11th December 2025: Underground and University London {United Kingdom, December 2025}

Posted on 16 May 2026 by JBinnacle

It was not too much of a chilly London morning. I popped into the underground to go leave my luggage at Liverpool Street station – where there is (you guessed it) a Costa Coffee. Then, I headed towards Baker Street Station, where I had booked guided visit with the Hidden London project, by the London Transport Museum. I arrived with some time, so first I explored the Wonderpass – which is a regular underground pedestrian tunnel which allows to cross the road, and has been “decorated” with facts and details about the history of the area, and turned into a small museum.

A few minutes were enough there, so I spent the rest of my time at The Regent’s Park, one of the Royal Parks in London. Between 1536 and 1541, Henry VIII, now head of the Anglican church, ordered the dissolution of the monasteries. Land that used to belong to Catholic orders went to the crown, and although much was sold to fund the King’s military campaigns, the area that comprises Regent’s Park today was retained as hunting grounds. In the 1810s, it was transformed into a pleasure garden with the blessing of the Prince Regent – who would go on to reign as George IV. Today, it is home to the London Zoo, a rose garden, a lake, several fountains, and even a whole university campus.

Regent's Park waterfront in the autumn. Trees on the left are bare, trees on the right are golden.

After a while, I headed towards Baker Street Station to await the beginning of my tour. The meeting point was the Sherlock Holmes Statue, which is, ironically, placed in Marylebone Road. The perpendicular road is indeed Baker Street, where the fictional address of the literary detective is – 221B, which today is a museum dedicated to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s books, recreating scenes from the stories. The statue was created by John Doubleday and installed in 1999. Arthur Conan Doyle (1859 – 1930) wrote four novels and over 50 short stories featuring the detective. Today the character – possibly the most famous fictional detective ever – is remembered for his uncanny logical deductions, while other personality traits – misogyny or drug addiction – tend to be tip-toed around.

Statue of Sherlock Holmes in front of Baker Street station.

Around 10:20, the people from the London Transport Museum came to check us in. This is one of those kinds of visits for which you need to bring a piece of ID, probably for insurance reasons. I had been wanting to try one of Hidden London tours for a while, despite them being expensive, and in the end I had chosen Baker Street: The World’s First Underground, as it promised to take you “behind the scenes” of the oldest underground station in the world.

Back in 1863, the Metropolitan Railway company had revolutionised transport by deciding to lay their tracks underground. At that time, London was one of the most populated cities in the world, and crossing it took an hour and a half. The project cut down time to 20 minutes. Unfortunately, we are talking about actual steam trains continouslymoving through tunnels, and the coal smoke was not… the healthiest to breathe, one could say.

The tour takes around 90 minutes, but it is set as more grandiose than it actually is. Most of the “hidden spots” are just service corridors full of trash cans and current working equipment. We had two guides and a security guard, and the information was interesting indeed, but there were few places to explore that felt really “hidden” and just like a conference in a couple of closed-off places.

Baker Street Station hidden tour - platforms, and abandoned tunnels.

I did revisit a couple of the publicly-accessible areas after the tour was over to try and get a decent photograph, and then headed off towards Euston to visit a couple of museums belonging to the University College London (UCL), both of which I’ve wanted to see for a while now. However, the last few times I’ve been in town either one or the other was closed – or their opening times did not fit the plans. Today was the day. I first went to the Petrie Museum of Egyptian and Sudanese Archaeology. Though it is a tiny museum, it holds one of the largest archaeological collections in the world, with around 80,000 items.

The core of the collection was donated by writer Amelia Edwards (1831 – 1892), the “godmother of Egyptology”. Edwards toured Egypt in 1873 and 1874, and later, in 1882, she co-founded the Egypt Exploration Fund (now the Egypt Exploration Society), which aimed to support and promote Egyptian cultural heritage. Upon her death, all her Egyptian artefacts, and a hefty sum of money, were donated to the University.

I reached the museum and asked if I could snoop around. I was told no, but I was welcome to visit. Okay, I guess. No harm done. While I love old museums, this one feels way too crammed (and not even in the fascinating way the Sir John Soane’s Museum does). The space is small, so most objects are lounged together in large cases, some with their original labels from the Victorian times, even. It is run by volunteers and possibly all that they custody is in display, which explains why everything is so full.

Exhibits at Petri Museum - Egyptian archaeological artefacts: a dress, animal and human statuettes, painted tiles.

Afterwards, I headed to the Grant Museum of Zoology and Comparative Anatomy, also part of the UCL. Established in 1828 by Robert Edmond Grant, it is one of the oldest natural history collections in the country, originally designed as a teaching collection. It comprises 100,000 specimens in total. There are incredible things on display here. Something that drew my attention was that there were a couple of tutoring sessions going on at the museum… about how to draw creatures and specimens. I did not eavesdrop, but what I overheard was fascinating…

A general view of the Grant Museum of zoology. There are skeletons looking down from the second floor...

One of the highlights is the so-called Micrarium – almost 2,323 old microscope slides (a tiny fraction of the complete collection, which goes up to 20,000), designed in 2013. There is also a collection of invertebrate glass models that blew my mind away, fossils, skeletons and a wall full of disassembled mouse bones. The museum most infamous exhibit is a jar of moles (Talpa europaea), which hosts 18 of these tiny mammals, male and female, preserved in formaldehyde. When I asked why it was so popular, the volunteer explained that the jar was never catalogued and that it predates any worker of the museum – so no one knows where it came from, and what was it going to be used for. It might have been assembled for a zoology class, or maybe a researcher collected the critters. In any case, there is no record of it, the jar just… exists.

Grant museum of Zoology exhibits: a cocrodile skull, an old microscope slide, giant deer antlers, glass models of anemone and squid, and the (in)famous jar of moles.

Had I not received the email concerning security queue issues in London Stansted, I would have at that point headed for the Monument to the Great Fire of London. However, I have trust issues, so I decided to head to the airport instead. I took the underground to Liverpool Street, and was at the airport around four hours in advance instead of my usual two.

Stansted was packed. There was nowhere to sit, and I’m not talking about actual seats. It was almost impossible to find even a spot on the floor to plop down. I fortunately found a corner where I could stay for about an hour before things started clearing out. I felt a bit miffed because while security had taken a bit longer than usual, it was not the chaos I had feared, so I felt I had wasted my afternoon in London. However, better safe than sorry.

When finally my gate was called, I tried to get to sit down somewhere, but Ryanair made the decision to have the check point just at the end of the stairs, and I found myself stuck in the queue. Most of the waiting was done after check in, and the land crew person opened a cordoned thing to push us through so I ended up – somehow – in front of most of the Priority Queue. That meant I entered the aircraft much earlier than I normally would have. I made the trip back encased between two very tall people who… had trouble squeezing into the seats.

Once I landed, I beat most of my plane to passport control. It was cold when I stepped out and once in the car, the parking lot barrier didn’t want to let me through, and it took several tries to get out. Fortunately, going back and forth repeatedly solved the issue, and I did not have to go find a warden to get it done.

All in all, the trip was a success. I really wish I had stayed a day longer, I would have squeezed many other things in. However, now that my early-morning plane is back, and I have an ETA, I might feel compelled to fly to the UK a couple further times before London introduces a tourist tax. Maybe in summer if the Crystal Palace Trust has finished their renovations of the dinosaurs, or summer for the Jurassic Coast… Or, you know, the minute both the Natural History Museum’s Jurassic Oceans: Monsters of the Deep and the British Museum’s Bayeux Tapestry exhibitions are open.

10th December 2025: Oxford, trains and back to London {United Kingdom, December 2025}

Posted on 9 May 2026 by JBinnacle

I got up, used the kettle in the room to prepare a quick coffee… and one look at the radiator told me how it worked. I must have been much more tired than I realised the night before… I left my luggage at reception and went back to the streets of Oxford. I basically retraced my route from the previous evening in daylight.

I started off at the Claredon Building, the Bodleian Library and the Bridge of Sighs. Beyond that, I got back to the Radcliffe Camera, University Church of St Mary the Virgin, and the Old Bank Hotel. Down High Street, I walked by All Souls College, the Examination Schools, the Queen’s College, all the way down to Magdalen College.

Up the street again, I reached the Covered Market and turned at Carfax Tower, to St Aldates Church and Christ Church College. Though visiting it was my goal for the morning, I still had some time before the College opened. Thus, I decided to go to Costa Coffee for a proper breakfast, where I had a vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin.

I then headed back to Christ Church College. As it is the largest and most important structure – and also the one that holds the cathedral – it was the college I thought I needed to visit. The visitors’ centre is located in Christ Church Meadow, a floodable grassland open to the public during the day.

