Hiroshima in Japan - the site of the world’s first atomic bombing - isn’t exactly the first destination on a traveller’s list for a cheerful holiday. But it sure is moving.
The spot where the first atomic bomb used in warfare exploded is now known as the Hiroshima Peace Park, with the most striking sight being the Atomic Bomb Dome. This was a former exhibition hall, and it has been deliberately left as a ravaged shell to remind visitors of the destruction wreaked.
Also in the park is the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, which goes into depth about the horrors of the atomic bomb and the effect it had on the city.
Showing posts with label bizarre museum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bizarre museum. Show all posts
Thursday, 16 October 2008
Thursday, 2 October 2008
Crime Museum in Vienna, Austria
Those with a squeamish disposition are adised to skip the Crime Museum in Vienna, Austria (known as KriminalMuseum in German). Tucked away in what seems like a relatively small old building, this place is a veritable TARDIS of gore.
All the text is in German, and the stories of Vienna’s ancient crimes are going to get lost in translation for the non-linguists, but much of the utterly sinister collection is visual. And visceral, for that matter.
The Crime Museum is clearly aimed at the sort of demographic that enjoys walking through extensive cellars, looking at picture after picture of murder victims.
Yes, there are some bits on the sterling work of the police force, but the emphasis is certainly skewed towards rusty torture instruments, brutal weapons and photos of de-limbed torsos being dug up.
But sometimes it’s a refreshing change to settle in for a couple of hours of witch-burnings, violent confession extractions, lynch mobs and mummified heads in jars.
The whole thing is an engaging, morally ambiguous romp through Vienna’s criminal past. Much is ordered chronologically, with illustrated year-by-year and blow-by-blow accounts about the most newsworthy murders complimented by extensive profiles of the crooks. Lovely stuff.
Getting to the Crime Museum in Vienna, Austria
Nearest international airport: Vienna
Using public transport: Get bus number 5A or tram N. The museum is at Große Sperlgasse 24.
More information: Kriminalmuseum
All the text is in German, and the stories of Vienna’s ancient crimes are going to get lost in translation for the non-linguists, but much of the utterly sinister collection is visual. And visceral, for that matter.
The Crime Museum is clearly aimed at the sort of demographic that enjoys walking through extensive cellars, looking at picture after picture of murder victims.
Yes, there are some bits on the sterling work of the police force, but the emphasis is certainly skewed towards rusty torture instruments, brutal weapons and photos of de-limbed torsos being dug up.
But sometimes it’s a refreshing change to settle in for a couple of hours of witch-burnings, violent confession extractions, lynch mobs and mummified heads in jars.
The whole thing is an engaging, morally ambiguous romp through Vienna’s criminal past. Much is ordered chronologically, with illustrated year-by-year and blow-by-blow accounts about the most newsworthy murders complimented by extensive profiles of the crooks. Lovely stuff.
Getting to the Crime Museum in Vienna, Austria
Nearest international airport: Vienna
Using public transport: Get bus number 5A or tram N. The museum is at Große Sperlgasse 24.
More information: Kriminalmuseum
Wednesday, 1 October 2008
Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! Museum – Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia
The return of the freak show
In this day and age, a few fine old entertainments of the past border on taboo. The travelling freak show has long since been consigned to history; we’re encouraged to display sympathy towards the excessively tall, fat or hairy rather than point and coo. The bearded ladies of the 21st century will just shave it off, while the money-spinning grotesques can simply go under the surgeon’s knife.
However, there are a few last outposts of this bygone era still hanging on in there which haven’t been overrun by people pointing out that gawking at giants is a bit wrong, and, surprisingly, one of them can be found in the main shopping mall in Surfers Paradise, Australia.
Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! Museum
The Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! Museum in Cavill Mall is packed with the weird, wonderful and downright bizarre. It’s got shrunken heads found in Ecuador, pictures of a woman who could insert a hubcap in her lip and a scale model of the tallest man who ever lived, complete with his size 37AA shoes.
Unfortunately, these discoveries were those of a rampant egomaniac. Robert Ripley was the man behind the antiquated newspaper column which the museum is based on, and you’re not allowed to forget it.
Despite him being a complete irrelevance to 99% of the people looking round, a disturbing percentage of the museum is dedicated to photos of him and his life story, complete with some truly clunky, nasty Americanised branding.
It’s a shame, because once beyond the ridiculous self-indulgence, there are some quite fascinating things to take in.
Napoleon’s signatures
Whilst full of seemingly random artefacts, the cabinets also have some intriguing bits of information. For example, amongst a selection of Napoleon’s signatures (all completely different, which no doubt caused havoc at the bank) is the titbit that the French battle fanatic invented the modern house numbering system. Never knew that…
And, while we’re on it, did you know that the human tongue doesn’t age? Well, that’s the sort of useless, but brilliant, information to expect.
17 inch dwarf
But it’s not facts that you come for; it’s freaks, and there are plenty of them. A Cyclops goat, a headless hen, a man with a wooden rail through his chest, and a 17 inch dwarf imprisoned in a parrot cage for treason. Ah, just like the good old days…
Getting to Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Museum on the Gold Coast, Queensland
Nearest international airport: A close run thing between Brisbane International Airport and the Gold Coast airport at Coolangatta. Budget Airlines are beginning to run cheap international flights from there.
Using public transport: Take any bus going into the centre of Surfers Paradise.
More information: Ripley’s
Saturday, 20 September 2008
World’s Oldest Museums – Musei Capitolini in Rome, Italy
Unsurprisingly, the prestige of being the oldest building containing old things is fought over quite vigorously by people who should perhaps know better.
Anyway, just about every place housing a dusty old relic will claim to be the oldest museum by inserting some kind of sub-clause, but the most convincing argument comes from the Musei Capitolini (Capitoline Museums) in Rome, Italy.
They go back to 1471, although they would have been admittedly a pretty poor effort back then, containing only some bronze statues donated by Pope Sixtus IV.
It was 1734 before the museums opened to the public, and is now home to a wealth of artefacts from the Roman Empire, as well as various impressive sculptures.
More information: Musei Capitolini
Anyway, just about every place housing a dusty old relic will claim to be the oldest museum by inserting some kind of sub-clause, but the most convincing argument comes from the Musei Capitolini (Capitoline Museums) in Rome, Italy.
