Clive Handy's Blog

*Tasmania and The Great Ocean Road.

I thought I’d better get down my experiences in said places. The Tassie trip was organised by Kevin: flight to Hobart, stay there for two nights, drive hire car north, sightseeing on the way to Launceston (pronounced lawn-ses-ton in Aus, in the UK the it’s pronounced lawnston). Then we fly back from there.

If you had said a year ago that I would be visiting Tasmania within a year, I’d have said yeah right, in the vernacular. But there we were queuing up at Melbourne’s Tullamarine airport for the Jetstar flight to Hobart. It was a very early morning flight and it was very early doors out of the flat to get to the airport. Just over an hour later, we landed, picked up the hire car and I had my first taste of driving in Australia, albeit Tasmania, but its no different. After breakfast in a Salamanca Market (of which more later) cafe, we straight away went up to the top of Mt Wellington, which is 1270 mtrs. The drive up was ‘interesting’, and the climb made our ears pop. From the 26° in Sydney a week or so previously, we were now subject to snow and 5°.

Amazing sights of the whole Hobart area from that height:

Its like a giant Google map and gives a huge idea of what it feels like floating that high. We spent quite a bit of time up there, the local council have built an enclosed viewing platform and walkways leading to the best panoramic viewpoints. After our stay up there we drove down to the ‘hotel’, actually a backpackers hostel in the middle of Hobart.

We went down to the harbour area that night and although it was very crisp, it was a lovely evening. We had fish and chips in a very nice fish restaurant and made our way back to the accommodation. I had felt a little under the weather the whole day and was hoping the hotel would be warm. Unfortunately I was disappointed; the corridors were open to the elements, and the back packers area at their back of the building, so the rooms weren’t exactly cosy. I felt bloody awful and went to bed shivering like I had ‘flu. The next morning we went to the famous Salamanca Saturday Market in the middle of Hobart and looked around the 200+ stalls, selling just about every local produce imaginable. With busking musicians dotted around and an abundance of stalls selling a range of eats, it was a surrounding experience, full of colour, sounds and smells. We had scheduled the afternoon to go to MONA, the Museum of New and modern Art, which had opened 2 years ago at a cost of many millions of dollars. Part of the whole experience was to travel from Hobart harbour to MONA on the disruptive pattern painted catamaran which took about 30 minutes to get there:

There were some very interesting exhibits, like this ‘fat Porsche’.

Or this white room:

But don’t ask me to explain them….

It was a very interesting experience nonetheless, and one that’s not to be missed when visiting Tassie. After another cold night we were making our way to Boolorong Wildlife Park to see indigenous rescue animals in the flesh, including hand feeding kangaroos:

That whole visit was a whole new experience, I’ve never been that close to koalas, wombats and Tasmanian Devils, who incidentally get a bad press:

They are nowhere near as aggressive or manic as Looney Toons depicted them. They are nearly blind, only seeing a few feet ahead, but their hearing is excellent. Since they feed mostly on carrion, their reputation (enhanced by those cartoons), meant they were vilified by the locals because of the horrific noise they made while feeding, earning the ‘devil’ epithet. Another animal which supposedly became extinct in 1936 was the Thylacine or Tasmanian Tiger, which was dog sized and shaped with tiger-like stripes over its hindquarters, had a long non-waggable tail and a marsupial pouch facing the rear. Like the devil, the Thylacine was wrongly blamed for culling sheep, when in fact it was a poor hunter and also fed mainly on carrion. Sheep farmers actively hunted them and wiped them out, but some Tasmanians insist they have heard them in the wilds of the island, although none have been spotted. The last living one died in a zoo in Washington DC.

We stayed in Launceston for one night, coincidentally in the same hotel that the town of Melbourne was formed by three businessmen, one of whom was called Batman, and this was originally what the town was going to be called, seriously. We looked around the town, specially the famous gorge:

Then made our way to the airport for the flight back, arriving in Melbourne about 5pm on the Monday.

The next day we set off for the GOR* in the borrowed Ford Falcon. I think Ford Australia missed a trick not exporting the Falcon to the UK, I thought it was a great drive. We booked our first night in the Grand Pacific Hotel in Lorne, and set off using the Sat Nav to get there, passing the Ford factory at Geelong. We stayed the first night here:

After a lovely drive along the GOR, with its swooping scenery and sheer drop cliffs alternating with twisting roads through heavily wooded hill sides. Breathtaking doesn’t cut it as a description:

This is Sinclair Falls behind Lorne.