I purchased a self-guided visit ticket and went on to explore. Christ Church College (officially The Dean and Chapter of the Cathedral Church of Christ in Oxford of the Foundation of King Henry the Eighth) was founded in 1531 by King Henry VIII, as expected by the name. It was later refounded in 1532, and again in 1546. The second refoundation had a lot to do with the reorganisation of the Church of England, and since then it has been the home of Oxford’s cathedral. Christ Church is a huge complex, mostly in a stunning Gothic and Neo Gothic styles (with some Baroque and Neoclassical add-ons), and the audio guide kept insisting that one should not peer through the windows. Though I think it would have been doable to take the tour the previous day, the cathedral had been closed, and I wanted to see that.

I don’t really think I was ready for how grandiose – I can’t find any other word for it – the whole compound was. The Great Hall caught me by absolute surprise. The staircase which accesses it is magnificent, and the hall is just fascinating. There are fireplaces, pictures of Deans and Professors, long wooden tables and lead windows with different motifs, the most important one being the Alice in Wonderland Window.

The visit begins at Meadow Quad, a 19th-century Gothic Revival building, designed by TN Deane. The particular style is known as Venetian Gothic. During the Victorian period there were several efforts to redefine the significance of Classical ruins and medieval structures, along with a scorn of Baroque. In a typical with-me-or-against-me fashion, two thought currents emerged. On the one hand, Frenchman Eugène Viollet-Le-Duc, who wanted to be more Gothic than the Medievals themselves. His idea was to perfect Gothic buildings using more modern materials and techniques, often making up structures and even whole buildings. Amongst his notable efforts are the restoration of Notre Dame in Paris and the city of Carcassonne (and by his followers, the Olite castle).

On the other hand, Englishman John Ruskin claimed that construction had a life cycle and should be born (be built), then live (be used) and die (collapse). Being a Romantic in the artistic sense of the word, he also idealised Gothic, and his theories inspired more than one Gothic Revival attempt, but he considered them plagiarism and “faux”. Ruskin studied in Oxford, and some of the Neo Gothic buildings there tried to recreate his idealised visions of Gothic – Meadow Quad is one of them (the museum of natural history is another). While Ruskin originally (and vehemently) opposed restoration, to the point that at some point he wrote that it “shattered his soul”, by the end of his life he acknowledged that maybe it was not such a bad idea. Though this is of course a very summarised version of both theories, if I have to take a stand, I’m on Viollet-Le-Duc’s side.

Outer façade of Christ Church College, Oxford, towards the end of the meadow.

The first visit inside the college is Bodley Tower, which features a the monumental Hall Staircase, with an incredibly vaulted ceiling of Medieval design but carved in 17^th century. It leads to the Great Hall, the Renaissance mesh room where students and teachers share their meals on long wooden tables (I’ve also learnt that during summer holidays Christ Church turns the students’ rooms into a B&B and you can have breakfast there. Yes, I’m having thoughts). Features of the room include the two chimneys, painted portraits, and stained glass windows.

There is a particularly famous window, called Alice’s window, which honours a former student of the college, one Charles Dodgson, who is more famous than you think. Dodgson’s pen name was Lewis Carroll, and Alice is the one who went to Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. Carrol was born in 1832, and throughout his life he became a writer, photographer and mathematician. He was tall but scrawny, deaf in one ear, had weak lungs and suffered from a stammer. In 1851, he enrolled to study in Oxford’s Christ Church, where he would go on to work for the rest of his life. It is said, especially in this college, that the main character from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) and its sequel Through the Looking-Glass (1871) was based on the Dean’s daughter, Alice Liddell. Another apocryphal story is that the Dodo that appears in the fist book is based on himself – apparently his stammer made it difficult for him to pronounce his own surname, Dodgson, so he referred to himself as a Dodo. It’s difficult to know if this was true…

Main Staircase and Main Hall, where food is served.

Leaving behind the tower, I ventured onto the main yard of the college, Tom Quad (officially the Great Quadrangle), home of the resident pet ducks Tom and Peck. It was originally designed to be a cloister, but the arcade was never finished. In the middle of the quad stood a firefighting water reservoir, now substituted by a decorative fountain with a flying Mercury in bronze. The street and the college are connected by a gate on top of which stands the bell tower known as Tom Tower, whose bell is known as Great Tom. Tom Tower was designed by Christopher Wren around 1680, and Great Tom rang for the first time in 1684. Today, it rings 101 times at 21:00 Oxford time, which is 21:05 GMT, signalling the original curfew time.

The other two quadrants open to visitors are Peck Quad and Canterbury Quad. The former is overlooked by the New Library built in the 18^th century in the Renaissance style. The latter gives way to the Picture Gallery. Possibly though, the most impressive element in the complex is Christ Church Cathedral or Cathedral Church of Christ. The building was erected towards the end of the 12th century, but the interior was redesigned, in the Neo Gothic style by Sir George Gilbert Scott.

Quadrants at Christ Church College, Oxford. One is Gothic, the other is Baroque.

The cathedral was re-signified within the context of Henry VIII’s Reformation, which was sparked when the king wanted to have his first (out of six of them) marriage annulled. The original wife, Catherine of Aragon (Catalina de Aragón, daughter of Spain’s Catholic Monarchs) had already married Henry’s older brother, Arthur, who died soon after. Seven years later, she was wedded to Henry VIII, soon after his ascent to the throne, and although she become pregnant six times, only one child, future Queen Mary I, survived past infancy. In order to marry his brother’s widow, Henry needed a special dispensation from the Pope.

However, he was unhappy that Catherine had only reared one daughter, so by the time she was too old to have more children, he sought a personal favour from the Pope – the annulment of the marriage. He claimed to have realised that according to the Bible, said marriage was wrong and the lack of sons was a divine sign. It did not help that by this time, he had fallen in love (or in lust) with Anne Boleyn. The Pope rejected the request, which eventually yielded to Henry VIII’s breaking out with the Catholic Church and creating the Church of England. Henry banished Catherine, and married Anne Boleyn, who later ended up beheaded, accused of “treason” (read: infidelity), while Henry married again – four times.

Christ Church Cathedral was originally Catholic, built in the Norman (Romanesque) style during the 11^th and 12^th centuries. After its conversion to the Anglican rite, the interior of the church was redesigned. It has large stained glass windows and an amazing Neo Gothic ceiling. During the audio guide explanation there was a salute from the Dean, Sarah Foot, welcomed visitors “of any faith, or none” into the cathedral. As the building had originally been designed as an Augustinian monastery during the Catholic period, it features a cloister and a chapter house, the last visitable elements in Christ Church. I turned back in the multimedia guide, bought a trinket at the gift shop, and left the premises.

Interior of the very gothic Christ Church cathedral.

Afterwards, I returned to the hotel to pick up my luggage and head to the station taking a small detour to see the outside of Oxford Castle and Prison and the Castle Mound. There’s no free exploring the castle, you must book a guided tour, so I had decided against it, heading back towards London instead. I wanted to leave on the 12:34 train, which gave me enough time to drop the luggage in my London room, and head out again. Unfortunately, the train was delayed by a “disruptive passenger” and reached Oxford 20 minutes late. I had a booking for the London Museum of Natural History, but I could get another one to guarantee entry if there was a queue, half an hour after the original.

I did not see everything that you can see in Oxford. However, I’ve learnt that day trips are cheaper, because a single and a return ticket have the same price. I did not get to see anything related to JRR Tolkien, nor the Headington Shark, so I might have to eventually come back. I do not regret my planning though, because I had priorities. Off to London I rode, munching on salt-and-vinegar crisps.

I reached Paddington, then changed to the underground to reach Victoria Station. I hate Victoria. I hate it almost as much as I hate Shinjuku Station. It’s bustling and chaotic and I never get my exit right. It was particularly crowded as they had a Christmas installation – a huge plastic “Christmas bauble” which people could enter to have their picture taken. I finally got my bearings and reached the hotel, a few minutes away. Though it was called the Grapevine Hotel, check-in was next door, in the Sheriff Hotel. I had booked a single en-suite with private toilet, and when I got to my second-floor room I found the faucet, the shower, the bed, and a note reading “the toilet is on the first floor”. As in… a whole floor down there was a toilet with a sign reading “Room 15 toilet”. It was incredible surreal, and I had a good laugh about it!

