Museum of Flight

This afternoon we spent a pleasant few hours at the Museum of Flight, just a little south of Seattle. They have lots of rockets and aircraft, and a history of the development of flight that handily omits anything that wasn’t done by Americans, bless em. Or maybe I’m bitter because we weren’t allowed to walk inside the Concorde today.
We were allowed inside Air Force One, where I discovered the Presidential toilet was no better than any other airline toilet, and also that there was a "Fake Temperature Control Button" which was presumably to give the most powerful man on earth something to do to distract him.

Mostly, a fun time. Lots and lots of planes to look at, although Destroyer got in a rage at times (as Destroyer does) and wanted to go to a (possibly imaginary) kids area. The museum is not as interactive as museums I’m used to in the UK, although it had two areas where the kids could run around and shout (which, obviously, were their highlights, rather than silly old planes).

We left without buying too much tat in the gift shop, and had the usual screaming tantrum from Destroyer when she had to eat her dinner at 6pm. Otherwise, all good…

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