They go back to 1471, although they would have been admittedly a pretty poor effort back then, containing only some bronze statues donated by Pope Sixtus IV.
It was 1734 before the museums opened to the public, and is now home to a wealth of artefacts from the Roman Empire, as well as various impressive sculptures.
More information: Musei Capitolini
Clog Barn and Little Holland in Coffs Harbour, New South Wales, Australia
In a country with such an obvious European heritage, it is only natural that some things will have come over from that continent with the settlers. Some of these are obvious – everyone speaks English, whilst just about every town in Australia will have an Irish pub, Italian restaurant and Greek kebab house.
However, every now and then you come across a glorious little pocket that has not tried to blend into the multi-cultural surroundings, and is absolute determined to retain the characteristics of the motherland.
For no discernable reason, completely at odds with the surrounding towns, you will stumble upon oompah bands in German villages in the Adelaide Hills (Hahndorf), or Spanish monastic communities an hour’s drive away from Perth (New Norcia).
Little Holland
Deserving a special mention for sheer bloody-mindedness, however, is Little Holland near Coffs Harbour, New South Wales. Clearly unable to persuade the rest of the area that they should build cannabis cafes, stick their fingers in dykes and revel in red light districts, proud Dutchman Tom Hartsuyker has cornered off his own piece of (flat) land, and has filled it with every other national stereotype he can think of.
The result is a 1/20 scale model village built over five tedious years, and it is a work of truly breathtaking pointlessness. Still, if making miniature windmills keeps him out of trouble and off the streets, then fair play to him.
Just in case that’s not quite Dutch enough, it is attached to a clog barn. Happily ignoring the fact that no-one, even in Holland, has worn clogs for roughly 200 years, they are on sale here.
At 11am and 4pm every day, there are clog-making demonstrations. Again, they are strangely endearing, even if everyone is looking at each other, sniggering under their hands and scratching their foreheads.
Getting to the Clog Barn and Little Holland, Coffs Harbour
Nearest International Airport: Coffs Harbour has its own airport, but it only receives domestic flights. Coffs itself is roughly half way between Sydney and Brisbane, and thus a long drive from either. The best option is to fly into Sydney Kingsford Smith and then get a connecting flight.
Within Coffs Harbour: The Clog Barn and Little Holland is on the north side of Coffs Harbour, on the highway out of town – on the way to The Big Banana. Entry to the Clog Barn and the demonstrations are free, but you’ll have to fork out to see the model village and railway.
More information: The Clog Barn
However, every now and then you come across a glorious little pocket that has not tried to blend into the multi-cultural surroundings, and is absolute determined to retain the characteristics of the motherland.
For no discernable reason, completely at odds with the surrounding towns, you will stumble upon oompah bands in German villages in the Adelaide Hills (Hahndorf), or Spanish monastic communities an hour’s drive away from Perth (New Norcia).
Little Holland
Deserving a special mention for sheer bloody-mindedness, however, is Little Holland near Coffs Harbour, New South Wales. Clearly unable to persuade the rest of the area that they should build cannabis cafes, stick their fingers in dykes and revel in red light districts, proud Dutchman Tom Hartsuyker has cornered off his own piece of (flat) land, and has filled it with every other national stereotype he can think of.
The result is a 1/20 scale model village built over five tedious years, and it is a work of truly breathtaking pointlessness. Still, if making miniature windmills keeps him out of trouble and off the streets, then fair play to him.
Just in case that’s not quite Dutch enough, it is attached to a clog barn. Happily ignoring the fact that no-one, even in Holland, has worn clogs for roughly 200 years, they are on sale here.
At 11am and 4pm every day, there are clog-making demonstrations. Again, they are strangely endearing, even if everyone is looking at each other, sniggering under their hands and scratching their foreheads.
Getting to the Clog Barn and Little Holland, Coffs Harbour
Nearest International Airport: Coffs Harbour has its own airport, but it only receives domestic flights. Coffs itself is roughly half way between Sydney and Brisbane, and thus a long drive from either. The best option is to fly into Sydney Kingsford Smith and then get a connecting flight.
Within Coffs Harbour: The Clog Barn and Little Holland is on the north side of Coffs Harbour, on the highway out of town – on the way to The Big Banana. Entry to the Clog Barn and the demonstrations are free, but you’ll have to fork out to see the model village and railway.
More information: The Clog Barn
Friday, 12 September 2008
Serial Killer Museum in Florence, Italy
Saying hi to Ted Bundy
Ted Bundy looks like such a pleasant young man. He’s well dressed, has a lovely car and sports a suitably sensible haircut. Just a shame he had to kill all those people, really.
Standing next to Ted’s waxwork model is just the tip of the iceberg, however. As his story is recounted in frighteningly specific detail through the headphones, a quick scan of the room confirms that bigger horrors await. Such as Aileen Wournos and Jeffrey Dahmer
The Serial Killer Museum in Florence, Italy does exactly what it says on the tin; lots of gore, blood, weaponry and vile misdeeds. And, as such, it is by far the most entertaining thing in the city.
The level of research is commendable. Mass murderers from around the world have been collated, and their stories told. Occasionally it comes across as a rather sick game of Top Trumps, with signs comparing factors such as Number of Victims and Modus Operandi.
John Wayne Gacy’s bedroom
It’s hard to work out whether the visuals or the audio is more disturbing. There are electric chairs, model psychopaths locked in cages and a painstaking recreation of John Wayne Gacy’s bedroom (complete with him in a clown outfit). All jolly pleasant, especially when added to the commentary. It’s no exaggeration to say that you could sit there listening to it for hours, and it goes into the mindset of the killers, what it would have been like for their victims and the methods that police used to track them down. With shameless sensationalism, it regularly uses phrases like “beastly fury”, “signature from hell” and “the assassin can appear from nowhere... AT ANY TIME!”
History of serial killing
It’s not a cheap, morally dubious cash-in, though – it is genuinely well done. There’s a sense of context and history – French slaughterers and Hungarian vampiresses from as far back as the 15th century also get covered – whilst there is also a big emphasis put on how such crimes are solved and dealt with. This includes methods of punishment, with the tales of lethal injection tables and electric chairs gone wrong accompanied by real-life (decommissioned) dispatch mechanisms to gawp at.