I headed back to Victoria Station (have I mentioned I really hate Victoria?), hopped onto the Tube, and reached South Kensington. It was not too crowded and I could take the tunnel towards London’s Natural History Museum. They have recently reopened their garden, after revamping the area and adding a bunch of details and attractions. Renamed Evolution Garden, its main feature – due to sheer size alone – is Fern the Diplodocus (Diplodocus carnegii). The life-sized specimen is made in bronze and based on Dippy, the Carnegy cast. Before Dippy went on tour in 2021 (again), each bone was scanned so further copies could be made. The museum wanted a new specimen in a lifelike pose and no external support, that would be placed outside, no less. That was why it was decided to build the new display in bronze. However, the resulting skeleton would be too heavy, so they needed to hollow the bones out and keep the skeleton up using internal wiring. The result is a 25-metre long, self-supporting giant that gently sways with wind and withstands both heat and rain.

It almost dwarfs the smaller Hypsilophodon, first discovered in the Isle of Wight – a typical “English dinosaur”. The species lived in the Early Cretaceous, and it was first discovered in 1849, and for a couple of decades it was thought to be a young Iguanodon, until Thomas Henry Huxely proved otherwise. The new species was officially named Hypsilophodon foxii in 1869. It was bipedal, had a beak and teeth, and it is thought to have been a natural runner. It measured up to 2 metres in length, weighed around 20 kilograms.

Outside garden if the Natural Science Museum London showing the diplodocus and Hypsilophodon fossil replicas.

The Garden of Evolution has vegetation in order of appearance – from ferns to other early plants to flowering plants and grasses as one walks through the garden and “advances” in time. There are more small sculptures and art pieces, rocks and ponds, all of them dedicated to recreate evolution and at the same time provide a little nature to the heart of London.

I walked into the building, and my bag was flagged for inspection… ish. It’s just big enough to hold my camera and my wallet, and when the security guard saw that it flopped – the camera was already around my neck – he waved me through. My first stop was the gift shop – there were two things I wanted so I got that out of the way. I was aiming for two Christmas ornaments, but I got a Fern commemorative coin too.

I headed to the dinosaur area. One museum’s traditions is dressing their T. Rex animatronic in a humongous Christmas jumper every year – this year it featured ammonite, theropod prints, stars and a T. Rex skull. It was hilarious. I almost bought myself the human-design version after seeing it.

T Rex animatronic dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater with T Rex skulls.

I then went to the birds area to find the museum’s dodo, because after Oxford, everything dodo had to be checked out, of course. Later, I found my way to Sophie, the most complete stegosaurus skeleton. Afterwards, I made my way up because in June, the Museum unveiled a new species, a small herbivore named Enigmacursor mollyborthwickae from the Morrison Formation in the US. It is considered the holotype for the species (the only specimen known, even). Enigmacursor means “mysterious runner” and mollyborthwickae references Molly Lowell Borthwick – she and her husband donated a small fortune so the museum could acquire the unique skeleton, filed NHMUK PV R 39000. It was named in 2025 by Professors Susannah Maidment and Paul Barrett, and put on display. I was very excited to see it for the first time.

Enigmacursor mollyborthwickae, the one and only skeleton of this small theropod dinosaur.

I wandered through other spaces of the museum, including seeing the Treasures in the Cadogan gallery, where the Archaeopteryx is kept, the mineral gallery and The Vault, with all the gems and precious minerals. I also popped into the newly-renovated Hall of Mammals. I left the museum a bit before closing and was a tad disappointed that I could not cross the gardens, as they had closed an hour before the museum itself. I had a couple of hours before the musical, which did not feel like much to go to the centre and snoop around something “Christmassy”. So I headed back towards Victoria, and stayed a little at the bauble decoration, which now had a few ballet dancers inside – characterised as the Nutcracker, but to the music of Swan Lake.

Natural History Museum London exhibits: Maiasaurus skeleton, mammal hall, rhino skeleton, dodo skeleton, gold ore in the shape of a dragon.

Hintze Hall and Hope the blue whale of the Natural History Museum London from the entrance.

At 18:30 I strolled to Apollo Victoria Theatre. After watching the Spanish version and the first film, it felt right to go back to watch the original Wicked musical once more.

The theatre was displaying a couple of dresses and a sculpture of Chistery the flying monkey. I checked out the upper bar for a change, but everything was packed, so as soon as the sitting area opened, I went to find my seat. Since I was amongst the first people inside, I could take a few decent pictures of the stage. The theatre was rather empty in comparison to what I was expecting, but then I realised that it was the middle of the week, and I had only been to the Apollo Victoria at weekends before. I had booked a seat next to the aisle on row S, and honestly it was a perfect view – the person in front of me was also short, which was fantastic.

Dresses, figures and stage from Wicked in London.

The three main characters were played by Emma Kingston as Elphaba, Zizi Strallen as Glinda and Carl Man as Fiyero. I think Kingston has become my favourite Elphaba to date. Points to Man for keeping the British Ts during his solos, too. However, he did not feel as powerful a character as 2022’s Ryan Reid. I saw a few of Jeff Goldblum’s mannerism on the Wizard (Michael Matus), which… honestly do not work if you’re not Goldblum. Though the cast claims that they have not been influenced by the film, there are times that it just… slips in. Not in a bad way, but… it’s there. I really enjoyed it though, much more than any of the other versions. It feels natural – and not as long as the film(s).

The Cast of London's Wicked after the show.

After the play was over, I stopped by the station so I could buy some dinner (and cut some walking in the cold), and I guess I was hungry because I had all but skipped lunch. Once back at the hotel, I checked in for my flight, and also received an email stating that there was a bit of a chaos at London Stansted airport due to operational issues. That made me decide to head to the airport a couple of hours before I would usually do the following afternoon. It meant sacrificing one of the stops, but it would have sucked to get stuck there due to a long security line. And it’s London. It’s not like I’m not planning to go back already.

The truth is that the hotel had been cheap, and it ended up being quite uncomfortable. On top of the toilet issue, there were no blinds on the window, and it was humid. At least, heating worked, I guess. I did not sleep much, but that gave me time to try and plan my following morning.

9th December 2025: Exploring Oxford {United Kingdom, December 2025}

Posted on 3 May 2026 by JBinnacle

Nothing ever seems to go right before 4:30 in the morning, right? It turned out that when I reached my usual parking lot at the airport, I had mistakenly booked for another one! Ho boy that was stressful for a few minutes! Fortunately, I could reach the correct parking lot within five more minutes, and found a good spot to drop off the car. Then I did not have to wait for the bus, but could directly walk into the terminal. I might change my usual parking lot to this one, honestly. I like that you can walk and not depend on the bus. The downside is that if you get in or out late, you have to look for one of the 24-hour accesses to the terminal, and those are far and few so you end up walking back and forth a bit.

This whole mishap put me 20 minutes behind schedule, and of course I got a secondary screening at security – random drug / explosive test. Also, can airports decide on policies? Or at least, you know… could the airport agree with itself? Shoes on, shoes off, liquids in, liquids out… In Madrid, it seems to depend on the terminal – and the equipment I guess, if I am being rational. But I really did not feel like waiting for the chemical test to show a negative result.

Passport control went smoothly. When I sat at the boarding gate, I received a reminder that I had to check in with some administrative nonsense (basically proving that I’m still alive) – fun thing to do at 5:00. But that was a fast thing, and soon we had boarded. I had an aisle seat, not exit row. I dozed for most of the flight. Once at London Stansted, getting out took a bit of time because I was really back in the plane, but since I know that airport pretty well, I was able to outrun most of the crowd and barely had to wait at immigration. No one asked about the ETA, but it’s supposed to be linked to the passport, so I guess the system recognises it.

Once in the United Kingdom, I made my customary stop at Costa Coffee, then hopped onto the Stansted Express to get to central London. I changed into the underground, reached Paddington Station… and missed my train by literally a minute, because I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to access the platform! It turns out that Paddington has only one entry point in the middle of all the platforms, but several points of exit. The next train was only 30 minutes later so I just hung around the station for that time.

The first London Paddington station was designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel and opened in 1854. The original train shed features a glazed roof and wrought iron arches. There is a side shopping centre with a Paddington Bear shop, since the character was named after the area. Since Michaek Bond published the first book in 1958, this Peruvian spectacled bear has become a staple of British children’s literature – and of course, someone managed to heavily cash on that.

Once the train was announced, I got on, and roughly at 11:00, I was finally in the historical centre of Oxford, with the plan to visit the four museums that the local university created to showcase its collections. Since my hotel was on the way, I dropped my luggage off there, and headed out to the first stop – the Oxford University Museum of Natural History, a place that I had wanted to visit when I was a child, just like the Oceanographic Museum of Monaco. To get there, I walked by St Mary Magdalen, an Anglican church in Gothic and Gothic Revival styles, and the Martyrs’ Memorial, designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott to commemorate the burning at the stake of Protestant Bishops Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley and Archbishop Thomas Cranmer.

