S01E02: Ramble
[We're outside, Alan is out with Seldom in a place popular with many other dog-owners]
Excuse me, excuse me your dog's taken my dog's stick! Can you tell him to put it down?
[pause]
Cheers!
[pause]
I know there's loads of sticks it's just that that was his one!
[pause]
And if there's loads of them you can get another one can't you? [louder, more irritable] I said if there's loads of them you can get another one can't you?!
Dick!
[to Seldom] Go on, catch!
Did you know that there are dry stone walls in Cornwall that are over 7000 years old?
Did you know that the British magpie population has quadrupled in recent years?
Did you know that most badgers don't carry TB?
Did you know that under an old by-law, if you cut down an oak tree on private land you can still be hanged? ...For it?
I did, because I love the countryside!
My name is Alan Partridge, and this is my podcast. From The Oasthouse.
[theme music]I'm Alan Partridge, this is my podcast. From The Oasthouse!
Although today you might think I should be Alan Partridge far from the Oasthouse. Because, as you might be able to hear, I'm outside doing one of the things I like most. I'm rambling!
I don't mean talking incessantly, erm, with no focus. I'm not- I was going to say Lorraine Kelly, but she's not a rambler, she is a witterer, and it's a slightly different thing. No, I mean in traversing the lands, to enjoy, and ingest, nature. I do so love to walk. And this will come as a surprise to many because of my well known passion for the concept of vehicles.
And my well known hatred of, er, of bikes, and people on bikes. Not all bikes, I hasten to add. I should point out I'm a big fan of bobbies on bicycles, and even have a vintage pushbike with a basket and a bell, myself.
I've been known to tuck my trousers in my socks, ride into the village and 'bring bring!' at my wife's friend, or 'bring bring!' at the chap who works in the garage, or if I see the neighbour who complained about me idling my car engine in the morning I'll ride up behind him silently then 'bring bring!' "MORNING GRAHAM!", right in his ear!
No, when I say cyclists I'm talking about the non-locals, er... who descend on Norfolk every weekend like brightly-coloured locusts because I think any right-minded person feels a wave of revulsion when they see a bunch of 50-year-old cyclists standing outside a shop, it's a ridiculous sight! Middle-aged, skinny men with a bit of a paunch, clad in Lycra so they... [catches a breath] they look like retired superheroes who can't find their capes!
And the newsagent doesn't know what's going on! Five minutes ago, he was selling a local farmer a packet of tobacco, now they're selling high-end protein bars to men who look awful! Wear ordinary clothes to ride! What- what aerodynamic benefit do they think they're getting, wobbling up a hill at six miles an hour? The entire enterprise is mindless! If the objective was to get somewhere quickly you'd drive!
Er... This is... sorry, I meant... This episode is a live, real-time ramble so it might not be as refined as it is in the house, that's part of the fun!
I'm in my wellies, which when you're in the countryside is the 'chiropodal' or 'peedal' equivalent of a Range Rover! It means I can go where it's boggy. And you can't do that in a pair of Scholls! Erm... Let's go this way.
And this is the beauty of podcasting, the freedom of the medium! You know, could I do this with a radio show, not on your Nellie! With podcasting, it's just you and a mic. If it was a radio show, we'd be carting around two microphones, a mixing desk with jingles and adverts, a telephone switchboard, and there'd be me, some sort of sidekick, the guy with a degree who reads the news, a producer and an assistant producer, whatever that is, and then the woman from the sales team who keeps coming in every five minutes to say don't forget to mention the weather's sponsored by Millets!
[suddenly falling over] Ah, oh Jesus Christ! Ah! Aaah, CHRIST! [picking himself back up] It's alright,
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine!
Ha ha ha, that's the great thing about the countryside, you can fall over, it doesn't matter!
[theme music sting]
It occurred to me, actually, when I was on one of these walks, that you can compare radio stations to infantry because they're they're ordered but slow moving. Whereas a podcast is more akin to Special Forces, light and agile with minimal kit. You get in, get it done and get out!
