Crowd-limited British Museum is a rare treat for advance bookers

Under normal circumstances, it's hard to get a good look at the Rosetta Stone. Sure, admission to the British Museum is free and it stands in its own display case in a prominent location. But the tourists are usually 10 deep. School children block the way with notebooks they hold before them to complete class assignments. Group tours are shepherded around it by guides. Aggressive photographers elbow you out of the way to get the right shot. It's been years since I've bothered to take a good look at this monumental bit of history. The crush just wasn't worth it.

No longer.

One of the silver linings of Covid-19's cloud is the visitor experience at cultural attractions. Though pre-booking is a hassle and the limited numbers are killing institutional finances, the situation has created an idyllic environment for the thoughtful visitor.  The British Museum is a case in point. 

The limited number of tickets per time slot ensures plenty of distance between you and other visitors, meaning galleries are sparsely populated and ... since the UK's "rule of six" eliminates the possibility of school groups ... remarkably quiet. Though I'm a British Museum member and know the place well, the circumstances revealed new wonders. I usually push through the ground floor Egyptian galleries on my way somewhere else; they're always too noisy and crowded to enjoy. This time, I could stand alone in pools of dappled sunlight, look into the faces of long-dead pharaohs and have space to contemplate. 

I lingered with the Elgin marbles appreciating the nuances of drapery over the human form. I took time in the Enlightenment Gallery to peer onto shelves and read labels. I still moves fast through the Aztec section, where bloodthirsty gods in dim lighting are even creepier when you're alone with them.

The real genius of the current situation, however, may be the enforced one-way system, which drives traffic through some galleries that most visitors usually race through in their determination to cover the star sights, or skip altogether. (Detail-oriented readers may remember I've raged against set museum routes in the past, particularly at the Uffizi, but in the current circumstances this works.) The route includes the oft-missed early Greek galleries, where a massive and rare terracotta sarcophagus deserves more fame, the never-missed Elgin marbles, and the stately Neried monument. Sitting in front of the last is a fascinating modern work by Grayson Perry called the Tomb of the Unknown Craftsman, which imagines a ceremonial burial ship for all of the nameless artisans who made the treasures in the collections here. The ship is clad with plaster casts that echo masterpieces from around the museum, bringing every artistic tradition together in the celebration of the act of creation itself. It's spectacular.

On the other side of the building you can explore the Americas gallery where you can see an array of Native American costumes and artefacts that many museums in the "Wild West" would envy. There are those spooky Aztecs, and the Enlightenment Galleries which were originally built for George III and represent the museum's collections in miniature. 

But the greatest triumph of the enforced route will be increased traffic through the African galleries, often missed because of their basement location. 

These rooms bring together art, furniture and textiles from across the continent, though they're light on Egypt and Islamic North Africa since those cultures are amply represented in their own galleries. The greatest masterpieces here are the Benin Bronzes, gorgeous casts of human heads, animals and ceremonial scenes created in the 1500s. The most remarkable are a set of plaques showing palace life and ritual that once decorated the palace of the king. They're also probably the most contentious of all objects in the museum as, unlike the legally purchased Elgin Marbles, these were undeniably the legacy of an aggressive campaign of looting at the end of violent conflicts in the late 19th century. 

More than 80 museums around the world ... but outside Nigeria ... now own treasures removed in those wars. An organisation called the Benin Dialogue Group, in which the British Museum plays an active role, is working with the government of Nigeria to care for the treasures, raise their profile and knowledge of the culture that produced them and discuss repatriation. However you feel about how the bronzes got here, and where they should live today, if you live in London and haven't seen them you're doing yourself a real disservice. 

I find the clothing and textiles particularly beautiful. The workmanship is exquisite and the patterns remind you of just how much traditional African patterns have influenced Western design. I'm particularly fond of a display of hats and headgear which is not only enormously fun in the way they seem to float in their glass case, but show off in a very tangible way just how diverse the cultures of the continent are. There's no shying away from the historic conflicts that have, and still do, rip those cultures apart, but there are some good news stories here. One of my favourite pieces is The Tree of Life a sculpture of a tree brimming with wildlife made completely from decommissioned arms turned in at the end of Mozambique's civil war.

There's more than history down here. Unlike most of the rest of the museum, these galleries feature modern craftsmanship that rotates through on a regular basis, so you're never sure what you're going to find. There's currently a display of some of the most spectacular masquerade costumes I've ever seen, combining venerable traditions with modern metalwork to give us something I suspect most humans born before 1700 might have mistaken as gods. 

There's also an abstract stone sculpture of a woman that's reminiscent of the African artist's booth at the annual Hampton Court Flower show. For a bit of an investment, you too could have something worthy of a museum gallery.

The big drawback of the current pre-defined route is that it takes you through just a tiny percentage of the collection. The entire first floor and the whole northern building, with the exception of an exit route, are closed off, as are side galleries on the ground floor. You won't see anything from the European collections. No palace walls from Ninevah. The Sutton Hoo treasure remains in splendid isolation, as do the recently renovated Arabic galleries and all the Chinese and Japanese collections. Most important to note, should you be contemplating a visit with the younger generation, is that the galleries of child-enchanting mummies are out of bounds.

Don't let any of that dissuade you from reserving tickets. Your visit may be limited, but the quality of the viewing experience more than makes up for the quantity of sights available. And if it encourages you to spend some time in those African galleries, you will have found a real silver lining to this pandemic's cloud.