Fran and I had been quite excited about this event for a while, after I read about it on the Leeds’ Guardian blog. When we arrived at Wakefield’s City Museum, at what we understood to be the starting time for Sir Attenborough’s museum-opening speech, we were left disappointed and bewildered, staring in through walls of glass at a speech already in full swing that we couldn’t even hear. Sure, it was nice to see his expressive limb-gestures in real life, but the overbearing feeling of crowding around an exciting exhibit at the zoo was too much.
We tried then to line up (crowd up) in the hopes of getting an autograph and meeting with the man himself – Fran had a blank Mother’s Day card, and I a sweet clem – but we were left with frazzled hair in our eyes, strong aftershave/perfume in our noses, and too much stranger pressed against us. I managed to get these snaps of his face doing what it does:
Then the security men shut the doors after a burly man tried to force his way into the signing room. It was a deflating time.