And, for these reasons, a bizarre serenity envelopes the museum, completely at odds with the subject matter. It’s quite clear that most of the visitors are frazzled and harried from a day of hardcore tourism in a fairly unrelenting city. The opportunity to sit down in a nice chair and listen to the theories about Jack The Ripper while Charles Manson stares at you is, oddly, a very welcome one.
Who’d have thought the Butcher of Rostov would make better company than Michaelangelo’s David?
Getting to the Serial Killer Museum in Florence
The Serial Killer Museum is part of the Museo Criminale on Via Cavour in Florence. It’s a couple of minutes’ walk away from the Duomo.
Nearest international airport: Florence.
Ted Bundy looks like such a pleasant young man. He’s well dressed, has a lovely car and sports a suitably sensible haircut. Just a shame he had to kill all those people, really.
Standing next to Ted’s waxwork model is just the tip of the iceberg, however. As his story is recounted in frighteningly specific detail through the headphones, a quick scan of the room confirms that bigger horrors await. Such as Aileen Wournos and Jeffrey Dahmer
The Serial Killer Museum in Florence, Italy does exactly what it says on the tin; lots of gore, blood, weaponry and vile misdeeds. And, as such, it is by far the most entertaining thing in the city.
The level of research is commendable. Mass murderers from around the world have been collated, and their stories told. Occasionally it comes across as a rather sick game of Top Trumps, with signs comparing factors such as Number of Victims and Modus Operandi.
John Wayne Gacy’s bedroom
It’s hard to work out whether the visuals or the audio is more disturbing. There are electric chairs, model psychopaths locked in cages and a painstaking recreation of John Wayne Gacy’s bedroom (complete with him in a clown outfit). All jolly pleasant, especially when added to the commentary. It’s no exaggeration to say that you could sit there listening to it for hours, and it goes into the mindset of the killers, what it would have been like for their victims and the methods that police used to track them down. With shameless sensationalism, it regularly uses phrases like “beastly fury”, “signature from hell” and “the assassin can appear from nowhere... AT ANY TIME!”
History of serial killing
It’s not a cheap, morally dubious cash-in, though – it is genuinely well done. There’s a sense of context and history – French slaughterers and Hungarian vampiresses from as far back as the 15th century also get covered – whilst there is also a big emphasis put on how such crimes are solved and dealt with. This includes methods of punishment, with the tales of lethal injection tables and electric chairs gone wrong accompanied by real-life (decommissioned) dispatch mechanisms to gawp at.
And, for these reasons, a bizarre serenity envelopes the museum, completely at odds with the subject matter. It’s quite clear that most of the visitors are frazzled and harried from a day of hardcore tourism in a fairly unrelenting city. The opportunity to sit down in a nice chair and listen to the theories about Jack The Ripper while Charles Manson stares at you is, oddly, a very welcome one.
Who’d have thought the Butcher of Rostov would make better company than Michaelangelo’s David?
Getting to the Serial Killer Museum in Florence
The Serial Killer Museum is part of the Museo Criminale on Via Cavour in Florence. It’s a couple of minutes’ walk away from the Duomo.
Nearest international airport: Florence.
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
Dog Collar Museum in Leeds Castle, Kent, England
Within the walls of one of England’s most popular tourist attractions – Leeds Castle in Kent this collection of canine neckwear is proudly billed as the only one of its kind in Great Britain.
It’s difficult to imagine there being a frantic clamour to create some serious competition on this score, but it’s an undeniably impressive collection. If you’re into that sort of thing.
There are over 100 intricately engraved and sculpted dog collars in the museum, be they for hunting hounds or domestic pooches. All seem specifically designed to make that scraggy bit of leather around Fido’s neck look tatty and common.
Rumours that the only visitors are vicars and fetish club owners are consistently denied, although it is difficult to see what sort of travellers such an odd museum is trying to attract.
Entry to the Dog Collar Museum is included in the entrance fee to Leeds Castle.
More information: Leeds Castle
It’s difficult to imagine there being a frantic clamour to create some serious competition on this score, but it’s an undeniably impressive collection. If you’re into that sort of thing.
There are over 100 intricately engraved and sculpted dog collars in the museum, be they for hunting hounds or domestic pooches. All seem specifically designed to make that scraggy bit of leather around Fido’s neck look tatty and common.
Rumours that the only visitors are vicars and fetish club owners are consistently denied, although it is difficult to see what sort of travellers such an odd museum is trying to attract.
Entry to the Dog Collar Museum is included in the entrance fee to Leeds Castle.
More information: Leeds Castle
Tuesday, 9 September 2008
Muzeum Miniatur in Prague, Czech Republic
Consisting of little more than a room with a series of microscopes to look through, there can be few more impressively pointless museums than this celebration of the tiny in the Czech capital.
In some respects, however, the art on display in Prague’s Muzeum Miniatur is far more of an achievement than anything displayed in the great galleries. Who needs the Mona Lisa in the Louvre when you can get a picture of Jesus on a poppy seed? Why would anyone choose to vast collection of the Hermitage in St Petersburg, when they can upgrade to a portrait of Beethoven on an apple pip?
There are other such ludicrous masterpieces, featuring trains on a single hair, being passed through the eye of a needle or John Lennon.
But perhaps the most bizarre thing of all about this museum of frankly pointless art is that it is so understated. It’s essentially a medium-sized room with a sign outside, containing a few microscopes and magnifying glasses to look through.
There’s no fuss, no wild promotion, just a polite invitation to come in and have a look if you happen to be in the vicinity.
Getting to the Muzeum Miniatur in Prague
Nearest international airport: Prague’s international airport acts as the main entrance for foreign visitors into the Czech Republic.
By public transport: The Muzeum Miniatur is near Prague Castle – walkable from the city centre. The nearest metro station is Malastranska
More information: Muzeum Miniatur website
In some respects, however, the art on display in Prague’s Muzeum Miniatur is far more of an achievement than anything displayed in the great galleries. Who needs the Mona Lisa in the Louvre when you can get a picture of Jesus on a poppy seed? Why would anyone choose to vast collection of the Hermitage in St Petersburg, when they can upgrade to a portrait of Beethoven on an apple pip?
