Walking around London has basically been a pastime for me ever since I decamped here... I'm not sure I'll ever actually get tired of it, it always gives me a tremendous sense of presence and ownership. I love walking, and there's always something new to see.
That said, it's fair to say nearby original locations have been wearing a bit thin. We've literally walked (and crossed off on the A-Z and OSM) every park, street, path, alley, wood, close, avenue, road, rise, hill, grove, copse, drive, lane, crescent, way, gardens, court and dale within a two-mile radius - essentially where we can make it out to and back from in my lunch hour.
We've been mixing it up a bit lately by delving more in to local history and architecture to see what new oddities we can spot - many local history societies and "Friends of..." societies have published stuff in this regard, and there's always local history books like Nairn's London* or classic sites like Edith's Streets which are made for the curious walker about London.
London Local History - this lists street by street items of historical interest - public, industrial buildings & some environmental features in London and its immediate surroundings. Streets are given in OS grid squares - but numbering is not included (sorry!). Older squares give links to...
edithsstreets.blogspot.com
The walking also gels well with my love of old maps - I adore being able to walk through the middle of a housing estate knowing it's the same path than ran between the greenhouses and the front pond when the site was Suchandsuch Hall in 1875. Probably the highlight of this was walking (one of) the course(s) of the Effra up to dulwich woods, and after that following the track of the old crystal palace high-level line all the way from where it departed the main tracks at Nunhead cemetery.
* It's badly outdated as a mere tour guide now and the section on south london is rather anaemic, but the style is immaculate. Take this entry for Electric Avenue for example:
Ian Nairn in 1966 said:
Electric alright, and high voltage too. A whole area east of Brixton Road, opposite the jolly town hall, where the ground floor has dissolved and re-formed as a magic cave of people and goods. Stalls everywhere, arcades everywhere, diving through buildings and under the railway. Meat, fish, nylons, detergent: an endless, convoluted cornucopia. Compared with it, Petticoat Lane is synthetic; this cockney centre has kept all of its Victorian vitality. And it is the twentieth-century New World that has saved the bacon of the Old; for more than half the faces are one shade of brown or another. These is of course a Grand Plan out for this unplanned sky-rocketing power-house; with luck, it will be so grand that it is deferred until planners can understand what makes the place tick. It lives by free growth, like a great hedgerow tree. And as a tree depends on leaves, this vast emporium depends on the humble light bulb. Naked and without frills, binding the whole place in to a web of stars at eye level. Electric.
(1988 footnote by Peter Gasson reads: The riots happened just around the corner, but the market seems cheerfully unruffled. The Grand Plan remained on the drawing board)