And just as radio stations have their own 'Geneva Convention' in the form of Ofcom regulations, with podcasting, and special forces, it's more of a grey area. You can do what you want! As long as bad people die, or you maintain the people's interest, you can ride roughshod over human rights, or ignore Ofcom, and that's as it should be!
The Norfolk countryside is very much part of my life. It's who I am.
The footpaths are my arteries, the trees are my bones, the open space is my lungs. The grass is my hair, the canals, the ponds, er... my-my bladder, my bowel.
And I wouldn't be painting a full and accurate picture of myself if I didn't share my love of the countryside with you. That's why I'm outside. And, er, also a chap from Rentokill is fumigated the house to kill some mice.
It's sad to think that's where once a child would be playing on a tyre here, now they're at home in their bedrooms, playing Call of Duty, or looking at, er- or looking at porn!
And whilst it means that there's no chance of them falling into a gravel pit, like they used to, it still means they're looking at porn. Come on!
Trees are my porn, I bloody love them!
Why not show this place off, it's, er... just because it's local and everyday doesn't mean it's not thrilling.
I mean, look around, for crying out loud! Honestly, people are so dazzled aren't they, by the exotic? Be it a bird of paradise, a coral reef, a brightly-coloured tree frog, a topless mum in a tribe! But what about what's right in front of you?
And bear in mind this is on my own doorstep! It's funny, when friends of mine come to the Oasthouse, they say "It's quite small, isn't it? How come it cost you so much?". I just point out the window and say, "Are you blind? That doesn't come cheap. Look at what your house backs onto, a primary school! Mine backs on to that!".
And they say "Oh, I like the sound of children playing!" and I just shoot straight back - with a chuckle, with a chuckle - "You're a liar! What's your problem?! Why does it cause you so much pain to admit to the unremarkable fact that I have a better house than you?!". [laughs indignantly]
If they're gonna say something nasty, chuckle it out. They can't take offence. And then you can just knife 'em. Did that with my ex-wife.
"Don't you go to the gym anymore?" You know, things like that.
[theme music sting]
I walk for inspiration. I was on this, er... very squelchy footpath a year ago they came up with a Hollywood film idea. Er, it's called 'Gethsemane' with Liam Neeson. No idea what the story is yet, I can address that once interest firms up. The poster could be Neeson wearing a biblical robe, looking pensive. In his left hand he has a pair of rosary beads in his right hand, A Glock 9 composite compact firearm.
Here's another film idea I had. Bruce Willis is an architect. He is sat on a high stool, drawing something architectural on one of those slanted desks. An owl hoots. Cut to him driving in the rain, the wipers are going billy-oh - vib-vib! vib-vib! vib-vib! - suddenly a woman staggers from the woods in front of him.
He slams on the anchors. [makes sound of a car screeching to a stop]
Her clothes are torn, "Please help me!" she says, "Somebody tried to rape me!". Willis puts a blanket around her shoulders, she could be played by Halle Berry. Or failing that, you know, Queen Latifah in which case we'll need a bigger blanket. And I'm not sure what would happen but clearly there's a seed of something quite special there.
It just needs some investment. And, er... you know... But it's a good idea. It's a really good idea!
To psych myself up for a big walk, what I might do is head to a camping shop, and ask the assistant, for example, what tog figure is on various fleeces. And if he comes back in a flash and reels off something about a tri-climate GoreTex with duck down, then I know this guy's worth talking to.
But if I ask "How good is this at wicking away sweat, what's the wickage of this thing?", and he looks startled by me using the word 'wick'. Or he says, "What you mean wick like a candle?". Or if he says, "Oh, I'll just go and find out" then I'll let him wander off. He can wander back if he likes, but I won't be there. I'll be long gone.
Either that or I'll be the leafing through the fat socks. Buy a couple of pairs, chuck them in the drawer when I get home. Love it.