There are other such ludicrous masterpieces, featuring trains on a single hair, being passed through the eye of a needle or John Lennon.
But perhaps the most bizarre thing of all about this museum of frankly pointless art is that it is so understated. It’s essentially a medium-sized room with a sign outside, containing a few microscopes and magnifying glasses to look through.
There’s no fuss, no wild promotion, just a polite invitation to come in and have a look if you happen to be in the vicinity.
Getting to the Muzeum Miniatur in Prague
Nearest international airport: Prague’s international airport acts as the main entrance for foreign visitors into the Czech Republic.
By public transport: The Muzeum Miniatur is near Prague Castle – walkable from the city centre. The nearest metro station is Malastranska
More information: Muzeum Miniatur website
Monday, 8 September 2008
National Piping Centre in Glasgow, Scotland: Learn to play the bagpipes
Celebrating possibly the world’s most melodic instrument, the National Piping Centre in Glasgow, Scotland contains a small museum devoted to bagpipes.
And, boy does it go into detail about the Scottish aural torture weapon of choice. Whether it’s the origin of bagpipes, different playing styles or differences between Scottish and European pipes, the museum has all the information anyone could possibly wish for.
Perhaps the most interesting thing is just how old bagpiping is as a highly dubious ‘musical’ art form. Whether it’s the Celts or the Balkans, for centuries it has been the favoured noise-producer for peasants, shepherds and other people clearly not talented enough to get a record contract.
Those wishing to get a bit more into the caterwauling can book themselves in for bagpiping lessons.
And then, once enough lessons have been taken and your bagpiping skills are up there with the best, expect divorce proceedings to start quickly.
Getting to the National Piping Centre
Nearest international airport: Glasgow International Airport. Or, if you enjoy the famously pleasant service offered by Ryanair and its army of growling underpaid stewardesses, Glasgow Prestwick.
Using public transport: The National Piping Centre is within easy walking distance of both Glasgow Central and Queen Street railway stations. The same applies to the Buchanan bus station.
More information: National Piping Centre
And, boy does it go into detail about the Scottish aural torture weapon of choice. Whether it’s the origin of bagpipes, different playing styles or differences between Scottish and European pipes, the museum has all the information anyone could possibly wish for.
Perhaps the most interesting thing is just how old bagpiping is as a highly dubious ‘musical’ art form. Whether it’s the Celts or the Balkans, for centuries it has been the favoured noise-producer for peasants, shepherds and other people clearly not talented enough to get a record contract.
Those wishing to get a bit more into the caterwauling can book themselves in for bagpiping lessons.
And then, once enough lessons have been taken and your bagpiping skills are up there with the best, expect divorce proceedings to start quickly.
Getting to the National Piping Centre
Nearest international airport: Glasgow International Airport. Or, if you enjoy the famously pleasant service offered by Ryanair and its army of growling underpaid stewardesses, Glasgow Prestwick.
Using public transport: The National Piping Centre is within easy walking distance of both Glasgow Central and Queen Street railway stations. The same applies to the Buchanan bus station.
More information: National Piping Centre
Saturday, 6 September 2008
Teddy Bear Museum in Wimbledon, London, England
Quite why the bear has gained this soft image is inexplicable. Try cuddling up to one in the wild, and it’s one big clawfest. Blood, tattered clothes, internal haemorrhaging and probably being consumed alive await if you try and take a grizzly to bed with you.
Still, the less damaging versions have been regarded as the perfect bedside companions for decades, and many have been saved from a lonely fate in adult attics by England’s Teddy Bear Museum.
Originally in Stratford-upon-Avon, the museum moved its 700-strong collection to the Polka Theatre on Wimbledon Broadway, London in 2007. They missed a trick – they could have taken Paddington back to his rightful home.
Nevertheless, it’s a fascinating collection, dating back centuries. And the old tatty fellas have considerably more charm then the bright pink concoctions with movable parts that children choke on today.
Getting to the Teddy Bear Museum
Nearest International Airport: London Heathrow.
Using public transport: On the London Underground, take the District Line to Wimbledon, or use the Overground service to the same station. Turn left as you get out of the station and walk for about ten minutes to the Polka Theatre.
More information: Teddy Bear Museum website
Still, the less damaging versions have been regarded as the perfect bedside companions for decades, and many have been saved from a lonely fate in adult attics by England’s Teddy Bear Museum.
Originally in Stratford-upon-Avon, the museum moved its 700-strong collection to the Polka Theatre on Wimbledon Broadway, London in 2007. They missed a trick – they could have taken Paddington back to his rightful home.
Nevertheless, it’s a fascinating collection, dating back centuries. And the old tatty fellas have considerably more charm then the bright pink concoctions with movable parts that children choke on today.
Getting to the Teddy Bear Museum
Nearest International Airport: London Heathrow.
Using public transport: On the London Underground, take the District Line to Wimbledon, or use the Overground service to the same station. Turn left as you get out of the station and walk for about ten minutes to the Polka Theatre.
More information: Teddy Bear Museum website
Thursday, 4 September 2008
Alchemy Museum in Kutná Hora, Czech Republic
Turning base metals into gold is something that has occupied the minds and wallets of the rich and powerful for centuries, and it appears as though not everyone has given up on this pursuit entirely.
The Alchemy Museum, perched above the tourist information office in Kutná Hora, Czech Republic is quite clearly run by one of them. Dressed in garments more suited to a raving hippy than a serious scientist, he has put together a little darkened dungeon that explores the history and aims of alchemy. And it all looks a little bit like a mad scientist's laboratory.
We may mock now, but in times past it was held in as high regard as physics or chemistry. Visitors can learn about kings, dukes and princes that were obsessed with discovering the Elixir of Youth, as well as the meanings of Da Vinci Code-esque mumbo-jumbo like the Philosopher's Stone and Emerald Tablet.
Most of it is predictably unfathomable. After all, if richly-funded alchemists don't know what they're looking for, how are we supposed to know? However, it's a strangely fascinating jaunt through something most people thought died out a long time ago.
