The culture shock certainly does startle you, writes Paul Majendie.

One moment you are wandering through darkened galleries
admiring exquisite jewellery that adorned the tomb of
Tutankhamun over 3,000 years ago in ancient Egypt.

Then it’s through the swing doors and out into the glaring
lights of the souvenir shop. Roll up, roll up to buy the
inflatable mini-mummy. Made in China. Blows up to 20 inches in
height.

Or at the other end of the scale for the Egyptologist who
has everything, why not try the Tutankhamun Tomb wine rack. It’s
a steal at 450 pounds.

For kids eager to relive the Pharaoh dream, there’s the
hieroglyphic stencil pencil or adorn your playroom with a King
Tut mini-bubble head. Living history. A real case of mummies in
motion.

Anyone wanting to look like the boy king who ascended the
throne at the age of nine can grab a Tut t-shirt and top it with
a Scarab baseball cap Egyptian-style.

And for playtime there is the mini-excavation kit complete
with hammer and chisel. Again it’s Made in China.

But for cynics who complain that mass-produced Pharaoh
baubles cheapen the majesty of the Tutankhamun exhibition, it’s
not all about the temple of capitalist mammon.

A slice of the profits goes towards restoring ancient
monuments in Egypt and building the first children’s museum
there.

But the venue may still jar with ardent Pharaoh fans.

However beautifully the exhibits are laid out at the
grandiose O2 stadium on the banks of the River Thames, it does
feel a bit like a corporate funfair being staged in the former
Millennium Dome.

The contrast could not be more stark than the setting
for Britain’s other big blockbuster of the year – China’s
Terracotta Army.

That exhibition is being staged in the historic reading room
at the British Museum, where in 1972 almost 1.7 million people
queued for up to eight hours to see London’s last Tutankhamun
exhibition.