The Oxford University Museum of Natural History was built between 1855 and 1860, and gathered all the science collections that the university had amassed in different colleges and the Ashmolean Museum, with items that can be traced back to the Tradecant Collection from the 1600. The building itself was mainly designed by Irish architect Benjamin Woodward in a stunning Neo Gothic style. It was originally conceived as both museum and research centre, but as the collection grew, most of the research departments – except entomology – left to newer spaces. Once inside, the museum resembles a cloister, with a central court divided in five aisles by iron pillars that support the glass ceiling, decorated with wrought leaves to evoke trees and plants. Both floors have stone columns supporting pointed arches, and each one is representative of a different British stone, as if it were a research core.

Today, the museum has custody of seven million artefacts, divided in three main collections – Earth (comprising palaeontology and minerals), Life (covering zoology and entomology) and Archive (out of mere mortals’ reach). There are a few incredibly rare and valuable items in either collection. One of them is the only soft tissue of a dodo, an extinct bird.

The dodo (Raphus cucullatus) was a flightless bird from the African island of Mauritius that disappeared in 1662. It was a roundish bird that could measure up to 75 centimetres, and when it was “discovered” in 1598, it had no fear of humans. That made it a very easy prey, which led to its annihilation in just 64 years. Nowadays, it has become a symbol of anthropic extinction, but it used to be just known due to its role in the book Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, one of the most important books in Victorian literature. Oxford is very proud that the book was written there.

Other elements in the zoology collection are skeletons of elephants and other mammals – the skeleton parade – and dozens of taxidermied birds. The dodo obviously belonged to the bird group, but the preserved tissue is too fragile to be displayed by now. The entomology collection is also impressive, but I’m a bit squirmy about those.

Another item in the Life collection is the so-called Red Lady of Paviland, a partial human skeleton dating back from the Upper Palaeolithic period. The bones were found along with shell beads and carved ivory in a cave known for mammoth remains. They were covered in red ochre, and were originally identified as belonging to a woman from the Roman period (hence the name). They turned out to be from a young man who could have lived as long as as 34,000 years ago, making them the oldest human remains in the United Kingdom, and one of the most ancient ceremonial burials in Europe.

Oxford Museum of Natural History exhibits: reddish human bones from the Red Lady (who turned out to be a man), reconstructed dodo, printouts from the dodo remains the miseum has, a collection of skeletons.

Besides local minerals, the Earth collection hosts over 200 rocks from outer space. One of them is the Nantan meteorite – 4.5 billion years old, and on display for you to touch. And as with every natural history museum, highlights are fossils and, of course, their reproductions. On display there are casts of a Tyrannosaur (Stan), one of the Bernissart iguanodons, an edmontosaur… The ground floor hosts plesiosaurs, ichthyosaurs, dunkleosteus… and a “Wall of Trilobites” with literally dozens of them.

However, the key items in the collections is none of the almost-complete skeletons or fossils on display or archived, but a few dislodged pieces – a leg, a piece of spine and half a jaw. These belong to the species Megalosaurus bucklandii, named by Willian Buckland in 1824 as the holotype of a long-gone massive creature. Megalosaurus was the first dinosaur ever described and named, and it would later get its “interpretation” at London’s Crystal Palace. It was not an accurate one, but it kicked off the first “dinomania” in the Victorian times. Normally, only a cast of the jaw is displayed, but the temporary exhibition Breaking Ground, about the history of palaeontology, had brought them out to be enjoyed by yours truly… I mean everyone. Another fantastic item in this exhibition was an ichthyosaur fossil found by Mary Anning herself – one with remains of its last supper still in its stomach.

As I entered the museum, the first thing I saw were two preserved bears (one of them has since been retired), and the skeleton replicas of iguanodon and tyrannosaur. To the right, the marine reptiles that wrote the history of palaeontology in the UK, and some other dinosaur replicas (edmontosaur, triceratops…). I wanted everything in the gift shop, of course. I had planned to walk the museum in order, but I was unable to, because as soon as I found the stairs, I trotted up to the first floor to find the temporary exhibition Breaking Ground.

Oxford Museum of Natural History building from the outside, and exhibits: dinosaurs and other fossils.

I ran into a couple of school visits, and at some point I was almost ran over by an overeager tween. One of his classmates tried to excuse him saying “apologies, he’s a bit hyper”. I could understand… I only hide it better, but this was one of those other places that had been in my inner child’s bucket list forever and a day. I was extremely happy to be there, and I’m sure I stayed way longer than normal people do. Selfies with megalosaurus were taken.

Megalosaurus was a Middle Jurassic theropod carnivore which has only been found in the Oxfordshire area (Taynton Limestone Formation). The first remains known to science have been lost, but were described and illustrated at the time. There was a tooth recovered in 1699, and a partial femur. A new batch of bones were discovered in 1815, and they were acquired by Willian Buckland, a geology professor in the University of Oxford. He named the creature “megalosaurus” (large lizard) in 1822, and officially presented his findings in 1824, with illustrations by his wife Mary Ann Mantell. Though Sir Richard Owen would not coin the term “Dinosauria” until 1842, megalosaurus was the first non-avian dinosaur to be formally described and named (though Buckland’s reconstructions would not be accurate in the least). The species would eventually receive the binomial name Megalosaurus bucklandii to honour Buckland.

Oxford Museum of Natural History exhibits: pieces of the original megalosaurus fossil.

I went through the exhibition, and emerged on the other side, where I saw the mineral and gem gallery, and what they show you about the dodo – a 3D printed skull and some pictures. Back on the ground floor, I looked at the statues, the skeleton parade, the evolution area… Lots and lots of items.

Towards the back, the Oxford University Museum of Natural History is connected to the Pitt Rivers Museum, the university’s collection of archaeology and anthropology. It was founded in 1884 when private collector August Pitt River exchanged his collection for a post as permanent lecturer in anthropology in the university. The premises reminded me a little of the Sir John Soane’s Museum (but way larger), there was so much stuff to see that my brain could not process everything.

Despite the information clutter, I was extremely impressed, especially by the self-awareness of the museum itself. Panels at the entrance explain the relation between colonialism and the collection itself. Apparently, the museum is carrying out a very serious attempt to get in touch with the cultures that spanned a good part of the items in display in order to return them, amend racist descriptions, remove them from view or challenge them. A notable example was its removal of a collection of shrunken heads, tsantsa, from the Shuar culture. Several cases pointed out how historical labels were offensive (outright calling the cultures inferior or savage) and asked how the viewer would feel if their relatives’ remains were exhibited in museums. I think it made me successfully uncomfortable.

Pitt Rivers museum general view.

However, the coolest thing happened on the third floor, when a random volunteer asked me if I knew what a prehistoric tool was. It was in the middle of a case of hand axes. I owned up that I had no idea, so he explained that it was the tool used to make all the other tools, a stone hammer – which made it the oldest item in the whole museum.

There were still things to do and see, and I had time. I had a second run around the Natural History Museum, just because I could, then I headed towards the History of Science Museum. It is one of the oldest museums in the world that was originally built as such. Unfortunately, most of it was closed due to conservation works. However, the lower floor hosts the highlights, one of them being a small blackboard which feature some equations scribbled in 1931 by no other than visiting professor Albert Einstein. Another of the items is the original penicillin culture that was applied to human clinical trials in 1941 by Howard Florey after Alexander Fleming discovered its antibiotic properties. And probably less dramatic, but utterly impressive, is a 1795 drawing of the moon by John Russell, which looks better than any photography I have ever been able to take.

Einstein's blackboard at the History of Science Museum.

I ran into a Christmas market – Christmas in Oxford, which I decided I would visit later on, and headed out to the last of the four museums, the Ashmolean Museum of art and archaeology. Its collections were started as far back as 1683. It is considered Britain’s first public museum, and hosts works spanning half a million years of human history.

On the way, I stopped to buy a drink at a supermarket, and I guess I needed it, because it was gone in… three minutes. I had been getting cramps on my toes, which is usually due to an electrolyte imbalance, so I bought a juice-like thing I like.

The Ashmolean Museum ended up being much larger than either of the other museums, outright huge. It felt similar to Victoria and Albert institution, with a lot of different collections from varying origins. It is much more modern-feeling than the other three, especially since a renovation in 2009.

