The Roald Dahl Museum and Story Centre @ Great Missenden

The museum

The Roald Dahl Museum and Story Centre is a museum in the village of Great Missenden in Buckinghamshire, the South of England. Children’s novelist and adult short story writer Roald Dahl lived in the village for 36 years until his death in 1990. During that time he became famous around the world, mostly for his best-selling children’s books although he did write quite a few short stories for adults on very adult themes (witness the two hefty Penguin paperback volumes of the Complete Short Stories).

But it was for children’s books like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The BFG, Matilda, Danny the Champion of the World and that he became famous. At the peak of his success the local post office delivered 4,000 letters a week from young fans around the world.

After Dahl’s death, his widow, his wider family, his publishers and better-off fans all agreed it would be good to create some kind of memorial to the great man. However, the house he actually lived in and the garden where he built the famous writing shed which he worked in every day, had passed into private hands.

Then in the 2000s a derelict coaching inn and stable complex in Great Missenden High Street came on the market. The Roald Dahl trustees had the very imaginative idea of buying it and converting it into a child-focused museum, gallery, cafe and interactive space to celebrate Dahl’s life and work and to inspire new generations of storytellers.

The comprehensively refurbished space opened as the Roald Dahl Museum and Story Centre in 2005.

Front of the Roald Dahl Museum (Photo courtesy The Roald Dahl Museum and Story Centre)

Front of the Roald Dahl Museum (Photo courtesy The Roald Dahl Museum and Story Centre)

The Museum is aimed at 6 to 12 year-olds and their families. It has three galleries along the side of the attractive cobbled yard, as well as a café and a lunch room for school trips.

Children getting creative in the Roald Dahl museum

Children getting creative in the Roald Dahl Museum

Of the three galleries, ‘Boy’ focuses on the book of the same name which describes Dahl’s boyhood adventures and experiences. ‘Solo’ features his RAF flying days and moves onto his life in Great Missenden, including an evocative recreation of the writing hut Dahl built in the garden of his house, stuffed with the cosy bric-a-brac which made him feel at home.

Inside Roald Dahl's original Writing Hut

Inside Roald Dahl’s original Writing Hut (Photo courtesy The Roald Dahl Museum and Story Centre)

And there’s a story centre room with crayons and paper etc where children are encouraged to create their own stories, or can gather round on the floor to discuss and share ideas.

From the museum’s bright and colourful displays I learned that:

  • Roald is pronounced Rooo-arl.
  • He was Norwegian, at least his parents were. Roald was born in Wales, in Llandaff outside Cardiff, and sent to a prep school across the Bristol Channel in England, before going on to Repton, a public school in the Midlands.
  • He was unusually tall at 6 foot six. He joined the RAF at the outbreak of the war and his fighter plane cockpit had to be adjusted for him.
The RAF section of the museum

The RAF section of the museum with a model of the kind of fighter plane he flew

He crash landed his plane in the Libyan desert and was lucky to survive; as a result, his back gave him trouble for the rest of his life. But he continued as an air ace, shooting down enemy planes for another year until finally being invalided out of the RAF in 1941. After more medical check-ups, he was sent to the USA to promote the war effort and persuade America to join the Allies.

There’s a striking photo here of tall, handsome, uniformed Roald striding next to an overweight, jowly grey-haired Ernest Hemingway.

It was a chance meeting with the adventure novelist C. S. Forester, who suggested Dahl write about his wartime experiences. The result was his first story, retelling the story of his desert crash and introducing the idea that he was shot down, which was published in the Saturday Evening Post.

The rest is the usual story of a writer’s long warfare with publishers and critics, editors of magazines and journals, until he had established himself as a writer of cruel and sardonic short stories.

Very roughly speaking Dahl wrote short stories for adults for 15 years after the war, brought together in collections like Kiss Kiss and Switch Bitch. It was only in 1961 that Dahl published his first ‘novel’ for children, and what a succession of brilliant children’s fictions then poured from his pen!

  • James and the Giant Peach 1961
  • Charlie and the Chocolate Factory 1964
  • Fantastic Mr Fox 1970
  • Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator 1972
  • Danny, the Champion of the World 1975
  • The Enormous Crocodile 1978
  • My Uncle Oswald 1979
  • The Twits 1980
  • George’s Marvellous Medicine 1981
  • The BFG 1982
  • The Witches 1983

I really liked the presentation of all this in the museum. There are blown-up photos, a timeline, models, books and illustrations and notes, it’s all big and bright and attractive and interesting, and all the time there is the voice of Dahl himself reading extracts from relevant books. Thus the first room, Boy, features Dahl reading out descriptions of key incidents and adventures from the book of the same name describing his childhood.

