Crisis, What Crisis?

 Bettany Hughes, OBE is a distinguished historian and teacher. She has published many books on classical history and made many television programmes bringing that history to life. One might have thought that all this erudition would have caused second thoughts at the commissioning of her latest TV series, which came to my attention tonight.

Source: Freeview website

We are still dealing with the after-effects of the covid pandemic. The war in Ukraine is creating massive international tensions and the soaring costs of fuel have led to unprecedented spending plans from the incoming Truss government which in turn have unsettled financial markets and caused the pound to fall to a seriously low level. For most people surviving this winter, without succumbing to infection or hypothermia, is the top priority. 

Does this crisis bother Ms Hughes? Not a bit. Far from embarking on another scholarly examination of, say, funeral practices in ancient Egypt or the cultural impact of Roman expansionism in the Middle East, she is gaily gallivanting across France and Italy, all expenses paid, to find out if travelling to some of the most agreeable destinations in the world and stuffing oneself daily at the finest restaurants can enrich one's life.

Let us pause a while, practice deep breathing and stare at something soothing. The basis of this show is that someone needs to discover if living well, living exceptionally well it may appear, is better than living the normal lifestyle to which all of us who are not TV presenters are accustomed. The subtext is this is some sort of unanswered question, something so basic and yet so baffling, that a top academic and a full TV crew must undergo the suffering that only those torn between the 7 course and the 8 course tasting menus, at a 3 Michelin star restaurant perched high above the glistening Mediterranean, will ever know. As to the agony of having to choose the most exotic aperitifs, the choicest of wines and, finally, how many petit fours to complete the feast, I shudder to think.

For this show to work there needs to be a counter-argument. I am no Hegelian but if the idea is that travel, arts, culture, boozing, fine dining and their ilk enrich, then there must be a contrasting viewpoint that these things detract and should be shunned.Otherwise it is merely a statement of the bleedin' obvious and can be settled within the first five minutes. So I really hope that in the first few episodes we see Hughes fasting, living in a barrel, drinking nothing more than water, reading nothing but sacred texts and otherwise staring at a brick wall, whilst perhaps indulging in a little light flagellation now and then  (it is on Channel 5, after all). Then, when she throws off the shackles, gleefully picks up the corkscrew, jumps into the Ferrari and roars off to Tuscany, she can truly claim to have discovered that living well is better than living with privations.

Once the enrichment begins, how will we know just how jolly well enriched Hughes has become? What this show needs is some sort of enrichment monitor, like the swingometer that gave us so much joy during general elections in the days before computer graphics, to measure the levels of enrichment each tantalising view and sumptuous dish provides. I visualise Hughes closing her eyes in ecstasy as she handles another Leonardo notebook or swallows another lobster, and then a man in a brown coat deftly nudges the pointer round another notch. "Yes, that's the 60% barrier broken" gushes the voice-over "And now I think she's going for the full-on 'My word, that's incredible' moment as she quaffs champagne on the sun-deck of a 200' luxury yacht cruising to Monte. This is very exciting, we haven't seen such a level of enrichment since Rob Brydon had his second free cruise in exchange for 20 seconds of footage of him smiling about it".

I don't need to see the last programme in the series. I have no doubt it will feature a somewhat plumper Hughes opening the windows of the Imperial Suite at her five star hotel in Rome, looking out on the sun-dappled forum and musing thoughtfully "This is so much more enriching than Mrs Irons' BnB in Lowestoft, I'm so glad now that I turned that down".  In fact, I don't need to see any of the programmes. I discovered many years ago that arts, culture, travel (this is the Ruislip Commuter blog after all) and a bloody good nosh-up were way better than their alternatives (whatever they may be) and I really don't need a TV presenter to confirm it.

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TV commissioning editors: If you feel there is room in the schedules for another "Let's go somewhere nice and then make a programme about how nice it is" show, and are looking for an acerbic, wryly amusing yet always sympathetic and really camera-friendly sort of guy to front it, I happen to have a window in my otherwise busy schedule. Actually quite a big window. More a sort of Versailles Hall of Mirrors size window, if you catch my drift. So anytime that suits you, really. Do call. Mrs C has been demanding more enrichment in her life for a while and the market for witticisms about commuting has been a flat lately, to tell you the truth.