On the ground floor I found Ancient Egypt – I walked past Roman and Greek sculpture first – with a whole sarcophagus complete with mummy case, and even a small temple. I then proceeded to Greece and Cyprus. I came across a staircase and followed it to the area of Conservation, Textiles, Writing, Money and History – Present of the museum, which includes a cabinet of curiosities hosting some of the oldest pieces in the institution, along some which are just… interesting. One of them is an iron lantern from 1605, which is said (probably an urban legend though) to have been used by Guy Fawkes. Fawkes has historically been considered the head of the Gunpowder Plot, in which a number of English Catholics tried to blow up the English Parliament and assassinate King James VI by digging a tunnel underneath and filling it up with barrels of gunpowder. He would have used this lantern inside the dug-up tunnels.

Ashmolean Museum Exhibits -Greek god, vaguely human form, griffon, Hindu deity.

Ashmolean Museum Exhibits - Small Egyptian temple, Sobek the crocodile god, Arabian camel from a tomb, copies of Roman sculptures.

I popped into the shop, where I saw that the restaurant and terrace was open and they were serving “Festive Afternoon Tea”. I had not been able to book it for the Natural History Museum in London, but maybe I could get away with it here. I decided to try my luck, so I climbed to the fourth floor, where the Rooftop Restaurant is. I caused a bit of a ruckus since I popped in without a reservation and solo, but once the waiters got approval, everything went smoothly. I got a seat next to the window and ordered. Afternoon tea consisted on sandwiches, scones and sweets along with a pot of loose-leaf tea.

The mini-sandwiches were: Cucumber and dill cream cheese; Brie and cranberry shallot shell, shallot purée; Roast turkey, sage emulsion, cranberry sauce, rocket; Smoked salmon, dill and horseradish crème fraîche. The scones were homemade, not plain but with cranberry and mixed spice, accompanied by English clotted cream, and Tiptree jam; they were absolutely mind-blowing.

As for sweets, I got Mini Baileys mousse, Tia Maria syrup; a Father-Christmas-shaped gingerbread biscuit; a lovely Mince Pie; and Mini vanilla cheesecake, candied clementine segment. The sweets were extremely so and I did not finish all of them, particularly the mousse.

It was hard to decide which tea I wanted. In the end I went for the in-house Ashmolean Tea, mixed specifically for the museum by local business Team Tea: a malty second flush Assam, combined with single estate Darjeeling and Black Gunpowder from China. They claim that the “Gunpowder” is a call back to the lantern. It was a great choice, and required no sugar or milk – though I drank the milk after all the sweets.

Afternoon tea, on a three-storied tray, along with a cuppa.

Belly full (maybe a bit too full), I went back down to the second floor, where I visited China and Japan, and European and English art rooms, including jewellery. On the first floor I found the Mediterranean World, Islam and Near East, and India. Back on the ground floor there was more China, Rome, and a collection of Classical casts I had missed before. I missed a bit of the collection, displayed at the third floor, because there is no staircase access there – or I did not find those stairs. I left about ten minutes before closing time.

In front of the Ashmolean Museum stands the beautiful Randolph Hotel Oxford, a Hilton property that is way out of my league, but I can admire. Down Broad Street there were tons of small cafés and shops – collectibles, memorabilia, books… It started drizzling a little just as I walked by one of the largest bookshops, so it was a great idea to pop in and snoop. here are two writers that greatly define Oxford’s personality, and both had their dedicated areas – Lewis Carrol and JRR Tolkien, author of The Lord of the Rings, and father of the modern high fantasy genre, I guess. I wanted everything, but I was limited by luggage size. Good thing I can be reasonable at times. But only at times… T

The drizzle cleared, and I was quite at the centre of Oxford. I explored the Christmas in Oxford market, and then the Claredon Building and courtyard, the Bodleian Library and the Bridge of Sighs. I checked whether I could get a ticket for the tours happening the following day, but they were sold out. It was a pity, but I could live with that – there were plenty of things to do.

The Clarendon Building is a Neoclassical structure, originally destined to be the University Press under the design of William Townesend. Today, it is part of the library, founded in 1602 by Sir Thomas Bodley, and it hosts 13 million items in print. Besides the Clarendon, the library is hosted in a number of buildings – I was snooping around the 15th century Duke Humfrey’s Library and the Radcliffe Camera (from the Latin “chamber”, not because there is any kind of camera around). The Bridge of Sighs is officially called Hetford Bridge. It is a sky walk between the new and old wards of Hetford College, actually a relatively new construction, dating from 1914.

I walked past the Radcliffe Camera and the Gothic University Church of St Mary the Virgin. I strolled into High Street with another of the high-class lodgings – the Old Bank Hotel. The sun had already set and it looked – and felt – like it was the middle of the night, but it was not even 17:30, as I had just left the Ashmolean Museum right before closing time at 17:00.

Oxford at night - Library, Bridge of Sighs, Radcliff Camera, Colleges.

I went all the way towards the end of High Street to see the colleges and other university and religious buildings. It’s difficult to actually explain the roles that Colleges have in Oxford. They are technically “residential colleges”, and become both housing and teaching institutions. All university students are members of one of the 36 colleges. The University describes them as “academic communities where students have their tutorials”. The colleges offer courses, and the students combine courses (year or semester-long subjects) until they lead to a degree. Classes are organised by the colleges, and the preferred teaching method is the aforementioned tutorial, a small group of people (one to four) discussing a topic of academic nature, usually related to the week’s work. Examinations and important lectures are conducted by the University as a whole.

The first building I came across along High Street was All Souls College (officially The College of All Souls of the Faithful Departed, of Oxford), established in 1438. From that corner, I saw one historical building after the other. All the students take the exams at the end of term in the Examination Schools, which also serves for lectures. It was erected between 1876 and 1882. A bit further down the road I saw the Queen’s College, which dates back to 1341, and it’s named after Queen Consort Philippa of Hainault, wife and political advisor to Edward III. I finally spotted Magdalen College, founded in 1458 and one of the most important colleges in town, with beautiful Gothic and Neo Gothic architecture.

I backtracked towards the other end of High Street, walked past All Saints’ Church, Lincoln College Library, and found the Covered Market. The structure, designed by John Gwynn, has been in use since it opened in 1774. It has permanent stalls and wooden beams that give it a church-like vaulted ceiling, along with a cast iron ceiling. Most of the shops were closed though, and the market was almost empty.

Covered market, a wooden structure.

I reached Carfax Tower, or St Martin’s Tower. It used to belong to a long-gone church built in the 12th century, and technically no building in Oxford may be higher than it. From there, I turned into St Aldate’s street, where the Town Hall stands. Unfortunately, it was under renovation, and mostly covered by construction scaffolding.

I reached Christ Church College, which I planned to visit the following morning. In front of it stands the small Medieval St Aldates Church. I went out a little further until I reached Folly Bridge and Bacon’s Tower over River Thames. The tower is not the original 12th century one, but a sort of revival castle erected in 1849 as a folly – basically a decorative building (hence the name).

I tried to drop by the Christmas Market again to buy a cute bauble, but it turned out that it closed at 18:00, and it was 18:30 by then. I headed back to the hotel and got my room. After a shower, I settled down to make my plans for the following day and watch some TV (without even having to surf for a channel in a language I understood…). I even managed to stay awake long enough not to give myself jet-lag.

However, for the life of me, I could not figure out how to operate the radiator in the room…

3rd December 2025: Josefov, the National Museum, and a Light Show {Prague, December 2025}

Posted on 17 April 2026 by JBinnacle

The city of Prague [Praha] has a rich history, and some of it is dark. Nevertheless, it cannot be ignored just because it is uncomfortable.

The day did not start well. After breakfast, I checked the plane tickets for the following afternoon’s return, and ran into the same issue as before – a message saying “you must check your bags”. Seriously, it felt like extortion, but I decided to let it go and pay up. That put us behind schedule – my mistake, I misunderstood the time we wanted to be out. On our way, a guy helped us out with directions, and offered money exchange. He was standing at the door of a legit shop. I did not trust him, but a second later my parent was talking to him! Remember my parent’s obsession with the bad exchange rate they claimed they had received from the bank? In the end, they got scammed out of a couple hundred bucks, as the guy gave him Russian roubles instead of Czech crowns. That was not a nice experience, and the day was still going to get a bit more difficult.

Since my parent just pocketed the money, we did not realise it was not valid until they tried to use it to pay for our first spot of the day in Josefov, the Old Jewish Quarter. Today the quarter is luxurious and mostly full of 20th century buildings, after it was almost completely demolished at the end of the 19th century. However, it may have started with the arrival of the first Jews in the 10th century, and reached its peak in the late 1500s. Before the reconstruction, it was composed of narrow streets and brick houses.