Better still, if visitors turn up when it's quiet (which is probably most days - the joint is hardly a major tourist draw), the curator will wander round the museum with them and spin all manner of unlikely stories.
Getting to Kutna Hora
Nearest international airport: Prague, Czech Republic.
Using public transport: It's around an hour on the bus from Prague. The Kutná Hora bus station is just to the north-east of the town's main square. That square is where visitors can find the Tourist Information Centre and Alchemy Museum.
More details: Kutna Horá Alchemy Museum Official Website
The Alchemy Museum, perched above the tourist information office in Kutná Hora, Czech Republic is quite clearly run by one of them. Dressed in garments more suited to a raving hippy than a serious scientist, he has put together a little darkened dungeon that explores the history and aims of alchemy. And it all looks a little bit like a mad scientist's laboratory.
We may mock now, but in times past it was held in as high regard as physics or chemistry. Visitors can learn about kings, dukes and princes that were obsessed with discovering the Elixir of Youth, as well as the meanings of Da Vinci Code-esque mumbo-jumbo like the Philosopher's Stone and Emerald Tablet.
Most of it is predictably unfathomable. After all, if richly-funded alchemists don't know what they're looking for, how are we supposed to know? However, it's a strangely fascinating jaunt through something most people thought died out a long time ago.
Better still, if visitors turn up when it's quiet (which is probably most days - the joint is hardly a major tourist draw), the curator will wander round the museum with them and spin all manner of unlikely stories.
Getting to Kutna Hora
Nearest international airport: Prague, Czech Republic.
Using public transport: It's around an hour on the bus from Prague. The Kutná Hora bus station is just to the north-east of the town's main square. That square is where visitors can find the Tourist Information Centre and Alchemy Museum.
More details: Kutna Horá Alchemy Museum Official Website
Wednesday, 3 September 2008
Pencil Museum in Cumbria, England
The Lake District in Cumbria, Northern England is one of the most beautiful places on earth, perfect for walking through marvellous scenery.
But if it’s raining – and it drizzles/ hammers down almost permanently in the Lake District - indoor attractions are needed. Cleverly, the Cumberland Pencil Museum in Keswick has exploited this gap in the market, pitching itself to frustrated walkers and utter dullards.
Billing itself as the “Perfect All-Weather Attraction”, the museum celebrates 350 years of pencil-making in the area. It include a reconstruction of the mine where the graphite for the pencils is dug out, as well as packaging from yesteryear and the true highlight – the longest coloured pencil in the world.
It’s yellow, by the way.
Alas, its future is not looking too promising. Derwent, the pencil-making company that runs the museum as an add-on, has moved elsewhere in Cumbria to Lillyhall. It’s not known whether it will continue to be viable to have a pencil museum in Keswick. If, of course, it was ever viable in the first place.
Getting to Keswick
Nearest international airport: Liverpool John Lennon, Manchester, Newcastle, Durham Tees-Valley and Glasgow Prestwick are all within a couple of hours’ drive.
Using public transport: Get to Penrith or Workington by train, then take the X4 or X5 bus to Keswick.
More information: Cumberland Pencil Museum
But if it’s raining – and it drizzles/ hammers down almost permanently in the Lake District - indoor attractions are needed. Cleverly, the Cumberland Pencil Museum in Keswick has exploited this gap in the market, pitching itself to frustrated walkers and utter dullards.
Billing itself as the “Perfect All-Weather Attraction”, the museum celebrates 350 years of pencil-making in the area. It include a reconstruction of the mine where the graphite for the pencils is dug out, as well as packaging from yesteryear and the true highlight – the longest coloured pencil in the world.
It’s yellow, by the way.
Alas, its future is not looking too promising. Derwent, the pencil-making company that runs the museum as an add-on, has moved elsewhere in Cumbria to Lillyhall. It’s not known whether it will continue to be viable to have a pencil museum in Keswick. If, of course, it was ever viable in the first place.
Getting to Keswick
Nearest international airport: Liverpool John Lennon, Manchester, Newcastle, Durham Tees-Valley and Glasgow Prestwick are all within a couple of hours’ drive.
Using public transport: Get to Penrith or Workington by train, then take the X4 or X5 bus to Keswick.
More information: Cumberland Pencil Museum
Tuesday, 2 September 2008
Fingerhut Museum in Creglingen, Germany
It is forgivable to think that there isn’t much demand for thimbles any more – after all, not many people need to protect their fingers whilst darning their own clothes these days – but in this small corner of Germany, they’re regarded as an art form.
The Fingerhut Museum has hundreds of them, some 850-year old relics and some elaborately painted and jewelled fashion pieces. For real fans, there are also plenty available for sale in the shop.
The ideal Christmas present for a hyperactive teenager, one would have thought.
More information: Fingerhut Museum
The Fingerhut Museum has hundreds of them, some 850-year old relics and some elaborately painted and jewelled fashion pieces. For real fans, there are also plenty available for sale in the shop.
The ideal Christmas present for a hyperactive teenager, one would have thought.
More information: Fingerhut Museum
Monday, 25 August 2008
Mulhouse’s Wallpaper Museum - Musée de Papier Peint in Rixheim, France
There can be few people in the world who love bizarre museums as much as I do. If it’s focused on a disturbingly specific subject matter and cannot possibly be financially viable to run, then I’m all for it.
But sometimes one of these museums can seem a little bit too dull even to me. Step forward France’s finest (and only) museum of wallpaper
Since 1797, the small municipality of Rixheim (near Mulhouse and the Swiss border) has been based on the manufacture of wallpaper. The craft still continues today and, to celebrate, the Musée de Papier Peint can tell you everything you could possibly wish to know about changing tastes in wallpaper over the centuries. Yawn.
If this somehow strikes as being slightly less than exciting, then true purists will be delighted to hear that the machinery on which the wallpaper is made can also be gazed upon.
Oh yes, and demonstrations take place at 3.30pm on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays during the hectic summer tourist season.
Don’t all rush at once to book a holiday in Mulhouse now, will you?
