“Be thine own palace, or the world’s thy jail.”
― John Donne
Jeff and I dedicate a substantial amount of our time off to going on “wanders” (some people verb nouns, we noun verbs) across the city. Quite often we’ll just pick an area to explore and set off down any street that looks interesting. We wend our way through tourist areas, obscure roads, hidden squares, and vast parks. It’s a lot of fun, but occasionally one of us is surprised.
A couple of weekends ago, as we ambled through Westminster, Jeff casually remarked that he had never really seen Buckingham Palace. I stopped short.
“What do you mean? It’s one of the main sites and you’ve lived here for two years now.”
He shrugged, “Just never got around to it.”
We happened to be crossing a wide, ornate lane at the moment and Jeff glanced up the tree lined road.
“What’s up this way?” he asked.
“Buckingham Palace,” I said dryly.
“How handy,” he replied and tugged me towards the residence.
Good find, love.
Nice pad.
Louis XIV is beyond not impressed.
St. James Park, just next door.
Small Dog Syndrome 
Well, I lived in New York for two years and never did the Empire State Building tour…
Aren’t New Yorkers supposed to avoid the tourist traps? I’m sure the same it true in London, but hey, we’re gauche.
Yes…and also, having grown up in the wonderful convergence of tourism that is Hampton Roads, I just have a built-in radar for tourist spots and a primal need to avoid them. Althought when (when!) I visit you in London, I’m probably going to have to make an exception, because I can’t NOT exploit the opportunity to begin future conversations with “when I was in the Tower of London…”