In the past few weeks, I have had a weekend in Carcassonne, a day trip to Avignon, lunch in Cannes, two days in Monaco and two days in Shildon. The last word of that sentence simply confirms my reputation for choosing only the most chic and invigorating of destinations. Take away "chic" and it remains true.
The trips to Carcassonne and Avignon will get their moments of Salut! fame, but not just now.
Lunch in Cannes was on the beach, on the way to Monaco, and was a delicious salad of marinated fish. Monaco, chiefly, was for the excellent Joan Baez though what possessed a folk heroine to perform for the moneyed, jewellery-rattling classes escapes me. That fall from the treehouse at her Californian home must have played havoc with mind as well as body.
Shildon was Shildon, town of my upbringing and home of my very good friend, Pete Sixsmith, who not only put me up but took me down to the impressive railway museum for a quick look at locomotives and carriages of the past.
There was a gratifying whiff of steam on entering the main building and nothing displayed within made a greater impact than the Cornwall, pictured above (but below the fish in case anyone gets them mixed up), which ploughed up and down the West Coast line from 1847 until well into the 20th century, 1922 according to one snippet I read though trefe were various dates and it all became a little confusing.
But I must say that while the "The National Railway Museum of York and Shildon" no less - Shildon used to claim it saw only the rubbish York didn't want, but that seems to have changed - had me breathing the kind of air I breathed decades ago as a lad, the Musée Océanographique in Monaco took the breath away.
It was the B movie that trumped the main feature. We had arranged to visit L'Histoire du Mariage Princier, images from and relics of the July wedding of Prince Albert and Princess Charlene to which, curiously enough, I was not invited. That was interesting enough, as far as it went, but the museum of marine life in which it is accommodated was stunning.
I do not regard myself as especially fond of fishes, except when they are placed before me to eat. But I was captivated by the beauty of these creatures as I wandered from tank to tank.
If you think you would never really derive enjoyment from an acquarium, do spend whatever to takes to visit the Musée Océanographique - €14 for each adult from memory - if ever in the principality and tell me what you think afterwards. The royal wedding exhibition has been so successful that its run has been extended by a month until the end of the year.
Come to think of, you can do the same if your travels take you anywhere near the part of the National Railway Museum that is housed in Shildon, which as every small boy should know is the cradle of the railways; they had all eight surviving Deltics, not steam-powered but still formidable beasts, on display where I was there. This is the English Electric prototype, sadly headless as I resorted to mobile phone for photographic purposes ...
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