Just walking over here, these wilds are native to Norfolk, much like myself, is known as Whoring Mullen. And that has nothing to do with Jackie Mullen who used to drink in the Boxley Wheatsheaf, that was just a nickname because he she did sports massage.
Didn't come from me, came from a jovial chap who sits by himself in the local pub, very affable fellow. Although sometimes you walk past you can see him alone in there, staring out of the window, sadly.
As soon as you pop in he's he's all puns and funny voices again. I think to myself, "Cheer up, it might never happen!", but, er... but maybe it has happened! You know when you s- sorry I just trumped then - when you see someone grumpy, you need to think, what- what it if wife died suddenly one Christmas? We've no idea!
What if he was in the Falklands and he had to smother a dog who was about to give away his location? We've no idea! Perhaps he once saw a boy fall down a well, and he told the boy to recite nursery rhymes with him right while they waited for the fire brigade so, so they knew he was still conscious, you know? But then the nursery rhymes ground to a halt and he's saying "Three bags what?! Full! Say full! Say full, please say full!". So, you know, We've no idea.
[theme music sting]
Ah! What a sight this is! A field, replete with Friesian cows. Such sad eyes, docile bovines.
I often stand here and share my thoughts with them, tell- tell them about my film ideas. Share a poem if I've written one.
I often stand here and share my thoughts with them, tell- tell them about my film ideas. Share a poem if I've written one.
Best way to summon them is to moo.
[Alan performs a few long, slightly pained mooing sounds]
Sorry it sounded like someone revving a bike. If you get the tone right you can often get a call-and-response. You moo, they moo, you moo, they moo
You moo.
[Alan makes another mooing sound]
[to a passer-by] Morning, morning. No, I'm just trying to get these cows to moo. Lovely morning! Would you like to hear a quick poem called Autumn Leaves? These cows don't seem interested.
No, it's one I've written, it's called Autumn Leaves. Great! Great! [Alan reads]
Autumn Leaves
How sad, the falling of leaves of autumn.
How melancholic, the passing autumn, half 'twixt summer and winter.
How melancholic, the brown sludge of fallen autumn leaves
Gone, the crunch underfoot,
Now the squelch of rain-sodden brown,
How sad, how triste, this season 'twixt summer, not yet winter.
And yet it is not bleak like the midwinter
It is not unforgiving.
So let us stay a while here.
Replete in the clemency of autumn.
Swaddled in coats, but not too big.
Replete in jumper, chunky socks.
My hair grows longer now.
Warm strands of my lower hair, to keep warm my neck.
Heck! It's cold.
But now winter comes, and Autumn Leaves.
Okay, thanks. Bye now! That went well, got a very firm thumbs up from her which is nice.
Anyway, I have to say, people often mock ramblers. I mean it's hardly survivalism, although I did once tell Bear Grylls if he ever got stung by a nettle, as a balm, a sort of anaesthetic, he could use a squished-up dock leaf.
He said, "Yeah, I know", but... I don't think he did. Bear Grylls and other ex-members of the SAS often scoff at ramblers, but- but they're not so different. I mean, ramblers reward themselves at the end of a long hike with a flask of tea and a chocolate bar and, er, the SAS reward themselves at the end of a long hike by, you know, taking the life of an Afghan man in a cave.
But, er, one thing remains constant at the end of a long hike everyone needs a reward! And my reward is, or are, the trees!
I... Food is always important and don't just prepare for the things you think you will need on the walk, plan for the unplanned eventuality. "Be prepared", as they say in the scouts. "Adapt or die!" as they say in the Marines. And to that end when I go out, I always pack loads of food and my clothing!
I stash food in every orifice of my garments. Because if I were to fall down a ravine and lose the use of both arms, I know that with my mouth, I could unzip my left shoulder pocket and eat a cheese triangle.
