Spontaneity Schmontaneity

The following is absolutely 100% true:

For the past few days, the weather in London has been uncharacteristically amazing - sunny and warm during the days, brisk and clear in the evening. So this afternoon, upon emerging from the travel clinic, we decided on a whim to forget about our pressing need to do some serious itinerary arranging and spend the day soaking up the sun at the Tower of London. Why not, after all? It was beautiful out, and we thought we should be sure to make the most of our last days here in England. So, we grabbed our tickets and a quick snack and made our way to the surprisingly long entrance queue. While in line, we learned that the King of Ghana was visiting the Tower and that security was exceptionally high for his visit. Beneath the portcullis, the guards rifled through Laura's handbag and even opened her wallet, in case she was secreting some kind of tiny but deadly weapon (a poisonous spider, perhaps). Undeterred, a crowd was forming around the Beefeater just inside the gate for the next tour. We followed the nattily dressed Yeoman Warden through the Tower for an hour, learning lots of sordid details about the various executions and murders that punctuate its history and laughing dutifully at his well-practiced jokes. When we ventured past the inner wall, a member of our group noticed the Royal Standard flying over the White Tower (the original central keep built by William the Conquerer). Our beefeater explained that this was Prince Charles' flag, signaling his presence in the Tower this afternoon. We thought little of it; HRH was surely in some posh, secluded room, discussing the fine points of postcolonial theory with the king of Ghana over tea and scones. But as we emerged from the Waterloo Barracks and into the light of the central courtyard, we noticed a group of tourists growing larger down by the new armouries. We hurried down, just in time to see Prince Charles himself step out into the crowd and make his way towards the White Tower, shaking hands and chatting about the weather with the camera-happy crowds. We were within feet of His Royal Highness, close enough to hear his practiced small talk and jovial guffaws - and, thinking we were in for nothing more exciting than a morning at the doctor's office, we had left our camera at home!

You'll just have to take our word for it.

P.S. Sue, he looks like he's pining.