History can be horrible to a chip off the old block

Narrowing his eyes, he surveyed the motley crew gathered around and growled inquiringly.

"Any Australians here?"

The big man on the small box jutted his chin out, raised his left hand and jangled a heavy set of keys before delivering his punchline: "Welcome home."

Strewth mates. Such is the fun of the famous Yeoman Warder tour at the Tower of London.

Now, there's lots to dislike about our capital city; the accent, the entire cast of EastEnders, the funny dress sense and John Terry, obviously.

That's not to mention the £12 fish and chips.

"You can forget that," I told my hungry pair, "It's not even the real thing, for cod's sake."

You're not alone. They didn't laugh, either.

But standing on the ramparts at the Tower and casting an eye around reminds us why this is one of the great cities of the world.

Over your shoulder and straight out of The Apprentice credits is Norman Foster's distinctive Gherkin.

Turning left, there's The Shard, rising higher still; 1,016ft to be the highest building in Europe.

D-Day veteran HMS Belfast is serenely moored on the opposite bank and, just down river is Tower Bridge, striding majestically across the Thames since 1894. All stuff that makes you 'prahd to be British' as local philosopher Alfred Edward Garnett would say.

Back on script, our Beefeater was in full swing with tales of 'orrible 'istory from the Tower's bloody past.

The sex, murder, drunkenness read like a medieval soap plot:

Two young lads murdered on holiday? Whodunnit?

Cue EastEnders drums . . . It was Uncle Richard!

(Spoiler alert:?Rival Henry eventually beats him up and buries him under a car park in Leicester. The End.)

Not a lot has changed really, back then when they wanted a job doing properly they got someone in who knew what they were doing. Usually from abroad.

Verily, the Olde Daily Mail was in uproar; 'Coming over here, taking all ye jobs, etc.'

The moat was created in the 13th century by Henry III using a Dutch expert. Unfortunately, instead of the dirty old river washing away the Tower's dirty old mess, it only served to deposit tons of Londoners', errr, waste around the walls. Eventually the whole thing had to be filled in because of the smell.

It kept attackers at bay, mind, and gave the Mail its 'Tide of Filth' headline still in regular use to this day.

Anne Boleyn was given special dispensation to be beheaded by sword rather than axe, for the terrible crime of failing to concieve a child with Henry VIII. Bit harsh.

A Frenchman was brought in for the task and legend (well, our Beefeater) has it that he struck so quickly that when he lifted her lopped-off head from the basket, her eyes looked around and she was still saying her prayers.

My offspring listened in agogment (I've just made that word up).

They hadn't been this quiet since I threatened to throw out the Xbox. And at the end of a great day, they'd looked, listened and heard about almost a thousand years of history – there in well-preserved bricks and mortar, less than two hours away by train.

And deep inside, I felt proud that I'd taken them to one of our nation's landmark sites to see the past made real, to reach out and touch our national heritage and to learn a little bit more about why it's great to be British.

"What's the most important thing you learned today?" I asked The Boy as we headed home.

He looked at me wearily, rested his chin on his hand and answered: "You won't pay £12 for fish and chips."