We moved on towards the 12 Apostles, probably one of the most iconic images of Australia behind Ayers Rock, this is part if it:

…although it is split in two parts from the viewing platform, which itself is on a promitory sticking out from the coastline. This is the other side:

The more observant will notice that there aren’t in fact 12 bits of rock, but it depends on where you stand on how many can be counted. I got up to 7, which is the average. We got to the area of the Apostles along the GOR, experiencing the same swooping scenery as before, coming across small coastal villages and homesteads that had been set up where a flat inlet of land could be developed. We had booked ahead, online, accommodation in a small town, Port Campbell which is 10 minutes drive from the 12 Apostles. The weather had started to turn after some glorious days, and on the first day we visited it was pouring rain. Groups of tourists were queuing up to take the helicopter rides from behind the main parking area. We sat in the car with a picnic and decided to come back the next day and were rewarded with a sunny, but windy, day. When we booked into our cottage, we were given a bigger one by our host Sue, who looked after us very well.

Port Campbell, although small, had some nice eating places which we took advantage of, and we stayed a further night to explore the area more. The town along the coast was Peterborough, but was nothing like the Cambridgeshire town, it was a sleepy village that was closed, not a soul about: don’t bother going there. There are many other bays and features to see, the other main one being where the schooner Loch Aird perished in the late 19th century with two survivors.

Having explored the area, we were due to go back to Melbourne. We got to the GOR via the coast road, but there is a ‘highway’ the A1, which bypasses the coast and is a direct route back. We decided to go back via the A1 and via a ‘food trail’ which were places which produced locally sourced food and alcohol. We stopped at the Timboon whisky distillery and tasted their single malt, and other liqueurs and bought some to take home. We eventually got to the A1, which is surprisingly a single carriageway, and decided, since we had time to retrace our steps, to visit Torquay which we had bypassed on the way to the GOR in our haste to get to the coast. I’m glad we did, Torquay is a lovely little town and a centre for surfing, and especially windsurfing. We had lunch in a lovely ramshackle restaurant overlooking the sea, and made our back ‘home’, our daughters apartment.

So that was the end of our sojourn to Tasmania and the Great Ocean Road, a week of total contrasts, weather and sights. We now had 10 days left of our Australian trip, to spend in and around Melbourne. Watch out for the next installment.

I’d forgotten that in my hurry to get down on paper (figuratively), my experiences in Australia that I had missed some of the things Melbourne had to offer.

In our first hectic week Teresa (daughter) and Kevin (son-in-law) had: taken us on a walk around their local area of Brunswick; seen Teresa in her amdram play and met some of their friends. The Australians seem to plan for physical activity: scenic footpaths are well planned, cycle paths parallel these, and are used extensively. Cycling is well catered for generally, with lots of cycle shops and dedicated paths even in the city centre. Also helmets are a legal necessity: excellent.
Teresa’s play was ‘Up For Grabs’, by David Williamson a well known Australian playwright. It was staged in the West End in the early 2000s with Madonna of all people in the title role. Her performance was slated by the critics, mainly because of the changes she wanted to make to her character’s name and other things, and it only had a very short run. In Australia it has been staged many times and is very popular. Teresa played Simone, an art dealer who is trying to play several buyers of a painting against each other to get the best price, while also trying to cover her possible loss if she doesn’t get the right price. It’s an hilarious romp through the whole gamut of emotions and laughter, with surprising twists and a satisfying denouement. Teresa was of course fantastic, and delivered her well-timed lines with aplomb and confidence, and I’m not just saying this because she’s my daughter, she was genuinely superb, a budding professional if I ever saw one.

We met their friends Simon and Gaspare in a night market in Victoria Market a 19th century artifact, which also holds day markets several times a week. The place was heaving:

A great emphasis is placed on food in Melbourne and the market was no exception. Queues were snaking around the whole market for the delicious smelling food from the four corners of the world. We settled on the shortest queue which was a stall selling pulled pork rolls; really tasty. There were also a couple of bars selling a range of beer and wine. Now, I’m a real ale man and had the preconception that Oz was all about ‘bloody lager’. No, not the case, many so-called ‘craft’ beers are produced, and these would be closest to what I would call bitter, but the Ozzies like it ice cold, rather than my preference of cool. Oh well, when in Rome…

We had a week to go before our Sydney trip so we certainly saw a lot of Melburnian life including a Sunday afternoon roast dinner in a nightclub type bar with a seven piece1920s jazz band; Andrew Nolte and his Orchestra, playing sometimes obscure songs from that era. But they were very good, look at their page:

https://m.facebook.com/AndrewNolteandHisOrchestra?id=107508869374214&_rdr

The roast lamb dinner was also excellent.