More information: Musée de Papier Peint
But sometimes one of these museums can seem a little bit too dull even to me. Step forward France’s finest (and only) museum of wallpaper
Since 1797, the small municipality of Rixheim (near Mulhouse and the Swiss border) has been based on the manufacture of wallpaper. The craft still continues today and, to celebrate, the Musée de Papier Peint can tell you everything you could possibly wish to know about changing tastes in wallpaper over the centuries. Yawn.
If this somehow strikes as being slightly less than exciting, then true purists will be delighted to hear that the machinery on which the wallpaper is made can also be gazed upon.
Oh yes, and demonstrations take place at 3.30pm on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays during the hectic summer tourist season.
Don’t all rush at once to book a holiday in Mulhouse now, will you?
More information: Musée de Papier Peint
Sunday, 24 August 2008
Museum of Contraception and Abortion in Vienna, Austria
A short walk from Vienna’s Westbahnhof is a heavy wooden door, almost specifically designed to make people go away. To get through it, you need to press a buzzer, and once finally upstairs you’re ushered into what looks disturbingly like the waiting room of a family planning clinic.
This is the Museum of Contraception and Abortion (though the tourist board literature prefers to leave that last bit out), and it is a bizarre combination of the serious and the frivolous.
Cases are filled with pills and applicators from through the years, while on the walls pie charts and statistics about illegal abortions are opposite cartoons of Victorian types blowing up condoms in some kind of hilarious parlour game.
It covers the whole gamut – diaphragms to sterilisation, via anti-baby lipstick and bidets designed specifically for a post-coital wash. And then there are some implements where it’s probably best to have a limited understanding of German.
Getting to Vienna
Nearest International Airport: Vienna’s airport is well connected to the rest of the world, although budget airline fans can fly into Bratislava just across the border with Slovakia, and take the short train ride in.
Using public transport: The Museum of Abortion and Contraception is just over the busy main road from Vienna Westbahnhof, which is the city’s major train station. It doesn’t really look like a museum, but the address is 37/1 Mariahilfer Gürtel.
More information: Museum website
This is the Museum of Contraception and Abortion (though the tourist board literature prefers to leave that last bit out), and it is a bizarre combination of the serious and the frivolous.
Cases are filled with pills and applicators from through the years, while on the walls pie charts and statistics about illegal abortions are opposite cartoons of Victorian types blowing up condoms in some kind of hilarious parlour game.
It covers the whole gamut – diaphragms to sterilisation, via anti-baby lipstick and bidets designed specifically for a post-coital wash. And then there are some implements where it’s probably best to have a limited understanding of German.
Getting to Vienna
Nearest International Airport: Vienna’s airport is well connected to the rest of the world, although budget airline fans can fly into Bratislava just across the border with Slovakia, and take the short train ride in.
Using public transport: The Museum of Abortion and Contraception is just over the busy main road from Vienna Westbahnhof, which is the city’s major train station. It doesn’t really look like a museum, but the address is 37/1 Mariahilfer Gürtel.
More information: Museum website
Friday, 22 August 2008
Globe Museum in Vienna, Austria
It’s hard to get anything more wholesome than globes, and there are absolutely hundreds of them in the Austrian National Library. Once a private collection, it has now ballooned across an entire floor, and walking in is quite surreal. It’s almost as if someone has gone to the drawing room of every fictional Victorian detective commandeering their globes, then bundled them all willy-nilly into massive glass cabinets. There are 420 of them in total, and just when you think it’s all over, there’s another room with an even higher concentration.
As all good bizarre museums should be, it is ludicrously over-detailed and answers questions you’d never even thought of asking. Has anyone ever seriously thought about how globes are made? Well here you can find out as interactive screens painstakingly go through the process, step by step.
The whole place gives a peek of a whole new world that most of us never knew existed. Making globes is part art, part craft, part science, and old, highly-styled ones are worth a fortune. They date back to 360BC, and a few makers are revered as artists (despite getting countries in the wrong place and covering up parts they didn’t know all that much about with pictures of lions).
One from 1541 is fabulously inaccurate, and we know because an actual map has been superimposed on top of it. Half of Africa is in the Indian Ocean, Jerusalem is in Sudan, New Delhi is where Arabia should be and Tokyo has been transported to Mongolia. Australia, of course, hadn’t been discovered by that time, and is conveniently replaced by a few sea monsters.
Getting to the Globe Museum in Vienna
Nearest international airport: Vienna International Airport.
Using public transport: The Globe Museum at the Austrian National Library can be found in the Palais Mollard, near the Herrengasse U-Bahn station.
As all good bizarre museums should be, it is ludicrously over-detailed and answers questions you’d never even thought of asking. Has anyone ever seriously thought about how globes are made? Well here you can find out as interactive screens painstakingly go through the process, step by step.
The whole place gives a peek of a whole new world that most of us never knew existed. Making globes is part art, part craft, part science, and old, highly-styled ones are worth a fortune. They date back to 360BC, and a few makers are revered as artists (despite getting countries in the wrong place and covering up parts they didn’t know all that much about with pictures of lions).
One from 1541 is fabulously inaccurate, and we know because an actual map has been superimposed on top of it. Half of Africa is in the Indian Ocean, Jerusalem is in Sudan, New Delhi is where Arabia should be and Tokyo has been transported to Mongolia. Australia, of course, hadn’t been discovered by that time, and is conveniently replaced by a few sea monsters.
Getting to the Globe Museum in Vienna
Nearest international airport: Vienna International Airport.
Using public transport: The Globe Museum at the Austrian National Library can be found in the Palais Mollard, near the Herrengasse U-Bahn station.
Monday, 18 August 2008
Tokyo's giant tapeworm - Meguro Parasitological Museum
While other museums would regard Egyptian sarcophagi or priceless artworks as their main highlight, the Meguro Parasitological Museum’s major draw card appears to be a 10 metre tapeworm that was pulled out of some unfortunate soul in Yokohama.
This Tokyo oddity is primarily a privately-funded medical research facility, but still finds space to exhibit over 300 specimens of parasites.
By all accounts, the curators seem genuinely disappointed that their lovable little creatures have had to be preserved – apparently they couldn’t get away with displaying them inside a live animal or human.
It’s difficult to know whether this one is best visited before or after lunch, however.
More information: Meguro Parasitological Museum
This Tokyo oddity is primarily a privately-funded medical research facility, but still finds space to exhibit over 300 specimens of parasites.