Amongst the few remaining historical buildings and structures there are a number of synagogues, the old town hall and the cemetery. Our first stop was Pinkas Synagogue Pinkasova synagoga. Built in the gothic style, it was completed in 1533, and during World War II, it became a repository of religious paraphernalia after the Nazis banned Jewish services. Today, it serves as a memorial to around 80,000 victims of the Holocaust. Their names are written on the walls, and there is a collection of drawings by children from between 1942 and 1944 – most of the children ended up murdered in Auschwitz. I had understood that the synagogue was working as a social centre, so I assumed the drawings were by local contemporary kids. When I realised what they were, it broke me inside. The wave of feelings – and tears – makes the whole experience a bit of a blur.

Interior of the Gothic Pinkas Synagogue, with the names of the victims of Holocaust written on the walls.

All the synagogues in the area are managed by the institution Jewish Museum in Prague Židovské muzeum v Praze, so there is one combined ticket for all of them. There was a small security check at each entryway, but the security guards were all extremely nice and kind. The Pinkas Synagogue was in the same controlled area as the Old Jewish Cemetery Starý židovský hřbitov.

The cemetery is one of the largest of its kind in Europe, and it was used between the 15th and 18th centuries. Since space was scarce, there are layers upon layers of burials, and the headstones often refer to someone who is buried in the lower levels. This scheme has allowed for older graves to remain through time, as the layers were added on top of the existing ones. Despite my general liking of old cemeteries, I found the place oppressive – probably because of the recent shock to my system.

Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague.

We then walked a couple of minutes to Klausen Synagogue Klausová synagoga. It is the second synagogue built in the same place, erected in 1884 in the Baroque style. It was the only one in that style spared by the urban renewal in the early 20th century. It struck me then that, even if I was aware of architectural styles in churches, I had never thought that synagogues in Europe would go through the same architectural trends. Then again, up until today, I don’t reckon I’d ever been into a synagogue that could still be used as such.

Interior of the Baroque Klausen Synagogue, Prague.

I later learnt that there is no actual “right” way to build a synagogue, and that any group of believers can erect one. This is usually done in the architectural style of the time and place. Synagogues have a raised platform or pulpit, the bimah [בּימה], from where the Torah is read. The Torah [תורה] comprises the first five books of the Hebrew Bible [Tanakh, תַּנַ״ךְ], and, usually in scroll form, is read daily. When not in use, the Torah is kept in a chest or cabinet called the Ark [Aron Kodesh, ארון קודש‎], which dictates how the whole building is erected, as attendees are supposed to face Jerusalem for prayers. Many synagogues have an eternal light or flame, always lit somewhere in front of the Torah Ark.

Next, we visited the Old New Synagogue Staronová synagoga, the oldest active synagogue in the Czech Republic [Česká Republika], and one of the earliest examples of Gothic in the city of Prague [Praha]. It was originally the New Synagogue to an Old Synagogue, but when the latter was demolished, and even newer ones were built, hence the confusing name. It felt a bit closed off and claustrophobic, as it was accessed by a long corridor and packed with three tourist groups.

Interior of the Old New Synagogue, Prague, showing the curtain that covers the sacred texts.

We got a bit lost on our way out, so I was able to catch a glimpse of a bit of an oddity – the Prague Metronome Pražský metronom, a giant instrument that… swings. It holds no other function than moving along with time, it does not even click like a normal metronome would. It’s officially named the Time Machine and it was erected by artist Vratislav Novák. I saw it on the other side of the Vltava River, across the Czech Bridge Čechův most.

We finally reached the Spanish Synagogue Španělská synagoga. Built in the 19^th century, it replaced the Old Synagogue, and its side, which used to be a hospital, is now the Museum. It was erected in a Moorish revival style, with two stories, several balconies and a lot of gold and golden. It hosts an exhibit about the history of Jews in the Czech Republic, but there is no tangible relation to Spain, the name seems to be a reference to the art style of Al-Andalus.

Golden interior of the Spanish Synagogue, Prague.

And for some reason (aside from him being Jewish, of course), there is a Statue of Franz Kafka Socha Franze Kafky standing next to the Spanish Synangogue. It is a bronze sculpture of the writer riding a hollow suit, based on the short story Description of a Struggle [Beschreibung eines Kampfes].

The last synagogue we visited was Maisel Synagogue Maiselova synagoga, currently a museum. It is Neo Gothic, after a previous building was destroyed. It has been restored recently, and hosts a very impressive display of menorah [מְנוֹרָה], a candelabrum with seven branches, symbol of Judaism since ancient times.

Gothic Maiselova Synagogue from the outside, Prague.

We set off then to try and find the nearby underground station, near the Jan Palach square and park Park u náměstí Jana Palacha. There are several buildings and views from the square. We did not stop for long there, and hopped onto the underground to get to Wenceslas Square Václavské nám. We had a bit of time before our lunch reservation, so we decided that the two-story souvenir shop at the corner was a perfect place to spend 20 minutes because it had heating. Afterwards, we walked down the square and crossed the Art Nouveau palace-turned-shopping-hub Lucerna Palace Pasáž Lucerna. Looking back, it could have been a cool place to explore with the idle time we had, but the pedestrian passage was not heated…

We finally got to the restaurant that my parent had wanted to try from the moment Prague [Praha] had been decided upon – Pork’s. As the name conveys, their menu is basically comprised of pork dishes, and reportedly they serve the best pork knuckle in town. The original restaurant, Pork’s Mostecká, is in Malá Strana, close to the Charles Bridge, and it was the one my parent had their heart set on… Unfortunately, it books out a month in advance. We had been able to find a spot in its sister restaurant Pork’s Vodičkova.

The place was full and bustling, but we had our table ready for us. We ordered two signatory dishes – pork knuckle with mustard, horseradish, crispy sauerkraut Vepřové koleno, hořčice, křen, křupavé zelí, a salad (Lettuce salad with grilled goat cheese, beetroot and marinated pear Listový salát s grilovaným kozím sýrem, řepou a marinovanou hruškou) and a weird potato thing I had seen and was extremely curious about – Potato pancake with sour cabbage, fried in pork fat from our knuckles (Bramborák s kysaným zelím smažený na výpeku z našich kolen), which turned out to be a sort of waffle sandwich (I loved it, because I’m weird like that). The knuckle was all right but I had to peel off some of the fat because it made the dish too heavy on the stomach. For dessert, we shared some apricot dumplings – Homemade fruit dumplings with cottage cheese, sugar and warm butter, Domácí ovocné knedlíky z tvarohového těsta, tvarohem a cukrem sypané, máslem přelité.

Pork knuckles portion with cabbage and mustard.

We left the restaurant around 15:00 and my parents, who were still a bit on the upset side, decided to go to the hotel, claiming they wanted a break before the light show at 19:30. Since my sibling was up to anything, I decided to head out to the main building of the National Museum Historická budova Národního muzea. We would not have time to do the whole thing, but at least we could wander for a couple of hours and snoop around.

The main or historical building was designed by architect Josef Schulz and erected between 1885 and 1891, when it was inaugurated. It is a magnificent structure in the Neo Renaissance style, grandiose and decorated with gold and frescoes. It feels like a palace, and honestly, it does not look like a museum at all. The building was damaged during the succeeding conflicts in the 20th century, so it ended up closing between 2011 and 2018 for extensive renovations. At the moment, it hosts four permanent exhibitions: the Hall of Minerals, Miracles of Evolution, Windows into Prehistory, and (Czech) History, though the latter seems to only cover from the Middle Ages to the first half of the 20^th century. Thus, I guess that it doubles as natural history and archaeology museum.

Prague National Museum building, huge constructiond ecorated with gold, white and marble.

We started at the Hall of Minerals, which is a traditional collection of minerals in vintage cases. The meteorite collection is pretty good, especially the moldavites. Moldavite vltavín is a mineral derived from a meteorite impact (a tektite), around 15 million years ago. It is a green gemstone, local to the area of Bohemia. It is not uncommon, but not widely available in the world (and unfortunately none was for sale in the gift shop).

We got to the prehistory ward, and it was really fun. As far as huge diversity goes, the exhibit was not impressive, but what they lack in actual stuff, they make up for with models. We entered through the Paleocene room with a mammoth (technically there is a baby mammoth too but that had been moved to another exhibition) and the skeleton of a woolly rhinoceros, almost complete. The latter is either haunted and has tried to escape, or someone seriously mismeasured its case, because the horn had cracked the glass at some point. Some other models included a sabretooth cat and a scene of steppe wolves hunting.