Actually this is from a steak restaurant we went to later, but it gives an idea

We went for walks around central Melbourne’s myriad lanes and shopping streets of which there are many. We also went for a stroll along the riverside and walked through the biggest casino I’ve ever seen, part of the Crown hotel. At 10 in the morning people were playing one-arm bandits and croupiers were dealing blackjack hands: unbelievable! The whole city is beautiful, and within a short distance you can get to a lovely beach at St Kilda or rolling countryside northeast of the city, with wineries and craft breweries. Then a bit further out, about an hour, you have the Great Ocean Road (GOR), which is an amazing rugged coastline of swooping roads falling down to the sea, followed closely by soaring cliffs and violent drops, an incredible journey. More of that in another blog. Also within the city limits are three world class sporting venues: the Melbourne Cricket Ground (the ‘G’), the AAMI rugby league stadium and the Rod Laver Arena, which is used for concerts as well as for sports. All these within strolling distance of the centre. Maybe I’m waxing a bit too lyrical, but the town has that effect on me.

Federation Square

Teresa is involved with the Melbourne Fringe Festival which runs until early October, so she’s involved with volunteering for that. The advantage is that we get to see some really good fringe theatre/shows with the odd freebie thrown in. Incidentally, Aussies generally shorten or simplify words such as freebie, which is known in the UK, but also use terms such as selfie (self portrait using a phone or camera), stubby (short bottle of beer), tradie (tradesman), sunny (sunshine – only kidding!), and tend to say Fed Square or Freo (Fremantle). All very self explanatory and kind of quaint. The other thing I’ve noticed about Oz, as I’ve mentioned before, is the take up of shop space, which is exceptionally high. In discussion at a fringe event (The Last Temptation of Randy, a very funny glove puppet), and afterwards I discovered the reason: mail order. Its almost none existent in Australia because so much stuff is imported, and usually from great distances. Whereas everything we want from eBay, Amazon or Argos is usually delivered within a few days, and we want to know why if it isn’t, here you order stuff and then forget about it. When it arrives four weeks later, you are pleasantly surprised it has arrived so soon. So this explains the demise of the high street store in the UK, and why it’s booming in Australia: you can’t get it quicker or probably cheaper any other way. Another plus point for this fascinating country.

I leave you with a view from one of Melbourne’s bridges. My next exciting installment (if you can bear the suspense) will be our trips to Tasmania (Tassie!), and the GOR Great Ocean Road. See what I mean!

So to continue the story:

The train journey of two hours was interesting in that it steadily climbs out of Sydney up fairly steep gradients (it seemed to me), without faltering or apparent drop-off of speed. The train stopped at a number of commuting areas on the outskirts, then stopped mostly, after Parramatta, at small mountain towns and settlements. The railway follows the western road highway exactly so it saves on building separate routes presumably. The coaches themselves have an interesting feature, besides having three levels, in that each bench seat backrest can be pulled in either direction, so that four people can face each other, or be in rows facing the same way. Useful if you don’t want to look at other ugly mugs first thing in the morning!

We arrived at Katoomba at about 5 o’clock on that Sunday, and again a helpful chap guided us to the lift, and another pointed out the direction of the YHA hostel where we were staying for four nights. Now being a mountainous area the town was not built on the flat, so we walked down a steep high street with the wheely suitcase and up the other side to the hostel which was handily placed next to the police station. That was a hell of a journey, about 3/4 mile I’d guess and I was quite puffed when we got there. Yes I know should’ve taken a cab but there were none around. We would certainly go back to the station by that method. The YHA building had an interesting history as a dance hall, hotel and religious order retreat, but had been a hostel for about 10 years. The man on reception was very helpful and showed us to our comfortable on-suite room:

