DAY TWO - LONDON - JULY 25

I certainly never thought that my family and I would one day enter a black cab in London and say to the driver "Buckingham Palace, please."

But that's exactly what we did on the second day of our trip.

Paul and Blake had gone running that morning and had brought back pastries from a local shop and - God Bless America - a couple of cups of coffee from Starbucks. We got to start our day leisurely which is always a plus. I got to start my day with a European pastry and a White Chocolate Mocha, which is also always a plus.

We arrived at the palace about 45 minutes before the changing of the guard, giving us plenty of time to get a spot right up by the gate. We then settled in to watch the crowd grow.

And grow and grow and grow.

It struck me as I was looking through the gates that there I was staring at Buckingham Palace and I had not yet even seen our own White House back home.

Note to self: plan trip to D.C.

There were, of course, many many children there waiting to see the "show" and we happened to meet a little girl named Billie. Billie was six and her baby brother Ernest (Ernie) was about 1. Billie and her parents lived outside of the city and she kept telling her parents that she was ready to go do something more fun, to which they would respond something like "Mummy and Daddy have chosen to do this now..."

Finally Billie folded her arms, furrowed her brow and announced "Well, I choose to go to the park. I DON'T WANT TO SEE THE QUEEN."

And I thought that was the funniest thing I'd heard in a while.

I couldn't help but wonder, while watching the ceremony, if there was symbolic meaning to everything the guards did. I was wishing we had a little guide to tell me, but it really didn't matter because....um yeah...WE'RE AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE and I should just stop over thinking things and enjoy myself.

So I did.

Interestingly, the W girls felt right at home in front of the palace...

And Blake seemed to feel right at home with the guards.

After Buckingham Palace we strolled through a beautiful park and came upon St. James Palace. Those pictures will be posted later because we actually ended up returning the next day so we could get photos with the guards.

Then we decided to pop into a few of the local shops.

We walked into a cigar shop because...well, I'm not sure why, but it actually smelled really good. The tobacco smell reminded me of my grandpa.

And really there's nothing I enjoy more than a good cigar and a glass of brandy after dinner..

Paul asked the lady behind the counter "Do you have any cigars made from locally grown tobacco?" because Paul loves little pieces of useless information like that.

Well.

This lady pursed her lips and squinted her eyes. She looked at us as though she couldn't believe mere peasants such as ourselves could ever have...oh, I don't know...won a revolution.

And she said "WE. DON'T. GROW. TOBAHCO. IN. THIS. COUNTRY."

Which was hilarious because every jar of TOBAHCO and every box of cigars contained a sign that said: SMOKING KILLS.

Yes our product will kill you, but rest assured we did not grow it here in THIS COUNTRY.

So we exited the store and I fell all over myself laughing. And then Kayla and I spent the day saying "We don't grow tobahco in this country."

Because we colonists are easily amused.

Luckily, before asking the tobacco question, we had asked the cigar people for a recommendation for lunch. We wanted a local pub because I was determined to eat fish and chips for lunch that day.

We ended up at a little pub called The Blue Post where I ordered Fish and Chips and - God Bless America - a Diet Pepsi. I was a little thrown off when I had to choose between Mushy Minted Peas (really) and Garden Peas to go with my fish and chips.

As curious as I was about the Mushy Minted Peas, I played it safe and ordered the plain Garden variety of peas.

Mushy Minted Peas? I wonder if I will ever regret not eating those. But I will say this. The English really can make some good fish and chips.

After lunch we walked to Piccadilly Circus where I bought a purse and had to inform my family that yes, as a matter of fact, I DID need another bag in my closet back home.

Three quarters of the W gang in front of some fountain in Piccadilly Circus.

Well would you look at this:

Less than 48 hours into the trip and I'm already on his last nerve.

Hmmm. Go figure!