In the Post

I had planned on a visit to Sir John Soane's museum and saw that tickets couldn't be purchased in advance but had to be purchased at the museum. There are a number of special tours offered at various times during the day, but they have to booked in the house after you have entered, ie. "please sign up for the tour in the dining room." I arrived shortly after the museum opened but by that time there was already a very long queue and a sign that advised that from the end of the line there was at least an hour's wait. Hmm. It was chilly and I wasn't feeling particularly patient. I had thought that I would drop into the Postal Museum for a few minutes if there was time after John Soane's, so I decided to start there instead and return to John Soane's later. It was only about a 10 minute walk and along the way I passed a bit of postal street art.

I honestly didn't expect the museum to be that compelling, but once inside I found myself fascinated by it; the history, the artifacts, the stories were really interesting. There were displays of old pillar boxes - this one was from the reign of Queen Victoria. You can tell their approximate vintage by the initials of the monarch on the top.

One unusual story involved the horses of a mail coach being attacked by a lioness!

There were examples of old greeting cards, including a very unusual one from a soldier in World War I.

Different types of vehicles used to deliver the mail were displayed

and there were even working pneumatic tubes, the type of which were once used to send mail from the central office in London to Parliament, the Stock Exchange, and other important places.

Predictably, my favorite display was all about the cats that served in an official capacity in the post offices. They were "hired" to keep vermin away from the mail and were actually paid a salary.

There was even a postal cat, Tibs, who was immortalized in a book.

He weighed in at 23 pounds and kept the post office headquarters mouse-free for all 14 years of his tenure. His photo appeared in a 1953 book "Cockney Cats" and when he died, his obit appeared in the London newspapers.

The very best part of the museum was the little cinema area which showed archival footage courtesy of the BBC. Among the films was a short humorous documentary from 1979 reporting on the cats who were employed to protect the mail from the ravages of mice and rats, seen through the lens of the 1970s industrial relations situation - hilarious! Another, about the mail service between London and Edinburgh featured a script by W.H. Auden and music by Benjamin Britten, presented in a poetic style that reminded me of early rap (with better music.) My favorite, though, was a musical film from 1936 encouraging people to sign up for telephone service, "The Fairy of the Phone."

The films alone were worth the price of admission, but there was another treat awaiting me: a ride on the Mail Rail, the underground train that used to carry the mail between sorting stations.

Once you've folded yourself up into the tiny carriage, you're taken on a ride through time. At each station stop there's a short film about the postal service through the decades. I will admit, though, that it was a bit of a challenge unfolding myself and getting out.

There are few exhibits after the train ride, one of which I found fascinating. It was a 1936 film called "Night Train" which told how the mail was collected from various points on the route from London to Edinburgh. Leather pouches were affixed to a spring-loaded device and then pushed out next to the track. On the train, a rope basket would catch the pouches and throw them into the train car where they would be unloaded and the mail sorted.

Engineering at its finest!

So as it turned out, my disappointment at not getting into Sir John Soane's house turned into a surprisingly enjoyable afternoon at an unusual spot that celebrates a service we all take for granted.