No it’s not five star luxury, but the bed was very comfortable. The amenities were very good too with a huge communal kitchen and lounge areas. The next morning we walked back up to the top of town to get bus passes for the circular hop on-hop off service around the main attractions and sight seeing areas. For $25 they last two days, but the guy doing ours stamped them for three days: result! We went round the whole circuit first to see what was what and spent some time looking around the whole Katoomba/Leura area. That evening I had arranged to meet up with an old RAF buddy of mine who I hadn’t seen for over 30 years. He was driving from Richmond, about an hour away, and wanted somewhere to have dinner. We had gone past the ‘RSL’, which is very like the British Legion only nicer. You don’t have to be ex-service, they’ll sign anyone in so we decided it would be OK. John, my friend, met us at the YHA with his two daughters Chloe and Tash. It was great to swap stories after so many years, but we tried to include Fran, who had never met John, and his girls. The meal was lovely then John drove back too Richmond, a nice evening.

The next day and the day after we did the touristy bits around the ‘Three Sisters’, Echo Point, and the rest of the Blue Mountains. As I said I won’t be describing the full tourist descriptions of ‘scenes from a travelogue’. These can be got from Google or any library. As a taster here are some pictures:

The last one is taken through the floor of the cable car which stretches across a valley. The glass turns clear after moving off from the station – spooky!

So, after some sight seeing, local historic places visited and meals out and in the kitchen, including a return visit to the RSL for our anniversary dinner, we departed on the Thursday morning, (this time with a cab!) on the train back to Sydney. When we arrived it was a simple transfer to a local train three stops down for the domestic airport and the flight back to Melbourne, all very smooth and easy. The only mistake was getting a bus from Melbourne airport in the centre of town, thinking we could easily get a tram back to Lygon Street; it wasn’t and we didn’t. We ended up walking about 2 miles ( or so it felt) dragging a suitcase, not to be repeated! Anyway we got back, that’s the main thing.

I thought it was only Melburnians who were polite and helpful; we encountered similar attributes where ever we went in New South Wales as well. For example teenagers give up their seats for older/less able people. Rubbish is not chucked everywhere. ‘Seniors’ are respected and are treated respectfully, there is a whole atmosphere of friendliness and ‘niceness’, a horrible word, I know but it fits the mood. Charity shops are called Op Shops (Opportunity) and are embraced. The clothes are always in very good condition (I bought a Rip Curl cotton shirt – an excellent well-known make for $6, about £3.50 and it’s immaculate and seems like brand-new). The streets are clean, there’s no gum on the pavements (or very little), and nearly all the shops are occupied and seem to be prosperous. There’s hardly any empty shops, multiple betting shops or rows of charity shops like there is in the UK. There’s an air of prosperity, although that may be short-lived when Australia’s mineral exports start slowing down. At the moment though, all seems good, with a change of government that may get even better, time will tell. I like Australian attitudes, the fact that shop assistants and serving staff can understand and speak English, and all are helpful in the extreme, as if its a pleasure to serve you, not an inconvenience like it is sometimes at home. It’s refreshing and its what Britain would have been like 30 years ago, but has now lost the olde worlde charm. I wish we could get it back. It seems to work here in Australia and they are still a modern, with-it nation. Some wish, it’ll never be like that in the UK.

It started out about a year ago, when No. 2 daughter and husband announced that he had secured a position in another country. They have been looking at Brazil, Italy and others, but it finally turned out to be…Australia.

It was always on the cards that we would be going to visit them sometime, after all the precedent had been set with trips to Edinburgh, Brazil, Essex. So the planning started with arranging the flights and timings and we decided on a six week trip in the late summer/autumn. If six weeks seems excessive, sitting here after one week has flown, I don’t think so. After all the cost of flights there and back is no different over that period than for two weeks and we are staying for the majority of the time with the young couple. So flights, transfers, insurance all sorted. When the time came, it would seem that the 24 hour travel time was huge. In my mind it turned out to feel shorter than it was, but ‘t wife thought it was much longer. Horses for courses.

So picked up by said couple in a locally produced Ford something, the company Kevin works for. For a fleeting moment, it looked we had done a huge loop, and landed back at a strange airport. On the journey home, looking left and right on the left hand side of the road, we could have been driving away from any airport in the UK. The grass verges looked the same, the road signs were very similar, the cars on the road were familiar, the whole setup looked the same as at home. We arrived at the apartment and had a pasta take-away and we didn’t feel too bad, jet-lag wise. As the time drew on it got worse, but after 6 days I think I’ve broken the back of it. So to the city itself. Its a mixture of American grid street system and trams, coupled with a typically European eclectic mixture of modern and old buildings. In terms of large cities its reasonably large and spread put, but the CBD as it’s called (Central Business District – an Australian term), is compact. The famous Flinders station stands on one corner of the CBD, flanked by Federation Square and Collins Street which runs through the centre of it.

