Our children have (just about) given up begging us to take them to Disneyland – even Disneyland Paris – but we have been to Legoland Windsor a few times, and have really enjoyed ourselves. The Dafter asked if, during our recent motoring tour of England, we could go again, and we did. Because of time constraints and also her level of fatigue, we only had lunch and went to visit Miniworld, but just doing that was very satisfying. It is really amazing what you can do with Lego:
I appreciated the witty touches: the desperate Lego person on the sign by the handicapped toilet:
There is something so appealing and a bit mad about enormous Lego constructions:
The site itself is very pretty. The park extends down in a sloping valley from the entrance. From the top, there’s a beautiful view. Windsor Castle was clearly visible the day we went, and to the right of this photo we could also see the London landmarks.
For my American readers – are you as surprised as I was that a Lego Mt. Rushmore dominates Miniworld? I presume this isn’t intended as a political statement:
Miniworld, while not representing every corner of the globe (I wonder whether they will begin work on some of the developing nations sometime?), presents landmarks of Europe on a small scale. Here is part of the London section. Seeing St. Paul’s cathedral and Big Ben made out of Lego is really quite something. As a gardener, I was fascinated by the tiny “trees” and the use of alpines to provide flowers:
We were also very interested in the Scotland section. Below is a Lego version of Blair Atholl castle. What you can’t see in the still photo is that the Highland dancers were dancing up and down on their platform (to the music of the bagpipes), the Tug-of-War would make an occasional shift from one side to another, and a wee train would occasionally come past on the train track. There was also, in one of the Highland glens, a helicopter rescuing a stranded climber.
Here is Sweden. I’ve never been there in real life (alas) so I can’t make the comparison, but I thought it was quite funny that they had an Abba concert going in the wee open stage at the back:
I thought these replicas of Belgian buildings were really breath-taking:
The wheelchair was invaluable for our visit. The Dafter had wondered how people would treat her in a wheelchair. “People keep smiling at me,” she said. “They don’t usually.” We reckoned it’s because when she’s walking around, people just see a teenager in a hoodie. But in the wheelchair, she’s obviously harmless, or perhaps seen as an object of pity. A sad comment on our society – but I don’t exempt myself from it. The other day, she and I were out (yes!) and a man was walking towards us with his carer. He looked very unkempt and was shouting and gesticulating a bit wildly. The Dafter was frightened, so we crossed the street. As we passed them, she said, “I thought he was drunk – but it’s just that there’s something wrong with him. I feel so terrible that I judged someone just on appearances!”
Not judging on appearances is the work of a lifetime, I personally think. I pointed out to her that even this frustrating illness of ME contains some hidden gifts for her and for all our family.