Billy and the Minpins

There’s a small space devoted to changing exhibitions. Currently they’re displaying 14 illustrations by Quentin Blake for Dahl’s last children’s book, Billy and the Minpins. These are, as all of Blake’s illustrations, magical, and beneath each one is displayed the relevant snippet of the original hand-written manuscript of the story in Dahl’s spidery handwriting.

Cover of Billy and the Minpins by Quentin Blake

Cover of Billy and the Minpins by Quentin Blake

The shop

There’s a massive shop, featuring a wide range of merchandise as well as DVDs of all the movies made from his books, a wall of wonderful prints of some Quentin Blake illustrations and, for me, most impressive of all, a wall of his books, not only the children’s books but a range of short story collections, including the famous Tales of the Unexpected, televised in the 1980s, as well as the surprising amount of non-fiction which he wrote.

Walks

The shop is a mine of information and the staff are very knowledgeable and happy to answer questions. They also give out free leaflets describing two walks you can do: one is a tour of the village of Great Missenden, taking in places and buildings which feature in the stories; the other is a longer walk across the railway line and up to the nearby woods where Dahl took his own children to play and ramble when they were small.

I went on both walks and describe them in my walking blog. The most striking feature of Great Missenden High Street is probably the beautifully preserved vintage petrol pumps which feature in Danny The Champion of the World.

The petrol pumps in Great Missenden High Street

The petrol pumps in Great Missenden High Street

Set half a mile away from the village, on the side of a hill overlooking the valley of the little River Misbourne is the church of St Peter & St Paul, where Dahl is buried.

Church of St Peter & St Paul, Great Missenden

Church of St Peter & St Paul, Great Missenden

It’s worth mentioning that there’s currently a Chilterns Walking Festival which runs till 1 October, with lots of group walks and other activities taking place all across the region.

Great Missenden is only a 45-minute train journey from Marylebone station and the museum is a simple five-minute walk down the old High Street. What with the village walk and the opportunity for a picnic up in the woods, this makes a wonderful day out for families with small children who love any of Dahl’s books.


Related links

Walk: Churt

20 May 2012

Churt is a small village on the western, Hampshire, border of Surrey. In fact it’s a linear settlement straddling the A287 which runs from Farnham south to Haslemere. To the east the land is raised heathland, leading to the famous landmark, the Devil’s Punchbowl. The soil is infertile and acid, supporting heather, gorse, conifers and, around the many plush houses hidden down private drives, banks of rhododendrons. The eastern part of the walk was along lanes with names like  Crabtree Lane, Old Barn Lane, Green Lane.

The best bit was to the west of the A road where the land fell away steeply into Whitmoor Vale, giving views across and along the Vale of uninterrupted forest.

View across Whitmoor Vale

View across Whitmoor Vale

Down by the thin straggling Whitmoor stream were damp deciduous woodlands and muddy paths  lined by wildflowers. The bluebells and buttercups are fading, but greater stitchwort, garlic mustard were everywhere, along with great swathes of ramson, sending their strong damp garlic scent in all directions.

Ramsons

Ramsons

Close up of Ramson flowerhead

Close up of Ramson flowerhead

Walk: Cranleigh

12 May 2012

By train to Ockley in Surrey, a few stops south of Dorking. Cycled 6 miles to Cranleigh through the villages of Ewhurst and Forest Green. For the first few miles the tower of Leith Hill was continuously in sight and in the sunshine, revealed by a clearing in the trees on the ridge. Somehow comforting. St Margaret’s church, Ockley. St Peter and St Paul, Ewhurst. Cranleigh styles itself the biggest village in England. I didn’t like the high street, disfigured by all the usual chain stores, nor the leisure centre and scrappy playground at the end of a tarmac cul-de-sac. Here the 30 mile long muddy Downs Link path comes to a temporary end, obliterated by a shopping centre. But…

But walk back along the sports centre track to Knowle Lane, turn left, and in a hundred yards you come to a gap in the hedge on the right. Walk through it and this is what you see.

Knowle Park, Cranleigh

Knowle Park, Cranleigh

Knowle Park is a white Victorian mansion, built on a commanding bluff, overlooking miles of farmland to the distant North Downs, now converted into a care and retirement home. The walk skirts the edge of the grounds with magnificent views in every direction.

view of Knowle Park

view of Knowle Park

Reluctantly you leave the views behind upon joining Alfold Road, stroll along a few hundred yards before turning down a gravel drive to the impressive Utworth Manor. Through a gate into fields, across an old wooden bridge and you reach the lazy Wey and Arun canal, built in the 1810s and abandoned as long ago as 1870, lined with trees, a haven for wildflowers and a wonderful walk.

footpath beside the Wey and Arun canal

footpath beside the Wey and Arun canal

Everywhere I saw red campion, little blue germander speedwell, greater stitchwort and – a flower new to me – ground ivy. After half a mile the canal ends and becomes the dry moat for a farmhouse. You cross an ancient brick bridge decorated with lichen, and squelch through boggy fields to a fine timbered house, Great Garson.