The CBD

Anyway I’m anxious too get this out, haven’t had time to jot down the rest of the week. Sydney and the Blue Mountains to come!

I’ve sometimes been accused of only writing a rant. This is patently not true as those who have followed my scribblings for the last year will testify. I try not to rant all the time, but this world makes me see it’s injustices and what it’s coming to.  Statement over.

On 16th August 1943,  Flying Officer Baron Jean De Selys Longchamps DFC was returning from a sortie over Oostende in his 3(Fighter) Squadron Hawker Typhoon when he was set upon by German fighters and badly shot up, just as he was approaching his home base of RAF Manston in Kent.  He crashed landed and the tail of his aircraft broke up killing him:

He was well known for a) being a member of the Belgium aristocracy who escaped to England from the French Vichy government after being interred and b) shooting up the Gestapo headquarters in Brussels in January 1943.  There is still a plaque on the wall of that building commemorating his exploit. He joined the RAF (after lying about his over-age, remarkably his 28 years at the time was considered too old), learnt to fly and became an ace pilot.

‘Wings Of Memory’ (www.wingsofmemory.be) who are based in Belgium, commemorate Belgians world wide who may have been forgotten about, and who fought in both world wars. I was invited by them to take part in a ceremony on August 16th to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the Baron’s demise.  In attendance would be senior Belgium air force officers and representatives from the family of the Baron and the Belgian Embassy in London. Of course I accepted straight away and was proud to represent the squadron the Baron was on when he died. I also represented the 400+ members of the 3(Fighter) Squadron Association, of which I am chairman. The whole thing was organised by Wings of Memory in conjunction with the Minster Royal British Legion branch and was held at the cemetery in Minster-in-Thanet in Kent.

Me accompanying an air cadet to lay a wreath from 3(F) Squadron at the headstone

BBC TV South and Kent local radio were in attendance and a member of the squadron at the time, and a great friend of the Baron, 92 year old Bob Barckley was interviewed for radio KMFM:

http://www.kentonline.co.uk/kentonline/features/the_update_with_kmfm_news.aspx.

There was also this page on the BBC News web site:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-kent-23725107

The whole event was carried out with great dignity, and it was interesting to hear from the Baron’s relations and what they remember of him. Some were not even born when he died, but his life had a lasting impression on the whole family.

A selection of views from the day: top left; the marquee for the guests, top right; the headstone of Baron Jean de Selys Longchamps DFC, bottom left; the wreath laid by 3(F) Squadron Association, bottom right; the goat mascot of 609 Squadron*

* The goat is William de Goat, Mascot of 609 Sqn and written that way because it was a young Belgian Pilot, Vicki Ortmans who introduced him. William is Air Commodore DSO DFC, the Mascot of 609 (West Riding) Sqn. 609 was Jean de Selys first Sqn, and he was on that sqn at the time he attacked the Brussels Gestapo.  Thanks to Omer Vanden Bosch (Boomer) for this information.

There were flypasts from an RAF 3 Sqn Typhoon, and two Belgium F-16s fighter jets. The proposed flypast by a Hurricane from the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight was cancelled presumably due to the weather. Wreaths were laid by various groups, including the family, the Belgian air force, Belgian Embassy, the Royal British Legion and many others. There were many moving speeches and anecdotes, and the Squadron standard was paraded by the standard party of 3(Fighter) Squadron.  The whole event went off with military precision. Afterwards we were all invited to the Royal British Legion in Minster for a drink and a buffet. They laid on a magnificent spread and many new friendships were forged. Presentations were made to various organisers who enabled things to happen, like the fly-pasts and the erection of the marquee and many other incidentals without which the event would not have gone ahead. I sat and chatted with Bob Barckley who remarkably had come all the way from North Wales to attend, travelling the 200+ miles by taxi! He was determined to get there, despite the distance and his age, and thoroughly enjoyed the whole day.  As is usual for people who were in the war, he is totally unassuming about his role during the conflict. He flew with 3(F) Squadron and it’s Typhoons (the piston engineered variety, not the modern jet!) and was one of the pilots who destroyed V1 doodlebugs in that very fast aircraft. In fact one technique was to flip the wing of the V1 with his own wing, which upset the gyroscope within the machine and caused it to crash harmlessly. A modest, self-effusive man and one of many we should all be grateful for.

