Spring Walks, you would think, is feelgood telly. The crunch of boot on path. The upbeat presenter on an endorphin high. The baaing of lambs. And, above all, the wholesome twittering you don’t get from social media.
Not so. Spring Walks (BBC Four) is feelbad telly, even when fronted, as this first episode is, by the Dragons’ Den regular and crafting entrepreneur Sara Davies. It is the product of the same self-harming philosophy as 1970s kids’ show Why Don’t You Just Stop Watching TV and Go and Do Something Less Boring Instead? But, instead of bumptious teens telling you how you should be spending your summer holidays, Spring Walks weaponises virtue-signalling celebs to show you that what you’re doing is wrong.
The TV critic is the last person you want reviewing a walking programme. What do telly reviewers know about the great outdoors? Only that it’s out there. Was it Nietzsche who said: “Remain seated as little as possible … All prejudices take their origin in the intestines.” Yes it was. Shut up, Nietzsche. You don’t know me.
And there’s another problem. Spring? It’s still winter. I’ve scarcely seen the snowdrops yet.
But my biggest problem with Spring Walks can be best explained by reference to an old Finnish joke. Two men are in the pub. After a long silence, one pipes up: “Great beer.” The other says: “Are we here to drink or talk?” I feel the same way about Spring Walks; the walking to talking ratio is all screwy.
“This village,” says Davies of Fearsby, “is just something else.” But what, precisely, Sara? “This is a beautiful church. This is an absolutely beautiful church,” she says of St Paul’s in Healey. If this is going to be the level of insight, perhaps best spend the next half hour on silent mode.
“What was that noise?” Davies asks. The caption on screen tells us it’s the alarm call of the oystercatcher. “I wish I’d paid attention when me dad tried to tell us the sounds of all the birds.” We all do, Sara. “Wonder what type of crop it is?” she asks, strolling through a field. Wheat, sown in October for August harvest, answers the on-screen caption. Wheat sounds like white noise, the caption adds, while pasture grass sounds like crashing waves.
The poetry is in these captions; the commentary, not so much. Sentences begin unpromisingly and carry on in the same vein: “So, when they asked us to do Strictly … ” or “I was on the board of the big craft and hobby association in my early 20s … ”
But isn’t the virtue of solitary walking soulful communion with nature, not occasion to tell unseen viewers about your career and your brand? The best bit is when Davies stands on a bridge, closes her eyes and listens to the stream below. “It’s just like, I don’t know, calm and peaceful,” she says.
Like some latter-day Brian Johnston on Down your Way, she also quizzes passersby about what it is they do. Each one is improbably delightful and informative, as if pre-selected by the Yorkshire tourist board. The last sheep farmer in the village with his vintage tractor. Lord and Lady Swinton passing by on white horses. A goat on a trampoline, whose owner plans to make ethical artisanal soap from its milk. We never get to see the goat bounce, though.
Only seven years ago, this part of the world played host to a two-hour programme, All Aboard! The Country Bus. It followed the 830 DalesBus on its journey through Swaledale. It had no commentary, but was all the more hypnotic and soothing for that. It was part of BBC Four’s slow TV strand that also included The Sleigh Ride. I still recall the sound of compacting snow, the sight of reindeers’ breath, and the dearth of human yip-yap.
Today, instead, unsilenceable celebrities mediate every broadcasting format. When they aren’t on Pointless Celebrities, they’re guest editing the Today programme. But, perhaps Nietzsche is right: sitting has made me prejudiced. Davies is showing us that the right to roam is for everyone. Alone, apart from her selfie stick and little camera, she is reclaiming the countryside.
That said, this series may put people off walking. If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise. You’ll run into Dame Judi, Huw Edwards or a Love Island veteran on the footpath making a film and primed to ask you things. All things considered, best stay home watching telly.