Great Garson

Great Garson

In a pond I saw marsh marigolds and next to it red and purple orchids. The drive brings you back to Alfold road, open views of wide fields, with a little verge of bluebells, beneath an English summer sky…

view from Alford road, Cranleigh

view from Alford road, Cranleigh

…and then into bluebell woods lining Lion’s Lane, a half a mile ambling track through old woods. Across a few grassy fields belonging to Snoxhall Farm, and up steps onto the embankment which formerly carried the Cranleigh to Guildford railway. Closed in the 1960s this now forms a long straight section of the Down Links path. Half a mile of ferns and dog violets and you’re back in Cranleigh.

Cycling back to Ockley station, I was struck by this very red example of Surrey architecture, note the decorative brickwork and hanging tiles. It was not a rich man’s house, which made the effort which had clearly gone into building and decorating it all the more striking.

Surrey architecture, on the Ockley road

Surrey architecture, on the Ockley road

For photos of the flowers I saw on this walk, go to English Wild Flowers.

Walk: Albury Park

7 May 2012

Just as I stepped off the train at Clandon it started to rain. I thought I’d figured a neat short cut to Albury without quite realising it involved cycling over the North Downs. In the rain. With the wind in my face. Still it was downhill on the other side to Silent Pool, where I locked the bike and strolled through the Victorian village of Albury, all decorated brick, mock Tudor chimneys and – if you looked closely enough – wild flowers in the rain.

Forget-me-nots in Albury

Forget-me-nots in Albury

Up the hillside to the Victorian church of St Peter and St Paul. Strange how ugly Victorian churches can be. A pile of red bricks surrounded by dismal cracked flagstones, it felt like a factory or a workhouse. Reminded me of the horrible brick church in the village where I grew up, Chavey Down. And the vast empty barn of a church round the corner from me, St Thomas’s, Streatham Hill. But in the rainy churchyard there were primroses and cowslips.

Primroses in the graveyard of St Peter's church, Albury

Primroses in the graveyard of St Peter’s church Albury

Up a deep muddy country lane in the rain to Albury Warren, conifer woods at the top, then through a gate into the 150 acre grounds of Albury Park, still dominated by  its Victorian mansion, the hillside landscaped with rhododendrons, and more flowers: I saw goose grass, dog’s mercury, white dead nettle, archangel, scads of dandelions but not many bluebells.

Wood cranesbill in Albury Warren

Wood cranesbill in Albury Warren

Finally, I escaped the rain in the historic Saxon church of St Peter and St Paul. This used to be the heart of the village till the early Victorian landowner turfed the villagers out, rebuilding their village a mile to the West. That explains why modern Albury is so Victorian in feel, and explains the horrible ‘new’ Albury church he built for them. He let the original medieval church slowly decay, till it was saved and restored in the 1920s and is now open to visitors, bare empty inside, except for a rare medieval wall painting – of St Christopher – and the florid family chapel designed by Augustus Pugin.

William Oughtred was rector here for 50 years in the 17th century. Who he? The leading mathemetician of his day who invented the slide rule in 1622, introduced the ‘x’ symbol for multiplication, and was tutor to Sir Christopher Wren. All that and a sermon every Sunday!

Moreover, Robert Malthus, the man who invented the gloomy Malthusian economics which dominated Victorian England, wrote his famous book here, ‘An Essay on the Principle of Population’. It’s well worth reading in order to grasp the impact it had over the entire succeeding century. It was one spur for the drafting of the Poor Laws which led to the Victorian Workhouses which Dickens so railed against, and which Albury church so balefully reminded me of.

Malthus’s impact was felt not only here but in Britain’s Imperial colonies. In his wonderful book on Kipling, Charles Allen points out that it was the insistence of the Viceroy to India, Lord Lytton, appointed by Disraeli, that doctrinaire free market and Malthusian principles were followed during the famines of the later 1870s – directly causing the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Indians from starvation – that led to the founding of the Indian National Congress and the beginnings of the struggle for independence. Malthus hovered over all Victorian thought like the threat of nuclear annihilation dominated the later 20th century…

England has such depth, such resonance.  All this history and significance packed into a little stone building by a tiny gurgling stream (the ‘river’ Tilling). And the pretty flowers, blowing all around in the steady English rain…

Greater stitchwort, Albury Park

Greater stitchwort, Albury Park

Walk: Charlwood circular

25 March 2012

Half an hour from Clapham Junction is Horley, a sad, characterless town centre, surrounded by wide avenues of discreetly plush houses, and then, beyond the encircling A roads, quiet villages of thatched and Tudor cottages.

