A Wet(tish) Weekend in London

“Can I have some water please?”

And then it struck me. My nearly 3-year-old granddaughter Grace whose buggy I was pushing, is no longer a baby. She’s become a little girl, able to articulate her wishes and needs. Steering between shoppers on the High Street, I fished her cup out of a bag so she could quench her thirst. 7-year-old Sam, whose swimming lesson we had just been watching, led us towards a family friendly restaurant where his parents met us, treating us to a splendid Italian meal.

We were in London because our son Martin and his wife Rachel very much fancied a ‘get-away’ night, an oasis in their busy lives as parents. Jane and I had caught the late Friday morning train to London ready to assume our grandparenting roles.

I’d brought my friend Sally’s delightful book for toddlers, ‘Handfuls of Sunshine’, hoping Sam would read it to Grace. He decided it wasn’t interesting because it didn’t contain a problem! 

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On Saturday morning, I was assigned to take Sam to football. Grandma Jane, meanwhile, went to work in the allotment, assisted by Grace. More specifically, they made daisy chains. Meanwhile Martin and Rachel made their exit, departing for a night away in Kent where they relaxed, ate leisurely meals and walked through bluebell woods.

Back at home, the letterbox clicked open. Grace announced importantly,

“Sam, your Beano’s come!” after which Sam disappeared into the world of Denis the Menace and the Bash Street Kids.

After lunch, Jane and I fastened a reluctant Grace into her buggy and headed out with Sam into the drizzle. We negotiated our way onto a bus, squeezing the buggy plus its occupant into the allotted space opposite the middle door.  

Soon we arrived at the Horniman museum in Forest Hill. On previous visits, Grace had been a passive observer. No more! Our first stop was the dinosaur exhibition where, as last year, Sam raced to dress himself up. Only this time, both children did so, with Grace chasing her big brother around the hall at great speed. Somehow one tried to educate oneself about the feathered dinosaurs that are fascinating the world of palaentology, but in vain…

Why couldn’t we find our grandchildren, we wondered? Then we noticed two sniggering dinosaur heads peeping around a dark corner; they were engaged in ‘let’s hide from Grandma and Grandpa’, using all the nooks and crannies to their advantage.

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I celebrated Sunday morning by making boiled eggs using those from our own chickens. Grace, now seated at a ‘proper’ chair, was next to ‘Gwanpa John’, and managed to convey about 50% of the egg into her mouth, the rest staying in the shell or going elsewhere. At least ‘elsewhere’ no longer included her hair. We then headed off to the Discover Children’s Story Centre in Stratford, East London.

The journey, by train then by tube, was (in theory) simple. But, as Sam may have hoped, we had a problem. Alighting from the train, the lift refused to descend to the platform where the tube ran. It took us up instead. So Grace had to go down the escalator with Jane and Sam, whilst I descended separately, clutching precariously onto the buggy. On the later stages of the journey, the Jubilee line intersected at every stop with the Docklands Light Railway. The announcements prompted both children to chant, in unison, “DLR! DLR!…”  

Eventually we found our way there. What a feast for the senses! Rooms full of little corners that stirred the imagination. Caves, hollow trees, old kitchens, a space exploration capsule…tales read by their in-house ‘story builders’…

Poor Grace became upset because Sam had made friends his own age, but this gave me and Jane more snuggle time with her! Sam finally settled down for about 20 minutes to colour a Hootah bird (shown below) which lives on the planet of  Squiggly Diggly. Grace, of course, joined in.  

The climax of our visit was the Rocket Box, an interactive mission to a planet whose inhabitants needed our help to restore their creative spark. A screen show accelerated us into warp drive before we were released into a labyrinth of rooms imaginatively kitted out with play exercises. All in all, a great place to visit, especially on a wet day.

Back at Martin and Rachel’s, I grabbed my bags ready to return to Brighouse, leaving Jane to continue being Supergran. We were delighted to learn that two busy parents had made the most of their night away.