So for the last however-many-years we’ve been telling ourselves – come the summer season – that we really ought do a bit o’ touristy stuff, pop a rucksack on our backs (both straps, people, both straps), wear stone-washed jeans, stand at the entrance of Tube platforms, walk and then stop inexplicably, talk too loud, stand on the left of Tube escalators, eat at Aberdeen Angus Steak House, look generally bewildered, and c) and d). And this really is going somewhere.
Bas. I. Cally we wanna go see the State Rooms at Buckingham Palace. They look dead nice and fancy and it’s the closest we’re gonna get without being a sheep herder in the Outer Hebrides for 139 years and being rewarded an OBE for our efforts.
ps. *God save our gracious queen, god save our noble queen, god save the queen – tra, la, la, la, laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa; SEND HER VICTORIOUS, etc.*
pps. Buck House’s State Rooms are open to the dolly public for two months from 29th July.