We went back in time towards older epochs. There was a mosasaur hunting an ammonite, along with a number of fossils from both invertebrates and vertebrates. We reached the Age of Dinosaurs. They have literally one bone, a femur, of an ornithopod dinosaur, similar to an iguanodon. From that, they managed to describe a whole species, Burianosaurus augustai (2017), similar to an Iguanodon. Upon studying the specimen, scientists also discovered that there were shark teeth marks on the bone, so someone recreated a whole scene of the poor beast dying and being torn apart by sharks. I’m not even kidding.

Further back in time, and deeper into the museum, we reached the wall of national fossils – trilobites. There were cases about the primitive oceans, with dioramas and replicas. From there, we entered the world of evolution and biodiversity, which again had great models but humble actual exhibits.

The History Exhibit starts in the 8^th century and lasts until World War I. It held a lot of interesting artefacts that reflected how life was at the beginning of the 20th century, including some fascinating objects such as toys. The Prehistory area was a bit more strange, with lots of human remains in reproductions of burials (I really hope they were reproductions and nobody had relocated a whole necropolis…).

Prague National Museum: Bone and reconstruction of burianosaurus - the reconstruction is a dead dinosaur being eaten by sharks.

Prague National Museum: Skeleton of a Wooly rhino, reconstruction of a mammoth, colourful corals and marine mammal reconstructions (seal, walrus, sea lions).

Prague National Museum Historical displays: old town clay tiles, Medieval book, religious sculptures, carriage and toy sewing machine.

We left the museum to head back towards the hotel. There was a small Christmas Market at the end of Wenceslas Square Václavské nám, and we passed by yet another one: the regular market Havelské tržiště had been turned into a festive checkpoint, but most of the stalls had the same stuff at the same prices. It was still packed though. We made a stop at the Choco-Story shop to see if they had started selling the Christmas-tree sweets we had seen made the day before, but no such luck.

We went back the hotel to regroup and find out what time they were picking us up the following day. Later in the evening, we left once more to find Broadway Theatre so we could watch the WOW Show Black Light Theatre Prague. Notice the English name, it was clearly aimed at tourists, but the only one my parents found advertised at the hotel. Doors opened at 19:30, but placement was free, so we wanted to be there around 19:15. As we checked in, we were given some glow sticks. I don’t think my family had ever held glow sticks in their life…

We had to go down a couple of floors worth of stairs to get to the actual theatre and when we got to the stalls, we ended up getting pretty horrible seats for some reason or another. Soon the venue began to fill up. There was a huge group of young tourists who had obviously been raised in a barn. They yelled and burped and, when lights went off, they decided to start throwing the glow sticks. One got me in the back of the head, and damn, those things hurt.

Prague’s black light theatre (černé divadlo) works with black backgrounds, UV lights and fluorescent elements to create visual illusions. Basically, you only see brightly coloured bits, either props, face paint, or clothing. It was… weird. Not what I was expecting at all. The idea was that a guy came back from work, watched some TV, then went to sleep, and we got to see all his dreams, in dance version. At some point, the actors bounced some big balls at the audience for us to play with, and the rude macro-group decided to play dodge-ball with them. Some dancers also played spiders which had to move over the audience. All in all, it was an interesting experience, a bit ruined by the company, but I did not like it much. A bit too surreal for me.

Dinner was again at the shopping centre – not much choice, at the only open sandwich place. One of these days, my family will realise that buying snacks in advance is a good idea. That day was not today.

16th November 2025: Day trip to Monaco {France & Monaco, November 2025}

Posted on 28 February 2026 by JBinnacle

Ready to brave a 100% chance of rain, I woke up, drank my coffee, and left my hotel in Nice to head to the station. At that point, Nice was in weather alert for storms, rain, flooding, waves, winds, and landslides. However, my destination, Monaco – less than a half-hour by train – was chill. It was drizzling when I stepped onto the street, but not enough to even need an umbrella. When I reached the station, I set to fight the ticket machines, which were so confusing that I missed my train while trying to finish the transaction. Fortunately, with a frequency of 30 minutes, it was a train I could afford to miss. I spent the time taking pictures of Gare de Nice-Ville. The station is a typical example of the use of iron as building material at the end of the 19^th century. It was designed by architect Louis-Jules Bouchot in the Louis XIII style, inspired by Parisian buildings. Though it originally sat outside the city, now it is right in the middle of it, and it has been in service since 1864.

In the train shed of Gare de Nice - glass ceilings and wrought iron beams.

When my train arrived, it was only 20 minutes or so to reach the principality Principauté de Monaco, a city-state that spans little over 2 square kilometres in area – it qualifies as a microstate, and it is the second smallest state in the world, with not even 10,000 nationals. However, almost 38,500 people live there, making it very highly populated – think Malta on steroids.

Monaco has been ruled by the House of Grimaldi since around 1300, when the family conquered the territory. It was annexed by France after the French Revolution, but after the defeat of Napoleon it was given to the Kingdom of Sardinia. When Sardinia became part of Italy in the 19^th century, Monaco regained its sovereignty by conceding outer territories to France, with independence being achieved by the Franco-Monégasque Treaty of 1861. At this time, it had become a tourist giant, establishing hotels and a famous casino. Nowadays, the city-state is considered one of the most expensive and wealthiest places in the world – around 30% of its residents are millionaires. It has no personal income-tax and low business taxes, which makes it a tax heaven and money-laundering hub, while still using the euro though it is not part of the European Union – hello there, unexpected Internet roaming charges!

Most of the city is in levels due to the slopes of the French Alps plummeting right into the Mediterranean Sea. Though originally there were different municipalities in the country, today Monaco is basically one big city – with a lot of parks, for sure. In 2015, it literally ran out of space for houses, so it began a project to create “land in the sea”, using concrete blocks as foundation. This is one of the nine administrative wards, the most important – or famous – of them being Monaco-Ville (the technical capital) and Monte Carlo.

Besides tourism and money-laundering, one of the most important industries in Monaco is gambling. The casino Le Grand Casino de Monte Carlo single-handedly makes so much money that it is the reason Monegasques don’t need to pay taxes besides social-insurance ones. Since 1929, the country has held the Monaco Grand Prix on an annual basis, along with other major races, on a “designated” circuit Circuit de Monaco, which is part of the actual town’s streets and roads.

I reached Monte Carlo station half an hour later than intended, but well within my self-impose timetable. I followed the signs to the casino and walked through steep streets lined with manors in the Belle Époque architecture style. After ten minutes or so, with just a few droplets of drizzle in the air, I reached the park Jardins du Casino de Monte Carlo, composed of two different gardens (Jardins des Boulingrins and Jardins de la Petite Afrique), with a beautiful classic merry-go-round within, and some ducks frolicking in puddles. The gardens lead to the Place du Casino and of course the casino itself – Le Grand Casino de Monte Carlo. I am not a gambler, but the architectural interest of the building attracted me, and cultural visits can be carried out in the morning. However, these cannot be booked online, and time was quite limited. Thus, I had chosen to make it my first visit.

Outside the Casino de Montecarlo.

The two security guards – metal detectors in hand – smiled at me and waved me through. I must not look like a casino risk (which also made me chuckle remembering how I had been so thoroughly checked in the Paris Palaeontology Gallery, maybe they saw me as suspicious for some reason?). When buying my ticket, I understood why you could not book online. When you purchase the cultural visit, you are given the chance to “invest” that money into a voucher for playing slots once the casino opens for actual business. I declined, citing that I was not dressed for that. I later learnt that there is a gaming room for the “rabble” before getting into the actual high-class room – but the cultural visit allows you to snoop almost everywhere.

I was not interested in gambling anyway, so I went on my merry way to do the aforementioned snooping. The casino is owned by a public company controlled by the government and the Grimaldi house, and it is only open to foreigners. It was established in 1863, and the architectural style of the current building is a bit on the eclectic side. Architect Charles Garnier combined elements of Baroque, Renaissance, Belle Époque, some Art Nouveau… to create a luxury environment. Some of the classical games gambled on include poker, craps, blackjack and baccarat, along with different kinds of roulettes. However, the sheer amount of slot machines for different games threw me off. They looked completely out of place in the classical environment. The two halls with only classic games were my favourite, and I saw that some of the tables had a minimum bet in the hundreds of euros.

Lavish interior of the Monte Carlo casino - everything is gold and golden!

Not having run into James Bond (the casino was featured in Never Say Never Again and Golden Eye), I left the casino and headed to the real reason I had been wanting to visit Monaco since May 1992. I am not even kidding.