So after the farewells and handshakes it was off home. It was quite an experience, and one that shall stick in my memory for some time. That we still commemorate the exploits of those who fought and died so many years ago is testament to the esteem in which they are still held. It can’t be underestimated what a profound effect winning the 2nd world war has had on particularly this country, even after 68 years. If it had gone the other way, it doesn’t bear thinking about how our world would have ended up. We may not have a perfect existence, but due to men like Flying Officer Baron Jean De Selys Longchamps DFC and his ilk, we sure have one that is better than the alternative.

So Top Gear, what’s it all about? For the overseas readers, Top Gear (TG) is a British television programme ostensibly about cars, vehicles, transport and so on. A consumer programme it ain’t. There ARE some consumer driven pieces in it, but I’ll explain these later. Here’s me standing by the famous logo:

There was all sorts of vehicles in the hangar in Dunsfold in Surrey where the show is recorded. This is my daughter Charlotte standing by the Lamborghini, which was lovely and smelt heavily of leather; loads of cows must have shed their skin for this car. There was also the brand new London bus driven by James May, and a few of the ‘projects’ from previous series.

But I digress, what is it about this show that divides opinion so much but is also consistently voted one of the BBC’s top programmes? A friend of Charlotte’s works next door to where the show is recorded, and gets (free) tickets for friends and family. So because no-one else wanted them, she invited me to accompany her to watch TG being recorded. Luckily it’s quite near to where we live, but some people have driven the length of the country to get there. There’s a lot of standing about; for at least 4 hours, so it gets to your legs. The layout is pretty much as you see it on TV, but for each setup, the crew have to move the audience of about 1000 people so that they stand around the presenters next item. Its a bit like herding cats, but they get there in the end. The recording proceeds more or less in the order it appears in the final transmission: we see the inserts as they go along with Clarkson and co presumably slipping out for a ciggie. They use no Autocue, and rehearse the show in the morning. They’ve been doing it for so long, they have got it down pat. Clarkson is obviously the lead, but the other two Richard Hammond and James May are excellent foils.

The set-ups apart, the whole thing is run efficiently, and is recorded before 6 pm. I shall await with interest if my banter about parking on double yellow lines for short periods is kept in, but I doubt it. One of the most popular segments is the ‘Star in a Reasonably Priced Car’. This week it was Mark Webber, the Red Bull F1 driver who has recently announced he is departing the team. Clarkson’s interview with him lasted about 15 minutes, but this will probably be cut down to 5. Likewise the ‘News’ segment was recorded for over 20 minutes but will presumably be cut down. There was lots of swearing, off camera, and this was highlighted by ‘Outtakes’ tape they showed us, much of which was not broadcast able or even repeatable here.

The consumer segments, which in more traditional motoring programmes would include for example, everyday family cars, does not happen on TG. For instance, in this programme, Clarkson drives a Jaguar F type, about £80K, Hammond drives the new Range Rover which ‘starts’ at £50,000, and James May drives the ‘NBFL’, which stands for new bus for London; a snip at £300,000. BUT, it is totally produced in Britain, and this led on to the final segment which showed what is actually made in Britain, and the result seen on the screen is surprising. This was a breakaway from their usual jokey ending, possibly because it was the last one in the series; until next year. It just shows to go that the three presenters are serious journalists and well done to them for being so. Yes TG is more of a comedy show, than say the Channel 5 equivalent: fifth gear, which is a more serious consumer programme and gives appraisals of genuine family type cars. TG doesn’t even try to do this, but in its jokey manner can make serious comments about motoring in particular and life in general. Yes it has its detractors, but being the biggest money earner in the BBC’s inventory, I doubt if there’s any plans to shelve it soon. Clarkson joked that the only country in the world that doesn’t broadcast the show is France; I wonder why? Of course it’s really Jeremy Clarkson’s show, with the other two providing the foil to his sharp wit and acerbic comments, but it’s none the poorer for that.

So after 5 hours on our feet, we were glad to sit down in the car and get home. Two of the presenters were off to Venice that night, so it takes stamina to do that job. Me? I’ll settle down on Sunday night and try and catch my appearances on the show. I doubt they’ll be many.