I often look at ways to supplement my income and gild the coffers. My current madcap idea is a walking tour of St Albans, where punters could sample the delights of the gaol house (backdrop to the opening of Porridge), and the chance to walk in the footsteps of alleged residents including Dappy, Rupert Grint and Gino De Campo. I envision the walk being capped off with tea and cakes in the cathedral with the comedy legend that is Charlie Chuckle as he passes the Battenberg from me to you to me to you etc. etc.

As a purveyor of the outlandish, I wrote a column last year about eccentric enterprise including cheese rolling, Brompton bike racing and pork pie eating. Having undertaken further detailed primary research I surmised that the popularity of these obscure events are despite UK parking issues that are not conducive for a day out with the family. I am therefore now searching further afield for some obscure excitement.

One that is certainly off the list, for varying reasons that will become apparent, is the Turkish Avanos hair museum. Temptingly located in some bloke called Gallip’s basement, he has ‘lovingly’ collected 16,000 locks of women’s hair. This curious concept throws up a series of questions, none of which I can be bothered with. In summation I think it’s fair to say the musuem is best avoided.

A popular attraction in Iceland is currently the Reykjavik phallus museum which has left the owner as the tourism cock of the walk. Phalluses from mammals have been lovingly collated and preserved in a formaldehyde type solution for punters to admire and feel extremely inadequate about. Suffice to say, Icelandic bank managers, as has been proven, are a little more liberal in where they choose to spread their start up seed capital.

Now, treading tentatively so as not to again upset reader ‘Mr Ribble’, who is not partial to my referencing alcohol and bad behaviour in my columns, I feel I must, in an informative manner, let you know about the existence of the Starkenberger beer pools in Austria. The brewery has seven 13-foot swimming pools, each filled with 42,000 pints of beer in which to have a soak. The beer is stale, you are at risk of a yeast infection and you could no doubt urinate in it without any redress. Obviously that type of behaviour would be shocking and I don’t condone it in any shape or form, kids.

The Croatian museum of broken relationships contains artefacts of the very same (whatever they may be…decree absolute anyone?), however the most bizarre must be the Nose Academy in Lund, Sweden. This is of personal interest as, despite strangers believing I look like Gregg Wallace, my youngest daughter Millie nicknames me 'Gru’ of Despicable Me fame because of the size of my hooter. The Nose Academy features plaster casts of 100 Swedish people’s noses. A strange idea, but not to be sniffed at.

I think I’ll stick with the walking tour enterprise. Other rich cultural St Albans attractions include former residents Benny Hill and Donovan and current ones including David Essex and S Club 7’s Paul Cattermole. We may even take a detour via St Columba’s school, former learning seat of Sacha Baron Cohen, aka Ali G. Now that would be wicked. You get me? Westside. Aiiii.