I promised yesterday to reveal the contents of the box and explain why it is so important to me, although as I am sure we all know, such promises often prove to be as empty as this box may appear to be.

But I always deliver on my promises, and the box is actually crammed full of memories, and I only bought it many years ago because I knew they would provide something to write about some day - not just a chatty story "with nothing in it," but a real catalyst for awakening images of the past, in this case the tenuous connection between our country's favourite beverage and maritime mercantile history . . . and more!

I have many memories of the Cutty Sark, as mentioned yesterday - far too many to retell in one sitting or to fit into such a small space, but this is not just any small space; it is of Tardis-like proportions, much larger on the inside than the outside and would take time to explore . . . and talking of time is a reminder that Greenwich, where she is now permanently moored, lies in the shadow of the Royal Observatory, which has been described as "the place where time begins".

I have had the experience of standing on that deck to witness the firing of the noonday gun, allowing the captains of all the ships within earshot to reset their chronometers which would not only keep accurate time wherever in the world they travelled, whilst also enabling them to calculate exactly where they were by measuring the position of the sun against the current time in London.

The story of time (and navigation) is fascinating and there is nowhere better in the world to learn about it than at Greenwich, and my little box of memories takes me right back there, as would the other little box pictured in my extras today, if that were also as true. It was bought in a charity shop some time ago, knowing it would provide a suitable "prop" for a story one day, and its time has now come.