Not only does it have animatronics (and you know how I love those. No furry animals, though), but it has informative commentary and good displays that you can touch, smell and even try on. (There was a load of period hats and other clothes in one room.) There was even a recipe card for ye boringe olde Englishe foode so you, too, can live a malnourished life like the Lord Protector of England. (He died a natural death, but was exhumed, hanged and beheaded, just to make triply sure that he was no longer a going concern.)The only thing I'd have liked more of was history of the Revolution and republic, not knowing much about it, but they assume visitors will already know it all. The video presentation, for example, just talked about Oli the bloke. They made this as authentic as possible, though, narrating it in the character of a servant with a fierce and incomprehensible regional accent. This really helped the viewer understand how Mr C must have felt when he asked his servant something and was none the wiser afterwards. Of course, it may be that Cromwell had a similar accent and so understood everything his servant said. It's unlikely anyone understood *him* in this case. This would mean the entire civil war thing was probably just due to a communication breakdown.
This tour was capped off by one of Ely Cathedral, a real beauty and dating to the 11th Century. Unfortunately, Henry VIII, when he wanted to "dump his slapper", as they said in those days, caused the split with the RC church. He then ordered the dissolution of the monasteries and the removal of all the colourful paints that once covered the interiors of cathedrals to be scraped off. I hadn't realised before that these places weren't just big, barren stone places, but were actually kitted out to be friendly and welcoming. Some traces of colour are still left, but after several hundred years it's a tiny bit faded.The Victorians came through and revitalised the place some time later (it had apparently gone to the dogs) but there is a lot of original Norman left in the structure. The Normans, though, weren't the best in this department. The place has hollow walls filled with rubble, which is causing them to bulge. Also, various bits fell down several times. Mainly roof structures, but also the northwest transept in 14something. They never rebuilt this bit (current replacement cost £54m), and this is a little surprising considering the medieval love for rebuilding. Take the bridge at Avignon (Pont St Bénézet) for example:
This guy (a shepherd called Bénézet) says the Virgin Mary tells him in a vision to whack up a bridge across the river at such-and-such a spot. He does this, but it collapses. No worries, I'll bung up another and she'll be apples (he says to himself, in the idiom of the time). Not long after, that also crashes into the Rhône. (He became a saint for this. Whether it's because he had a vision or if he's the patron saint of unstable bridges, I don't know. If it's the latter, the designer of the bridge at Tacoma Narrows must be vying for his patron saint job! But if you just need to have visions, then my mate Mark in Brisbane must be the holiest guy in town.) This goes on for around 500 years until someone finally has the brainwave: Maybe this spot isn't too flash. Let's leave the half-a-bridge up and charge people a fiver to get to the middle of the river only.
Hope you enjoyed the history lesson. (A tad longer than I'd planned, but that's what happens when you procrastinate.) Let me know if you didn't and you'll never hear from me again. Ha ha!
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