Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery

Trafalgar Square is one that boasts dignified buildings stood proud and historical as far as the eye can see. It boasts an electric feel of first timers and tradition-goers that are attracted to its turquoise fountain and noble lions. It's also home to the National Gallery.

London is such an encouraging city to live in, particularly for the youth of the population (though you can never be too old to learn). We are reminded about people and places on almost every street: whether that be on plaques that cling onto houses or by the paths that meander through the parks. Our eyes are exposed to both history and the present day in one harmonious setting.

Nothing is more accurate of this description than the museums and galleries alike that are scattered throughout London. I decided, as it was but a stone's throw, to visit the National Gallery.

The National Gallery

Nelson's Column and Hahn/Cock

Exploring the streets in the area (cheeky photobomb by St. Paul's Cathedral)

I wonder if Nelson was afraid of heights

People watching in Trafalgar Square

Charing Cross: the closest tube station

The National Gallery is exquisite. Don't let the bustling pockets of tourists put you off visiting - the crowd is bound to disperse as each person is drawn to different works of art. You walk into rooms that display works of Guardi and Canaletto and others that whisper the story of Lady Jane Grey and her unfortunate fate.

I faintly remember first visiting the National Gallery at the fresh age of 5. My dad had made a tradition of visiting museums as a pair whilst my mum and sister made plans with relatives. We visited The Science Museum and The Natural History Museum - I even remember filling out a form for a year's subscription to the going's on and events!

But the National Gallery was a different story for a 5 year old - it didn't have pieces you could touch and dinosaurs you could bend your neck back in a struggle to see. It seemed quiet and serene and I actually really hated it.

I remember my dad picking me up and trying to point to 'interesting' features of paintings like the sour-faced gent in the corner on one knee, or the baby that was completely naked. I remember pretending to be interested, but I also remember becoming increasingly fed up and agitated at all this information that my father thought was fun. I recently asked my dad about the trip and although it felt like hours, apparently I didn't even last 50 minutes.

Shame, I thought, as I studied The Stone Mason's Yard and squinted to see the expression in the labourer's faces.

Shame, I thought, as I stood opposite Philip IV of Spain, suddenly becoming aware of my poor posture.

Shame, I thought, as I struggled to think what my dad would have thought of the crowd of people in Pablo Panini's work that waited on the lottery draw.

I wish that as a 5 year old I could understand what he was talking about and question him about his feelings instead of him trying to keep me interested when I'd float towards the chairs in the middle of the room.

I'm glad I took the time to re-visit, and maybe even see it as my dad did back in 2000. 13 years have passed since and the generations continue to repeat - I saw a child drawing on the paper map of the museum whilst the adults waltzed around and thought, 'that would have been me had my dad given me some paper!'

I hope she visits again a decade or two from now, and I hope she realises what I have. Although it's a peculiar setting to be in, it's almost too quiet and you are bound to have an awkward 'where do I even stand' situation, the percentage of interesting is almost incomparable to anything we teens today can vouch for.

But maybe it's not for you, and that's okay - maybe you're into robots or stuff that moves or music or food, even. And I'm sure there's a museum for that too.

L.

(Here are a couple of links to museums that are completely free - I hope someday you too are able to enjoy them: The V&A, The Natural History, The Science Museum, The British)