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Refusing to pay $8.50 for an audio guided tour, Chelsea found another way around the problem. In order to hear a detailed description of King Tut's archives you must hover over an incident bystander's shoulder as they put the walkie-talkie to their ear. Through each gallery, we were able to barely make out each of the artifacts details...okay not really, but the fact she was close enough to breath down a stranger's neck was hilarious itself.
The Melbourne Museum on a Thursday afternoon was bombarded with uniformed school children and old fogeys with hearing aids and travel attire. One women even sported an Egyptian-themed sweater, cousin to the ever-popular "ugly christmas sweater". Why didn't I come prepared? Touring the life and remains of King Tutankhamen made me wish I was either Indian Jones or part of Ocean's 11, preparing to rob the vault of its displays. With way too many detailed headdresses, broaches, chest plates and jewellery, my mind couldn't help but wonder. The detailed craftsmanship of each ancient artifact was enough to workup an appetite. Although, there was no eating in the exhibit, both Chelsea and I thought of bribing the security guard with our rations of walnuts and almonds. Perhaps he would be hungry as well. Keeping up with the remainder of our crew, Zaida led us through the history of Melbourne with it's old school, trams, lifestyle and apparel. Don't worry, no sweaters were spotted before 1982. A full day at the museum, we headed to the 3D Tutankhamen movie, which led to passing out under the lenses of our 3D goggles. Peeling ourselves from the comfy couches we hit the science gallery, exploration of the human body, and standing in front of fun house mirrors looking like garden gnomes. Straying away from the rest of the group, both Chelsea and I found the Darwin exhibit quite fascinating. The bright room was lit with a wall of taxidermy, showing animals from all around the world. Feeling like we were about to board Noah's ark, our enjoyment was interrupted just as I was biting into my afternoon snack. A museum employee wearing yet again, another hideous sweater approached me about no eating in the exhibit. The sweater looked like a pelt from one of the taxidermy above us, enough to scare me off apples for life. How did the Egyptians do it? They were beautifully clothed, with each of their life possessions so perfectly crafted and kept for the afterlife. Can you imagine cracking open a mummy and finding that the only thing he held dear was a itchy, wooly sweater? King Tut's life and findings have left anthropologists and scientists stumped for centuries, his early death is still a mystery to this day. Apparently I missed the memo about shopping at garage sales, but with undocumented sweater's on the rise, how can one continue to live? A modern day mystery.
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Dad Filled with wonder like you Bitt