Now, I’m sure every country in the world has at least one idiot like this tucked away somewhere, but how they end up presenting their own television program, week after week, is beyond me…
We, here in jolly old England, have the shy, retiring and very placid woodsman, Ray ‘yawn, yawn and thrice yawn’ Mears. And, what he doesn’t know about surviving out in the wild, could be carved on a soldier ant’s bog seat – but God he’s a boring old fart! And consequently about as stimulating as a waterlogged firework that went out for a walk in the rain, minus an umbrella, and dressed in a matching two-piece sponge ensemble.
He’s been absolutely everywhere and filmed his exploits and, and he gets paid for it – unbelievable! It’s just a shame he had a personality bypass before his woodcraft career began. Yes, he has an extensive range of knowledge, and yes, you could dump him anywhere on the planet, with no more than a knotted handkerchief and a quarter dolly mixtures, and he’ll survive. But really, what’s the bloody point?
Am I going to face a grizzly bear in north London or find myself dehydrated while walking up my local high street? No, is the short answer to that. His wife must be on the verge of a break-down I should think. He can rub two boy scouts to start a fire, but he can’t work out how to turn on the bloody central heating – twat!
And he’s clearly forgotten what a supermarket looks like, because his wife asked him to go out and get something for an evening meal and he came back with a bag of wild mushrooms, [well, livid actually], a brace of hornet’s breasts, and two haunches of road kill. (Species still unverified.)
Mrs ‘Oh no, soppy bollocks has gone walk-about again’ Mears can’t even ask him to do any housework either. Last week he took all the washing down to a local river and started battering it against a rock. It was a great effort on his part, and three days later everything was spotlessly clean. Unfortunately, every item of clothing was full of holes and still wet.
And he hasn’t got a clue how to use any electrical goods you know! His better half asked him to tackle the vacuuming a few days ago, while she went to work. She came home to find him using the ‘Cyclone Vortex Carpet Sucker 4000; only to discover that Nanook of the north hadn’t plugged it in! And the other day he said, “Don’t worry love, I’ll make the beds,” and when she returned from the psychiatrists, he’d chopped them up, made a canoe, and erected hammocks in every room. But, to do this, he’d pulled up six fir trees from the garden to tie them too. What a spanner!
It’s the film crew I feel sorry for, they have to eat what he cooks at the end of a very long day. Imagine the scene. You’ve just sat down after hours of listening to him banging on about the benefits of eating cuckoo spit soup, and you’re hoping for a plateful of steak and chips and a few beers, and what do you get – a starter of bluebells and bat droppings, a main course that could range from anything from a stickleback sandwich to a slice of woodpecker’s bum en croute, followed by a dollop of vole and mint ice cream. Well, whoop-de-bloody-do!
Of course, having all the knowledge of woodcraft under your belt and surviving in the elements, even though you have a perfectly comfortable home, is just part of the irony. His documentaries are maticulously planned out before he sets off. So, if you’re a first-timer, this is what you would need to survive in the Gobi desert for one night:
one four-man camera crew and a fully laden 4 x 4, (50 grand should cover that). You might want to take a small tanker of water too, oh, and a bucket of anti snake bite venom. Now all you need to do is arrange transportation for all of the above, book some first class air tickets, find £200,000 to pay for it, and you’re good to go! Now, call me cynical but, it’s hardly roughing it, is it? That a holiday!
“Always carry a parachute with you,” he says What! Even when you go to the dentist? Now, when I wake up in the morning, my main priorities are, my first cigarette of the day and how quickly I can make that first all important cup of tea. When Ray wakes up his first thoughts are, “Why am I covered in owl droppings again.” and, “Suppose I better start a fire.”
No wonder he hasn’t got a proper job, it takes him too long to produce anything. He arrives on site, somewhere in the Amazon rain forest, with nothing more than a knotted handkerchief and an axe and, first things first, he has to build a shelter. Well there’s two hours of your life you’ll never see again! So, after hanging up his hammock and covering it with a mosquito net, off he trots to find something to eat, while looking for the 16 basic types of wood you need to start the fire in the first place. Personally, I’d smash up that chair I made! Bang goes another two bloody hours!
So, after foraging in the undergrowth you find your quarry. Usually some poisonous berries or roots, which need to be boiled in water to remove the toxins, and then you set about lighting your fire. And, as if by magic 16 hours later, your evening meal is ready. And what does he say to camera, with an inane look of his face? “My, that’s tasty,” as he chomps his way through a billycan of brown mush that you wouldn’t give to a guinea pig. Well he’s going to say that isn’t he, he’s bloody starving!
Moving on, if you’re spending time under the stars in the Grand Canyon, keep an eye out for anything with teeth and claws that weighs around 800 pounds, and could be between 5 and 8 feet tall – it’s probably just be a grizzly bear. And here are a few of ‘Davy Crockett’s top tips to avoid be eaten: don’t visit the Grand Cayon. Never offer it a sandwich, and stay calm, even though the compulsion to change into a pair of brown corduroys is the first thing on your mind.
Can you play dead? Yes, but personally, I’m all in favour of of the odds of running like fuck in the opposite direction, despite being informed by Mr Mears that you shouldn’t! Should you attempted to climb the nearest tree? If you think it will help. But I should warn you, as big as they are; even bears aren’t adverse to shinning up up a silver birch for a spot of lunch!
The final piece of usless advice from our intrepid twit is, always stay down wind from the bears. Well that’s just great. What if they’re behind you? Bloody idiot! Right, I’m off, my slug and humming bird pizza has just arrived…
[observation: 630 episodes I’ve watched, and not once did he make a toilet – the dirty, dirty devil!]
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