The Tower of London is worth a visit but a lot of Brits don't bother

We had travelled up to London because I had a date to meet up with an old colleague and Ellie was heading for the Natural History Museum ,where I would catch up with her later.

It is times like these when you ponder on how you coped in days before mobile phones. Ellie discovered the Museum was awash with children, all on half-term and the queues stretched some distance. Once inside, she commenced her tour but, when the time arrived for us to meet up, she texted me to the effect not to bother. I was relieved, as the queue I had stumbled across, stretched round the block.

With this experience in mind, I was a little fearful of our trip with the grandsons as the youngest, Lucas, aged 8, had chosen the Tower of London. They are very different. Jude, the eldest, is passionate about football, and his brother is keen but seems to have a fascination for history.

I cannot claim an influence over the football, as his father and grandfather are very much into it, but there might have been something filtering down with regard to the genes on the history-side.

It also came as a surprise to us how, in the last nine years, we are no longer street-savvy. Of course it is part an age thing, but we did not realise you can obtain discounts on the web. With my daughter’s encouragement, we surfed the web, but we could not seem to obtain return tickets to London for much less than £80. I was quite keen to be in the capital as soon as possible, because I imagined dragoons of schoolchildren heading for the Tower.

However, by going on a site 365 Tickets, we obtained a significant saving, which also enabled us to avoid the queues at the ticket office when we finally made it. Further the man behind the glass screen at Bushey and Oxhey Station, when we appeared at the kiosk at 9.0am, was extremely helpful.

“Come back at 9.30am and your party can get there and back for £25,” he advised. A considerable saving, so we disported ourselves to the new cafe on the other side of the queue of rush-hour traffic, breakfasted and we headed for London with the bank balance looking better than expected.

I do have a faint memory of going to the Tower as a child: possibly in 1950. I recall seeing ravens and Beefeaters but little else. Ellie had a similar childhood memory but, when subsequently talking about our trip, I was surprised how many people have never been Tower of London.

We opted for the conducted tour and enjoyed the fact it was undertaken informatively but with humour and, as such, you did not need to be history buff to enjoy the experience. Also, we had made it sufficiently early to avoid the main crowds.

Yet it was pretty crowded in the White Tower, as we worked our way through the floors of the museum. Jude and I were out in front while Ellie, who always takes longer than I at museums, art galleries and the like, was bringing up the rear with Lucas seeming to commute between the two.

It was not until we reached the exit that I discovered Ellie thought Lucas was with us. She was wrong, so panic set in. We battled back against the tide of human traffic, but to no avail. Eventually I hit upon an idea, sending Jude round to the front to work through the museum and meet us near the exit.

I then set off up the stairs, making slow progress, inspecting each of the display rooms en route. After some five minutes of my tour against the tide, I was told by a steward : “You cannot go that way.”.

I imparted the fact I had lost a grandson and petty rules did not apply and, if they did, I was going to ignore them.

“Is your grandson called Lucas?” she asked. “He is safe.”

Ellie had reported him missing and he had been found dreamily walking through the museum without a care in the world. Thinking back, perhaps another quality has worked its way through the genes.

After that Ellie took him to a public toilet and was surprised to have to fork out 50p. Later, having left a boat with a toilet, he wealked 100 yards and decided he wanted another 50 pee’s worth.

Finally, with both in tow, we set off on a short walk down to the pier. Our ticket had included a trip down and up the river and that proved to be something of a highlight with the boys and with us, although the commentary apart, we were tempted to think we were in a foreign country as we appeared to be the only English party on board.

Indeed it was quite a culture shock, hearing so many different languages on the streets and on The Tube.

I ceased visiting London regularly in 1960, and although I spent six months working on computers in Manchester Square in 1963, it is not a place I have been to often and neither has my wife, so we were equally impressed with the informative tour up to the Houses of Parliament.

OK, I will concede the Shard, but in general, how uninteresting and lacking in imagination is modern architecture when compared to the distinctive and distinguished edifices that line the Thames. It is a little like rock music: they have to take it to extremes nowadays in an effort to claim originality and make a mark.

I am with Prince Charles on the subject of architecture, which, for a republican, is quite a concession.

We pulled in by Big Ben at precisely 3,00pm and as if on cue, the clock struck the hour, which was a nice touch for the boys.

I think the day worked well for all of us.

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