My plan was to first go to Durmondson’s Memorial where I would spend between twenty and thirty minutes. After this I would quickly proceed to the Wellingtonian in time to catch a guided tour (free, donations welcome, as if) at 11.00 a.m. The website said that there was a limit of 15 people per tour group. After this I would leisurely spend the rest of the evening at the Royal Museum enjoying environmental engineering and science.

As I left the apartment on my walking trip, Diary, I was feeling excited and motivated. Even though I was going because of Gouri’s emotional blackmail, I was fully expecting to enjoy myself. Also, as you may be aware, one of my personal mottoes is: To never focus only on professional and personal interests but also to develop a well-rounded personality through exposure to history, culture and art forms such as film, song, sculpture and dance but not theatre, which is a useless art form for arrogant people who get upset just because you forgot your lines during the Christmas play and said ‘I come to honour the instant Jesus, the son of the surgeon Mary’ by mistake.

After walking for one hour I reached a big stone rectangular block on a small piece of grass by the Thames, near Tower Bridge. There was a security guard there. (Very rude fellow. Perhaps illegal immigrant.) I asked him the way to Durmondson’s Memorial. He pointed at the block and told me that this was Durmondson’s Memorial. I was confused. I told him that the website showed a painting of a great battle. Durmondson sat on a huge brown horse and around him there were big cannons and several dead and live soldiers. Where are all those things?

He told me very rudely that all those things were probably in Afghanistan where Durmondson fought during the Second Anglo-Afghan War. Here at the memorial there was only this tomb. Durmondson’s body was inside this stupid stone block. He said there was a small copper plate outside with his brief life history.

BLOODY FOOL DURMONDSON. THIS IS CALLED A MEMORIAL? PANDAARAM ADANGAAN! THEY SHOULD CALL IT DURMONDSON’S STUPID STONE BOX. No wonder the Afghans killed him. Anyway, since I had wasted time walking all the way here I went to read the copper plate. Half of it was covered by some dirty fungus. I was going to clean it when the security fellow stopped me. Apparently visitors were not allowed to touch the stone block.

Diary, you can imagine how upset I was. As a sign of protest, just before leaving, I opened the visitors’ feedback book for the memorial and drew sex organs on it.

Already I was very very late for the Wellingtonian Museum guided tour. Five minutes before 11.00 I reached, covered in sweat, and gasping for air. I had to run through a park and then across a railway bridge.