By all accounts, the curators seem genuinely disappointed that their lovable little creatures have had to be preserved – apparently they couldn’t get away with displaying them inside a live animal or human.
It’s difficult to know whether this one is best visited before or after lunch, however.
More information: Meguro Parasitological Museum
Galleries of Justice in Nottingham, England
In the courtroom
The door of the dock is closed and the judge stares with a piercing gaze. He seems remarkably young for the job, but there isn’t really time to concentrate on this, as the prosecution lawyer is already launching into me.
In his eyes, I am scum, the lowest of the low, and there is a dreadful sense that this is a show trial. I’m going down, no matter how good my defence is.
For the purposes of this reconstruction, I am George Beck, a bit of a trouble-maker who has finally been collared for burning down a silk mill.
Freedom fighter in a kangaroo court
I’d like to think of myself as a bit of a freedom fighter, a martyr to the cause of getting the vote for the poor and disenfranchised, but this kangaroo court in front of me doesn’t seem to agree.
A public execution on the courthouse steps awaits, as I’m led down the stairs to the cells.
Mock trial in Nottingham, England
This mock trial is all part of the tourist experience at the Galleries of Justice in Nottingham, England.
We’re greeted by an actor in his full Victorian lawyer’s garb, then taken through the history of the courtroom by throwing us all straight into it.
Everyone’s a witness, defendant, officer or member of the press, and we play out a miniature version of Beck’s excuse for a trial.
Beck was just one in a long line of rabble-rousers that has shaped this city’s attitude over the years.
The Reform Act of 1832
His particular bugbear was the House of Lords refusing to pass the Reform Act in 1832, which would have made Britain’s laughable excuse for a democracy of the time a whole lot fairer.
The gentry, of course, didn’t particularly like the idea of giving those ghastly middle classes a say in how the country was run, and blocked it.
Understandably, the bulk of the population wasn’t happy about this and started rioting.
Nottingham took a particularly nasty hit in the melee, with various buildings being set upon by the mob, and the city’s castle being burnt down.
Beck was thought to be behind that torching too.
Prisoners’ quarters
Following the trial in the old courtroom, we get a look at the conditions in the prisoners’ quarters.
We’re greeted by the gaoler, another actor in character. He makes no secret of the fact that if we want decent treatment, we’re going to have to continually grease his palms.
He walks us past all manner of nasty instruments of torture. There are stocks, in which people were put all day, having things thrown at them. There are whips, used to flay backs raw. There are scold’s bridles, which literally hold the tongue, and prevent speech.
The horror of the cells
That’s bad, but then comes the room. Three people share it, and there is room for nothing but the three hammocks.
The prisoners would be expected to live, sleep and eat in this room, and all waste products would stay with them, ready to be cleared out with the bare hands the next morning.
The only natural light is covered by bars, ensuring that it’s unbearably stifling in summer, and intolerably icy in winter.
“And that’s the good room,” the gaoler says, as he takes us further down into the dungeons.
The pit of hell
With no bribes, it seems, you get consigned to hell. It’s a pit, with no light, in which 30-odd men are expected to sleep in a cramped circle, elbow to elbow.
Disease-ridden, sleeping in their own filth, these men had no life at all. True, some of them may have been murderers, but we’re all given a convict number so that we can check what we’ve been sent to this hideous place for.
I stole some linen, and that’s enough to consign me to this fate.
Getting to the Galleries of Justice in Nottingham, England
Nearest International Airport: East Midlands International Airport is the closest, but Birmingham International Airport is a better bet for intercontinental flights.
Using public transport: The Galleries of Justice are on High Pavement, within easy walking distance of both Nottingham train station and the Broadmarsh bus station.
More information: Galleries of Justice
The door of the dock is closed and the judge stares with a piercing gaze. He seems remarkably young for the job, but there isn’t really time to concentrate on this, as the prosecution lawyer is already launching into me.
In his eyes, I am scum, the lowest of the low, and there is a dreadful sense that this is a show trial. I’m going down, no matter how good my defence is.
For the purposes of this reconstruction, I am George Beck, a bit of a trouble-maker who has finally been collared for burning down a silk mill.
Freedom fighter in a kangaroo court
I’d like to think of myself as a bit of a freedom fighter, a martyr to the cause of getting the vote for the poor and disenfranchised, but this kangaroo court in front of me doesn’t seem to agree.
A public execution on the courthouse steps awaits, as I’m led down the stairs to the cells.
Mock trial in Nottingham, England
This mock trial is all part of the tourist experience at the Galleries of Justice in Nottingham, England.
We’re greeted by an actor in his full Victorian lawyer’s garb, then taken through the history of the courtroom by throwing us all straight into it.
Everyone’s a witness, defendant, officer or member of the press, and we play out a miniature version of Beck’s excuse for a trial.
Beck was just one in a long line of rabble-rousers that has shaped this city’s attitude over the years.
The Reform Act of 1832
His particular bugbear was the House of Lords refusing to pass the Reform Act in 1832, which would have made Britain’s laughable excuse for a democracy of the time a whole lot fairer.
The gentry, of course, didn’t particularly like the idea of giving those ghastly middle classes a say in how the country was run, and blocked it.
Understandably, the bulk of the population wasn’t happy about this and started rioting.
Nottingham took a particularly nasty hit in the melee, with various buildings being set upon by the mob, and the city’s castle being burnt down.
Beck was thought to be behind that torching too.
Prisoners’ quarters
Following the trial in the old courtroom, we get a look at the conditions in the prisoners’ quarters.
We’re greeted by the gaoler, another actor in character. He makes no secret of the fact that if we want decent treatment, we’re going to have to continually grease his palms.
He walks us past all manner of nasty instruments of torture. There are stocks, in which people were put all day, having things thrown at them. There are whips, used to flay backs raw. There are scold’s bridles, which literally hold the tongue, and prevent speech.
The horror of the cells
That’s bad, but then comes the room. Three people share it, and there is room for nothing but the three hammocks.
The prisoners would be expected to live, sleep and eat in this room, and all waste products would stay with them, ready to be cleared out with the bare hands the next morning.
The only natural light is covered by bars, ensuring that it’s unbearably stifling in summer, and intolerably icy in winter.
