My advice to anyone visiting the Barbican’s Rain Room is to treat the two-hour queue as part of the outing. Bring games, books, a picnic. Bond with your neighbouring queuers. The kids can run off and make friends like they are in a Mediterranean holiday club. You can read a book, sit back, relax.
Don’t turn up there with two children, half a Tommee Tippee of watered-down orange juice, one Maisie book and 23% charge on the iPhone.
Ordinarily I would have about-heeled around as soon as I saw the sign: “Queueing time two hours from this point”. Especially as ‘this point’ was about 20 people away. But we’ve all been house bound by sickness for so long – and I was so proud of myself for having made it this far with just me and the kids and public transport – I couldn’t face the idea of going straight home.
In fact, even with my poor preparation, it wasn’t as awful as it sounds. Gertie slept for most of the 140 minutes; Stan didn’t whinge about being bored too much – and it is pretty cool when you do eventually get in there. Continue reading