Probably the Universal Expo in Seville in 1992 was my first big trip. I was just a child, so my parents organised everything, but I’m told I behaved like a trooper. One of the pavilions we visited then was the Monaco one, where there was a giant aquarium with an underwater tunnel. I was immediately smitten, and promised myself that one day I would visit Monaco and the Oceanographic Museum there. Today was that day.

The Musée Océanographique de Monaco was the brainchild of Prince Albert I of Grimaldi, who ruled the principality between 1889 and 1922. While he cannot be considered the father of oceanography, one could say that he was one of its main early-adopters. He owned four research vessels, studied ocean currents, and collected biological specimens and soil samples – he did a lot of cool stuff. After his death, the most famous diver in the world, Jacques-Yves Cousteau, became director of the museum between 1957 and 1988.

However, before I entered the building, I had to get there. Adjacent to the Le Grand Casino de Monte Carlo stands the Opéra de Monte Carlo. To the other side, one of the most famous stretches of the racing circuit Circuit de Monaco, the Fairmont Hairpin Curve. I snuck into a hotel terrace for a good picture, but left before any security guard could come to kick me out.

Afterwards, I explored a park with ocean views, where there was a seagull on duty to make noises at tourists. I am glad I entered the park using the entry I did, thus I was not confused by the footprints left there. When I saw “Maradona” and “Pelé” I realised that the park was dedicated to footballers. It makes sense that it is called The Champions Promenade – but if I had used any other entrance, I would have had zero idea who those people were.

Young seagull standing at the pier.

I walked past the already-getting-ready Christmas market, and walked around, and headed south along the Mediterranean Sea coastline. I strolled past interesting buildings such as the Auditorium Rainier III and some monuments to famous racers – William Grover Monument and Statue de Juan Manuel Fangio. On the other side of the road I spotted the small chapel Église de Sainte-Dévote, the patron-saint of Monaco.

The Quai Albert 1er had been taken over by a funfair, so I could only snoop around the commercial gallery. I finally tackled the ascent to the ward of Monaco-Ville, the highest part of the city, I think. I went up through pretty stairs through a park until I reached the historical Rampe de la Major which, through the Medieval Gate Porte d’entrée au Rocher lead me into the heart of Monaco – Rocher de Monaco, the area known as “The Rock”, in the ward of Monaco-Ville.

There stands the palace, the Old Town, the cathedral and the museum which was my destination. I stopped for some panoramic views and photos of the Monte Carlo area, and them I scurried through the narrow traditional streets, now turned into restaurants and souvenir shops. I stopped to take a couple of photos of the cathedral, since it was not raining yet, and continued on. A few minutes later I was walking up the stairs of the Baroque Revival building, which perches over a cliff – the Musée Océanographique de Monaco.

My inner child squealed. My outer adult might have too. We both headed downstairs to visit the Aquarium first. The central ocean tank hosts turtles, sharks, and tropical fish, while smaller aquariums focus on species from different ocean regions: Mediterranean on one ward, Tropical on the other. It was actually smaller than other aquariums I’ve visited before but there was something special about this one.

Oceanographic Museum of Monaco aquarium - clownfish, nautilus, scorpion fish and gobid hiding in a pipe.

I then went up to the first floor, which hosts the main exhibit rooms. As I got there, I was greeted by a model of a giant squid, after having some fun with the giant clams decorating the stairs. The central ward of that floor is named Océanomania. It hosts specimens from all the oceans around the world, including a polar bear model and a huge walrus skeleton. Smaller but in no way less cool, there were shells, fish in formaldehyde, and a taxidermied / mummified mermaid. I kid you not. Of course, it’s a souvenir made in Japan using the body of an ape and the tail of a fish, but for a while those were considered the real thing.

In the middle of the room there was a sculpture of a sperm whale breaching. On the right stands the Whale Room Salle de la Bailene, whose ceiling is populated by a few skeletons of cetaceans. There is an immersive temporary exhibition there, Méditerranée 2050 L’Exposition. It is some sort of virtual reality, playing with how a submersible dive would look in 2050 in the Mediterranean if we somehow managed to solve all our problems with pollution immediately. I sat through the English version, and the animation was beautiful.

Oceanographic Museum of Monaco exhibits - a sculpture of a breaching sperm whale, cetacean skeletons and a fake mermaid skeleton made from the remains of a monkey and a fish.

Before exploring the left ward Monaco and L’Océan (Monaco and the Ocean), I decided to go up to the Terrace Restaurant and have some lunch. It was underwhelming, but convenient. I was given the worst table – though it was for four people – next to the door (which people forgot to close all the time) and the waiter was pretty unfriendly. But I sat down for 30 minutes, got some warm food into me – faux-fillet sauce au Roquefort (rib eye steak with blue cheese sauce) with chips.

When it was time to leave the restaurant, it was raining hard, and I had to walk across the building actual terrace to get to the door again. I hurried through, protecting the cameras, and got down to see the remaining ward. There stands a replica of a research ship and interactive exhibits of oceanographic instruments, along with the discoveries made by Prince Albert I.

To finish off, I left through the shop. Throughout the museum there are little machines where you can purchase souvenir coins, and I hoped that they also had them in the shop – I did not have enough change for all of them. If they had not had the coins, there was a machine outside, quite literally next to the Yellow Submarine where I would have bought one. Since they had them in the shop I got… all five.

It was still early, and the rain was back to a manageable drizzle, so I wandered the gardens Jardins Saint-Martin, a bit of a botanic garden with views of the ocean, the Musée Océanographique de Monaco, and the harbour Port de Fontvieille.

Oceanographic Museum of Monaco standing above the waves, with a seagull in the front of the picture.

The 100% chances of rain were still holding, and it didn’t feel like the weather gods would favour me for much longer. I reached the Cathedral of our Lady Immaculate, a Neo Romanic building which – luckily – had the altar lit up. Actress / Princess Grace Kelly is reportedly buried there, but most of the graves were covered by carpets and I was unable to find hers. What I did find was a commemorative coin machine. By the time I left the building, I had run out of favour from the gods. I pulled my umbrella and marched on towards the Place du Palace, where the Palace Principier, the official residence of the head of state is. The Palace can sometimes be visited but it’s at the moment closed. But do you know what it had? Commemorative coins.

Cathedral of Monaco - neoromanesque building, inside and outside.

One of my (albeit silly) goals for the day had been walking from the south to the north borders of the city-state. Imagine the bragging rights, crossing a country from west to east (I had done that from the station to the ocean border), going from the lowest point (the harbour) to the highest (the Oceanographic Museum terrace), and from south to north. However, it was raining in earnest now, so my umbrella and I headed to the private collections of cars that the Prince owns La Collection Automobiles de S.A.S. le Prince de Monaco. I went down towards Monte Carlo using the same stairs I had used before, which had turned into a bit of a waterfall. I was not far from the car collection, but the straight line was blocked by the funfair I had seen before. I had to stop under a roof to throw my rain poncho on.

View of Monaco in the middle of a stormcloud, showing the marina and the tall buildings on the coastline.

The Private Cars Collection of HSH Prince of Monaco is quite impressive, containing ancient cars, classical ones, modern machines and quite a few F1 engines. I saw Fords from the first batch of Fords ever built, Rolls Royces, Aston Martins, Ferraris, Lamborghinis… I even inspected the sub-collections of helmets. This time I didn’t buy the commemorative coin, but a casino chip imitation.

Some cars in the Prince's collection - racing and luxury Ferraris.

I undid my way from the morning. The storm was now pretty bad, and water ran down the streets. I decided to take one last picture of the Casino de Monte Carlo, lit up, and then head back to the station. Of course, when I got there, the rain stopped. However, my shoes were waterlogged, and so were my jeans up to my knees. I decided to head back to Nice anyway, and give up my cross-country endeavour.

Casino de Montecarlo in the evening while it rains.

Trains were delayed due to rain, but one came shortly after I had reached the platform. On the train, I reflected that my inner child was extremely happy. My inner adult too. My outer adult was pretty drenched. Upon arriving at Gare de Nice-Ville, I stopped at the supermarket for supplies and went back to the room. As soon I reached the hotel, the skies opened again. However the meteorological alert had already passed. I had to talk to reception to get a working remote for my air conditioning machine, because the previous evening had been okay, but today I was going to need some extra heat. I had a shower, changed into my PJs and devised a strategy to dry off my shoes, trousers, and maybe socks, using the hair dryer without overheating the machine. I was mostly successful. Socks had to come back in a separate bag, wetter than merely damp, though.

The shoes were pretty okay (though the inner soles will never be the same), and the trousers fine. Around midnight, I left the former wrapped in a towel and the latter hanging, and went to bed to dream about seahorses.