Truth is, it seems only appropriate that I should conquer one of the greatest scientific conundrums of all time right here in Oxford – cradle to the intelligentsia and nursery to some of the biggest brains mankind has ever produced.

And I admit, it’ll take some believing. But what true scientific pioneer hasn’t wanted to have his, or her, findings scrutinised under the collected might of the world’s scientific community?

Because, you see, I alone have conquered the dazzling mystery of time travel, and you know what, it really wasn’t that difficult.

In fact, I can’t see what all the fuss is about. After all, Dr Who managed it.

So let me explain...

On Friday, in a rare act of global compassion, I took my four large, filled-to-the-brim bags of used prosecco bottles to the bottle bank.

Clearly, they proved heavy, extremely heavy, so a mere 50 yards from the recycling bin, I set them down for one final time in order to muster the last reserves of my – let’s be honest here – considerable strength.

And that’s when it happened. That’s when the lightning in the bottle was caught, tamed and corked.

For in that single, simple act I passed through the universe’s first ever time portal, whisking me from 2014 to 2044.

Yes, I travelled forward 30 years (not might I add that I actually ‘saw’ 2044 – all flying cars and genetically moisturised couples – but rather sensed it).

For in that blink of a cosmological eye, I put out my back, stretched it to breaking point and tore at the very heart of my coccyx.

And thus there I stood, without friend or ally, in the purgatory of suburbia, gasping in white knuckle agony.

Consequently, as I write this on Sunday, I am bent over, groaning and grunting for all the world like an 82-year-old man.

On Friday morning, I was happy and suave; by Friday afternoon I was bent crooked, unable even to apply my fake tan and dependent on the kindness of others.

Today, it’s strange to think there was a time I could bend over the bathroom sink to spit out my mouthwash; right now I'm just happy to peer into the fridge.

Still, there is a blessing, however disfigured it may be disguised – I now have visited the future and it ain’t so hot.

This could be me, properly and forever, in just a few years’ time.

Which is why I have taken the bold step of deciding to live now and pay in maybe in five years’ time, since memories, at least for me, are the most enjoyable investment...