“And that’s the good room,” the gaoler says, as he takes us further down into the dungeons.
The pit of hell
With no bribes, it seems, you get consigned to hell. It’s a pit, with no light, in which 30-odd men are expected to sleep in a cramped circle, elbow to elbow.
Disease-ridden, sleeping in their own filth, these men had no life at all. True, some of them may have been murderers, but we’re all given a convict number so that we can check what we’ve been sent to this hideous place for.
I stole some linen, and that’s enough to consign me to this fate.
Getting to the Galleries of Justice in Nottingham, England
Nearest International Airport: East Midlands International Airport is the closest, but Birmingham International Airport is a better bet for intercontinental flights.
Using public transport: The Galleries of Justice are on High Pavement, within easy walking distance of both Nottingham train station and the Broadmarsh bus station.
More information: Galleries of Justice
Thursday, 14 August 2008
Saga Museum in Reykjavik, Iceland - bloodthirsty Viking history
Iceland has a thoroughly odd history. Much of it is known through sagas, which are longwinded and often exaggerated stories passed down through the generations.
It is mostly from these sagas that we know how Iceland was settled by Scandinavians running away from persecution in their homeland, that the country formed the world’s oldest parliament and that its people all elected to convert to Christianity simultaneously on one day.
This unique form of record-keeping is celebrated in one of Reykjavik’s best museums. The Saga Museum is in a strange building – the Perlan has been made out of huge water tanks, and stands on a hill above the city skyline.
Inside, it is crammed full of waxworks, all of which have been modelled on Reykjavik residents who volunteered to be immortalised as characters from the sagas.
Icelandic history is covered in a reasonable depth – enough to be interesting, and not enough to bore the pants off someone with only a passing interest.
More importantly, it’s all blood and guts. Models have been whacked with axes and riddled with the black death, while just about every character seems up for a fight.
Freakiest of the lot is the scary-eyed woman who is holding a sword to her bare breast, threatening to cut it off.
Getting to the Saga Museum in Reykjavik, Iceland
Nearest international airport: The Saga Museum is very near Reykjavik airport, but that’s only really used for domestic flights. All the major international carriers fly to Keflavik International Airport, around 45 minutes away by bus transfer or taxi.
Using public transport: Perlan and the Saga Museum are walkable from the main street, but it’s probably easier to take bus number 18 from Laekjartorg.
More information: Saga Museum
It is mostly from these sagas that we know how Iceland was settled by Scandinavians running away from persecution in their homeland, that the country formed the world’s oldest parliament and that its people all elected to convert to Christianity simultaneously on one day.
This unique form of record-keeping is celebrated in one of Reykjavik’s best museums. The Saga Museum is in a strange building – the Perlan has been made out of huge water tanks, and stands on a hill above the city skyline.
Inside, it is crammed full of waxworks, all of which have been modelled on Reykjavik residents who volunteered to be immortalised as characters from the sagas.
Icelandic history is covered in a reasonable depth – enough to be interesting, and not enough to bore the pants off someone with only a passing interest.
More importantly, it’s all blood and guts. Models have been whacked with axes and riddled with the black death, while just about every character seems up for a fight.
Freakiest of the lot is the scary-eyed woman who is holding a sword to her bare breast, threatening to cut it off.
Getting to the Saga Museum in Reykjavik, Iceland
Nearest international airport: The Saga Museum is very near Reykjavik airport, but that’s only really used for domestic flights. All the major international carriers fly to Keflavik International Airport, around 45 minutes away by bus transfer or taxi.
Using public transport: Perlan and the Saga Museum are walkable from the main street, but it’s probably easier to take bus number 18 from Laekjartorg.
More information: Saga Museum
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
Icelandic Phallological Museum in Husavik
My biggest regret when I went to Iceland for three days in May 2008 was that I didn’t take the twelve hour round journey from Reykjavik to Husavik.
I was supposedly on a romantic weekend, and explaining such a journey in order to visit the Icelandic Phallological Museum was a tough task.
The northern Icelandic town hosts possibly the most bizarre museum of them all – the Phallological Museum is devoted to the penis. And it has over 240 specimens for the avid todger fan to observe.
This includes every animal from Iceland and Icelandic waters, and details are given of where every reindeer rod, polar bear protrudence and walrus wanger was obtained from.
There’s also a overseas section for foreign phalluses. So those desperate to look at the genitalia of a German badger, New Zealand wallaby or Alaskan ermine are in luck.
One key Icelandic mammal is missing, unfortunately. But never fear – four humans have generously agreed to donate their penises to the museum when they die.
For an even more childish giggle, why not check out the list of ‘Honorary Members’ on the museum’s website?
Getting there:
Nearest international airport: Akureyri is the nearest international airport, but hardly any flights go there. Most visitors are likely to arrive at Keflavik International Airport near the Icelandic capital, Reykjavik.
By public transport: Buses from Reykjavik to Husavik take around six hours and aren’t overly regular. Hiring a car is the best bet.
More information: Icelandic Phallological Museum
I was supposedly on a romantic weekend, and explaining such a journey in order to visit the Icelandic Phallological Museum was a tough task.
The northern Icelandic town hosts possibly the most bizarre museum of them all – the Phallological Museum is devoted to the penis. And it has over 240 specimens for the avid todger fan to observe.
This includes every animal from Iceland and Icelandic waters, and details are given of where every reindeer rod, polar bear protrudence and walrus wanger was obtained from.
There’s also a overseas section for foreign phalluses. So those desperate to look at the genitalia of a German badger, New Zealand wallaby or Alaskan ermine are in luck.
One key Icelandic mammal is missing, unfortunately. But never fear – four humans have generously agreed to donate their penises to the museum when they die.
For an even more childish giggle, why not check out the list of ‘Honorary Members’ on the museum’s website?
Getting there:
Nearest international airport: Akureyri is the nearest international airport, but hardly any flights go there. Most visitors are likely to arrive at Keflavik International Airport near the Icelandic capital, Reykjavik.
By public transport: Buses from Reykjavik to Husavik take around six hours and aren’t overly regular. Hiring a car is the best bet.
More information: Icelandic Phallological Museum
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
