When I think of the Victorians I imagine stern people, too busy being industrious and ruling the world for pratical jokes. That is until I happened upon this monument.

It is a large and impressive statue that sits to the south of St. James Park, just behind the Prime Ministers house on Downing Street. You would expect it to be emblazoned with titles in the manner of Lord or Duke, names like Nelson or Horatio suffixed with a double-barrled surname.

But no, all that is written on the statue is Clive! Yes, just Clive.

Now Clive is one of those names isn't it? One of those names that only a certain kind of person has. One of those names, like Dean or Barry, that could never be associated with grand deeds or heroic bravery.

So I figured it had to be the Victorians having a laugh. An out of character joke that juxtaposed a magnificent monument with a joke name. Sadly not.

My curiosity got the better of me, and I did a little bit of research. It turns out that it is in fact a tribute to Major-General Robert Clive, a soldier who helped colonise India back in the 1700's.

Now, while it is nice to learn new things and broaden your understanding, I will never again be able to walk past this cenotaph and snigger to myself about it being named Clive. And that makes me a little bit sad :(

You have only yourself to blame I hear you cry. Yes, that is true, but I had a partner in this crime of over-education, and maybe this is a conundrum of the modern age that we must all consider; do Wikipedia and Google et al. provide us with too much easily accessible information? Was it more fun to live in ignorance in the past and more rewarding to have to put a bit of work into researching our inquiries?

Answers on a postcard please.

Okay, the Victorians were basically the kings (or should that be queens?) of extravagance, they liked to show off their opulence. That is not a criticism though, I think it was a good thing. One of the grandest high-Victorian extravaganzas anywhere, the Prince Consort National Memorial (to give it its full name) is an amazing example of this Victorian grandiosity.

Sited directly opposite the Royal Albert Hall, the monument was commissioned by Queen Victoria in memory of her beloved husband, Prince Albert, who died of typhoid in 1861. The Queen's grief was overwhelming, she wore black in mourning for him for the rest of her long life. (Her inability to find 'closure' may have something to do with rumours that Prince Albert invented the piercing that shares his name in order to tame the appearance of his large penis in tight trousers). Anyhow, designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott, the monument opened in 1872.

It's an amazing thing. Despite its height and size, you can be quite close when all of a sudden it pops into view having been hidden by the surrounding trees. And when you get up close you can really appreciate what a spectacular piece of work it is.

Surrounding the cenotaph there are 187 carved figures that depict celebrated painters, poets, sculptors, musicians and architects of the time. A large golden replica of Albert is perched up on top, surveying the park around him. And, my favourite bit, the continents of the world are represented by various animals (Europe a bull, The Americas a buffalo, Asia an elephant and Africa a camel), on each corner (minus Australasia, because everyone knows that two countries and a load of tiny islands don't add up to a continent)!

It's great. Get down there and see it when it's next sunny and you've got a bit of time to kill.