth Line, which, believe it or not, I had never used before. The commute time was the same anyway. The platforms felt so new and clean, lacking the grit that other stations have – not that they are dirty, really. They’re just… not that new or aseptic.

Even with the little detour, I reached Liverpool Street with time to take an earlier train than I had originally given myself as ideal – which is a couple of trains earlier than the one I would need to be right on time, but since that time the train just did not reach the airport, I’ve lost some faith in the Stansted Express. I went to the end of the platform, and sat down in the first carriage of the train. I was the only person there, even after the conductor announced that “the first carriage was almost empty, please move forward for comfort so the rear of the train is less crowded.” Happy to be an “almost”, I guess – and good that the carriage did not become anything close to full during the trip.

There were no issues reaching the airport, but security was crazy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many queues, and so long ever. When my backpack was flagged for secondary inspection I understood why – the person in front of me was told he was carrying “too many contact lenses”, and my tiny handcuffs key chain was apparently extremely threatening. Then they needed to check aaaall the electronics, and my boots. However, the security guard said that he was sorry and that I should not have been pulled over because of the key chain. I’ve never had a security officer apologise to me for pulling me over for secondary inspection – and honestly, that was the key chain I bought for my first apartment… in 2001? I’ve flown with it before countless of times… Hilarious…

I put on my boots, and headed off to buy some sushi at the Stansted Itsu. Sadly, the quiet area has stopped being so – they have closed the upstairs toilets and now they send everyone downstairs, so it was packed with holidaymakers and people hyping up toddlers, which I find a horrid mistake to make just before jumping on a plane. Thus, I drank my miso soup, ate my sushi, and buggered off to wander the airport – better than the cacophony of kiddos running, squealing and acting up. The airport was full, and while I am usually better at dealing with other travellers, I had been looking forward to the “quiet area”. Either that or I was a bit tired and everyone was rubbing me off the wrong way, I guess.

When it was time to board, queue went extremely slowly. The airline line personnel were being extremely picky with the luggage, measuring every backpack and trolley. Eventually, the slow process made departure late, so the end of the queue was rushed. They barely eyed my backpack, though I was asked to turn around to show it to the check-in agent.

The plane was full and way too many people were not aware of “boarding from the rear door” when their seat number was high, causing a bit of a jam. I found my seat, huddled in, and shut off for a while. I woke up with 40 minutes to land. When we did, we took a bus which conveniently left us right in front of passport control. The only problem on arrival? It was 31 ºC and sunny, and I was wearing clothes chosen for the 13 ºC and rain in London. I guess the order of digits is… important when you’re wearing longs sleeves, layers, and knee-high boots – which by the way I think have seen their last concert trip. RIP. You will be missed, cool concert boots.