Lord Eglinton
Fruity Mentos Building
Museums of Contemporary Art are almost by design obligated to radiate a level of haughty pretentiousness, and this tasty Castillean collection won’t let you down.
Four agreeably austere concrete boiler rooms contain a bilingually unexplainable collection of everyday artefacts, grainy monochrome projections and hand drawn linear crayoning.
Alternatively, you could skip the interior and view the building from outside, perhaps investing the 3 Euro entrance fee on ice cold refreshment served by the gallery café’s own groovy moustached Salvador Dali lookalike barista. Ole!
Fruity Mentos Building
Museums of Contemporary Art are almost by design obligated to radiate a level of haughty pretentiousness, and this tasty Castillean collection won’t let you down.
Four agreeably austere concrete boiler rooms contain a bilingually unexplainable collection of everyday artefacts, grainy monochrome projections and hand drawn linear crayoning.
Alternatively, you could skip the interior and view the building from outside, perhaps investing the 3 Euro entrance fee on ice cold refreshment served by the gallery café’s own groovy moustached Salvador Dali lookalike barista. Ole!