Watched Joanna Lumley going up and down The Nile. Only seen the first part. Kinda irritating. Used to doin’ telly white English lady out in the midday sun, talking to the indigenes like they are kiddies, never interviewed a woman, and then she who must be adored pondering about the loveliness of living in the desert doin’ the Nomad style. Oh perleeze! And then in her wisdom voice really wondering if we’ve got it right in the West.
Well for a kick off if she uprooted to her house of twigs she wouldn’t be allowed to show her bosoms and lady legs, nor have a voice, and deffo have no ambitions. Woman remember.
She would be so better off testing the alternative life by joining in with the Eira family, drop the for- sensitive- skin facial wipes, slap on the moisturiser, ride out on a snowmobile and herd the deer. Bit of nomadicity and chunk of the West. Suit you better madam.
I can’t stand all those programmes where city dwellers opt to leave the “Rat Race” and join in , well try to join in, the country life and endorse the baking of home-made bread and berry picking as the superior way to go. In righteous union, they don their Ugg boots, slag off supermarkets and spend their redundancy dosh in village shops where sell by dates are an emblem of fussy townsfolk and frozen chips a sin against nature and manure mountains. Grrr. Give me a paid smiling greeter at Adsa anyday.
Never mind the happy clans of nomads and soil worshippers; let’s keep an eye on Irish townsfolk managing a mismanaged water disgrace.