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Yesterday morning I dragged our middle daughter out of bed, had a quick breakfast, got wrapped up in warm clothes, and set out towards London together to visit the British Museum. She is about to start a project on the Egyptians at school, and we have used this excuse with each of our children to “do the museums”.

Thankfully “going on trains” is an event in itself, which made the journey towards The British Museum a lot easier than it would otherwise have beenand the flooding of nearby villages by recent storms provided the kind of horrific fascination that only children seem to possess. I should probably mention at this point the fantastic weekend train staff who made a point of stopping and talking to Miss 9 while going about their workasking where she was going, and relating their first memories of the Museums.

Before long we rolled into Paddington Station, and joined the endless stream of people pouring in to the underground. For the first time in living memory our train tickets worked on the turnstiles, and we quickly made our way onto the Circle Line. I was impressedMiss 9 understood the Underground immediatelyconfidently looking at the maps, and informing me which station was next, and how many were left until we needed to change. On the platforms she also kept a running commentary about which direction we needed to walk to the next line, and what colour it was.

We soon arrived at Tottenham Court Road (just around the corner from the British Museum) and I made one of those statements to my little charge that all parents know is a gamble, but thankfully this one paid off”if I've got this right, when we walk out of the underground station, there should be a huge gold man with his fist in the air” (the Freddie Mercury statue on the entrance of the theatre hosting “We Will Rock You”). We climbed the stairs, and there he wastowering over the sea of passers by.

Five minutes walk later (via a newspaper shop to buy a drink, and some sweets), we arrived at the British Museum, which elicited a quiet “Wow”it really is one of the most impressive building entrances in the city.

Immediately after walking in there was a more audible “Wow” when I told her to look up in the airanother wow came after we entered the hall of Egyptian Antiquitiesthe real reason we had made the journey at all.

If you have never visited the British Museum, I implore you to. I've visited a number of museums around the world, and it always stands out as by far the most impressivebeing able to get up close to the many colossal sculptures that tower over the hall takes your breath away. I smiled while watching Miss 9 wander along, mouth hanging open, repeatedly whispering “wow”.

Ancient Egypt, Ancient Rome, Ancient Greece, and the wonderful sculptures from Assyria confronted us each time we turned another corner. Photos really don't communicate the scale or majesty of the artifacts, so I'm not going to load this post with many more.

One artifact I really did want to see was the horses head from the Elgin Marblesthe head that served as the pattern for the first set of Staunton chess pieces, and has become famous ever since.

We spent the entire morning at the British MuseumI could have spent all day therebut I had promised to take Miss 9 to the Natural History Museum too, so after grabbing something to eat, we headed back to the underground.

While walking towards the station I had an idea. “Do you want to see Big Ben?” of course she did. Westminster was kind of en-route to the Natural History Museum, so we set off once again. As is almost always the way in London, a crucial underground station for us to change lines at was shutwhich meant going on a bit of a detour to Waterloo, and back again. We did eventually get to where we wanted to thoughand were greeted by the spectacular clock tower of the Houses of Parliament as we climbed the steps from Westminster station.

On reflection, we were so lucky with the weather. Although it was very cold indeed, the sky remained clear all daywhich of course meant not only that the Clock Tower at Westminster looked amazing, but also that the entrance to the Natural History Museum looked predictably amazing too.

It was bedlam insideand I can understand whyI was dinosaur mad when I was little, and the number of children gazing open mouthed at the various gigantic skeletons were beyond counting. We had a quick look around the less busy areas before joining an unexpected queue for the hall of dinosaurs.“Why is there a queue Dad?“I had an idea, because I knew what awaited at the end of the hall.“They have a real Tyronnosaurus Rexa real, living one”She went white.“Really?“I nodded, and she went very quiet indeed for a few minutes.“Is it in a cage?”“Yesdon't worryit won't eat anybody”.

After quietly queueing along with thousands of others, we eventually made our way into the T-Rex pit, and turned the final corner to meet whatto any child with an active imaginationabsolutely was a real, living, breathing Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Miss 9 couldn't make her mind up if it was real or not, but wasn't taking any chancesshe held onto my leg, and hid behind me for much of the time we were there. By pure chance she took a photo, and the instant the flash went off, his head snapped towards her with a bellowyou've never seen a little girl move so fast in your life.

After learning all about dinosaurs, we made our way (on very tired legs) towards the mammalsI had left them until last because I knew she would love them, and it would distract her from being so tired.

The main hall was predictably awe inspiringthe Blue Whale, the Killer Whales overhead, the elephants, the hippos, the Rhino for the first time all day I had a job keeping up with her as she ran from exhibit to exhibit.

Our final stopof coursewas the Museum shop, where the same little girl that had claimed to be too tired to walk a few moments earlier was suddenly undecided between two cuddly toys, and wasn't tired at all any more.

On the way home I received a text message from my other half;“How about dinner at the pub?“Perfect end to a perfect day. On the way home I was shatteredperhaps just through the stress of taking a small child through London (we had a talk on the way about not wandering off, always holding hands, and so on). Miss 9 talked non stop, all the way home.

Her batteries finally ran out half-way through eating her dinner. I looked at W across the dinner table, pointed at Miss 9, and we both smiled.