15 minutes cycle brings me to Charlwood with its fabulous church of St Nicholas, complete with original medieval wall paintings. Then across fields, behind paddocks, along a road, all rather boring, but you have, without realising it, climbed up Russ Hill and now, suddenly, you turn into Mount Noddy Wood, a few wonderful acres of ancient, broad-leaved woodland, open, with no brambles or undergrowth, just miles of bright green bluebell shoots burgeoning from the grey and brown leaf litter, overarched by slender birch and beech trees, many of which have been pollarded to the ground making the multiple trunks twisted and sinuous as if they’ve frozen in mid-dance. Steps down a steep gully to the little bridge over Welland Gill, where I stopped for my picnic. Complete peace. Utter solitude, the sun filtering through the branches and glittering on the muddy little English stream. Magical!

Steps down to the bridge over Welland Gill in Mount Noddy Wood

Steps down to the bridge over Welland Gill in Mount Noddy Wood

Walk: Westcott circular

10 March 2012

Three hours walking into the hills behind Westcott, a few miles west of Dorking. Saw lesser celandines, primroses, dog’s mercury, lords and ladies, daffs, carpets of snowdrops, blossom everywhere, and the white cotton buds of pussy willow.

Walked through Mad Horse Copse and up to the lovely Wolvens Lane, running along a ridge with fields falling sharply away to the south west, and views north east to the scarp face of the North Downs, the track itself lined with ancient beech trees. A fragment of heaven. And finally a secret gate among rhododendrons leading to Holy Trinity churchyard where I sat and finished reading Edmund Blunden’s memoir, ‘Undertones of War’, and then dozed in the March sunshine.

Holy Trinity church, Westcott

Holy Trinity church, Westcott

Walk: Fulwell to Bushy Park

27 February 2012

A birthday in the family so after cake and presents, everyone goes for a big walk from Fulwell to Kingston through Bushy Park with its waterfalls, woods and deer, on a beautiful blue Spring day.

Snowdrops beginning to blow, crocuses in full bloom, daffodil stems everywhere, and pink camellias in abundance.

Bushey Park

Bushey Park

Walk: Hadrian’s Wall

23 February 2012

For half term with my son to Durham (for Eucharist at the cathedral), Newcastle (for a few days history and sightseeing), then out to Hadrian’s Wall for a week of long walks along it and through Northumberland’s big, boggy, windswept openness.

Hadrian's Wall near Housesteads

Hadrian’s Wall near Housesteads

Walk: Godstone circular

4 February 2012

To East Surrey for a circular walk starting at the village pond in Godstone, past Bay Pond with its frozen weir, to Church Town, the cluster of buildings round St Nicholas Church, with the striking Tudot/Gothic St Mary almshouse created by Sir George Gilbert Scott who lived locally and restored anything which couldn’t move fast enough.

A half hour walk through woods and more frozen ponds to St Peter’s, Tandridge with its shingle bell tower supported by 4 massive oak beams, supposedly as old as the church ie from the 1300s. It was the coldest day of the year and snow lay all around. By now I couldn’t feel my fingers, so eating my sandwich got pretty messy.

Back through fields and then a path through Godstone Farm, well known to families for its children’s farm and exotic animals. For the second week running the sun didn’t come out and it was truly bitter all day. At dusk it started to snow.

St Peter's church, Tandridge

St Peter's church, Tandridge

Walk: Ockley to Horley, Surrey

29 January, 2012

50 minutes from Clapham Junction and two stops south of Dorking on the Surrey/Sussex border is the isolated Victorian railway station at Ockley.

Here I saw my first stand of flowering snowdrops. Later I saw flowering crocuses, primroses and a solitary dandelion. Has Spring ever been so early?

This was meant to be a 4 mile circular walk through the fields surrounding the pretty village of Capel, but I got the bit between my teeth and decided to make it a 9 mile linear walk to Horley. It turned into a walk through muddy fields, grey woods, punctuated by four notable churches:

  • the 13th century St John the Baptist, Capel with its oak shingle spire (not much stone round here so everything was built of wood)
  • St Peter, Newdigate where I sat and ate lunch in the shadow of another wooden shingle spire
  • the best of the bunch, St Nicholas, Charlwood with its short squat stone tower and wonderful medieval wall paintings complete with dragon and skeletons (!)
  • and finally, after trudging along the muddy banks of the river Mole as it skirts the perimeter of Gatwick airport, amid the thundering A roads and airport hotels, a small oasis of Elizabethan buildings around the Grade I listed St Bartholomew, Horley.

For a walk so close to a major airport, most of the route was amazingly quiet. The dead woods still and spooky. Then fields of heavy clay, with vast muddy puddles. Then long farmtracks of flint and chalk. In Green’s Copse a sudden movement scared me and I realised it was four deer I had startled, leaping silently between the grey skeletal trees.

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