And for afters, I could eat two chocolate Tracker bars from my right shoulder. If I lean forward [vocal chords constricted from leaning forward] I could drink some orange squash from my thigh. Similarly, if I lie on my back and unzip the toggle for my knee pocket they lift my legs in the air, two Penguins should slide out.
[in frustration] COME OOOON! Aaah!
That didn't work.
Just got a wet back now.
[theme music sting]
There's a few cottages here. they tend to be weekend boltholes for wealthy Londoners so you can, during the week, you can peep in to the... to the window and, er... not worry about being shouted at. Always very interesting to have a look into through window. It's like a game you can you can sort of look... look at what they've got inside and try and figure out who they are and, you know, what the story is . There's always a story behind, er...
I can see two sets of boots. Definitely looks like a man's... man's wellie, wellie with an E, and some small ones. So I know straight away a child comes here. Doesn't look like the there are any women's size wellies so I'm assuming he's divorced... and has the child occasionally... I'm guessing every other weekend.
Let's have a look over here.
This is the sort of 'sitting room-cum-lounge'. Bookshelf, let's have a look. I can see an SAS book on extreme survival, he's got The Diary of Samuel Pepys... The Diary of Alan Clark. Bill Bryson, Bill Oddie, I mean, the guy's obviously got a brain.
What's she got, let's have a look... Well, there's three Jilly Cooper books. That's another good sign. No wonder she left him. I imagine she was quite demanding. "Why can't you whisk me off my feet at a polo tournament?", "Why can't you ravish me in a stable and run your own business instead of working in the public sector and going on about Adrian's wall".
It's quite clear he wanted to educate himself, whereas she wanted a lifestyle. He likes knowledge. She likes things.
And yet he probably only stays with his dad every other weekend. So... so what's that? That's two days out of every fourteen. So that's 15% of the time he's been given insight into history, geography, ornithology... while at least 85% of the time the poor kid's having his brain addled with stories are sexy showjumpers who can't choose between the lord who gives her money and the stable hand who ravishes her in the barn and I mean... God help the poor kid.
Just coming around to the kitchen, have a look...
Yeah. There's a... a dog basket? Yeah, I'll probably take the dog when they come down at the weekend. Looks like some takeaway boxes stacked in the bin. Remnants of an Indian curry poking out that's pretty much confirmation it's a divorced man.
Where there's a curry house around here though... You gotta go... four... I'd say a good four miles before you find a curry house. You've got to be pretty desperate to drive that far there and back instead of just rustling up something yourself. I mean, bloody hell, spag bol, mac and cheese. Fried egg sandwich! He's obviously not in a good place.
I hope he's washing himself...
Here's the garage that adjoins the house. I'm always curious about how people use that garage whether they use it for a car or are just as a receptacle for any kind of odds and ends. Just, er... try the door.
Open. Oh, curious!
I'll just have a little nosy, can't do any harm. Doesn't look like it's alarmed. So... yeah. Fascinating, he's got a - under a dust sheet, let's see what it is - It's a Honda Civic, 2001. They get the train down on the weekend, they use the Civic to run around. Yeah. It's great being sort of an amateur sleuth.
Deflated lilo. Some leaves have blown in.
Deflated lilo. Some leaves have blown in.
Bike there, check the tires. Flat, of course they are. He bought that when he thought he was going to get fit, again, after his marriage fell apart, thought he could win her back and then, like the tires, the air went out of the idea.
Shit, shit! Someone's coming!
"Hello? Is someone there?".
[whispered to himself] Oh fuck!
"I can see your feet round the back of the car".
Oh, all right then, hello. Hi. Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm not... I, er...
"What are you doing?".
I was just looking at your car and your house and then I panicked.
"You were looking at my house?".
I was just peeping, just, like I'm not... just a peep. I'm not a peeping Tom, just peeping man. I was just, er... I was being a bit nosy, I live... I live over these... I'm Alan Partridge, by the way.
"Yeah, I know who you are".
Oh, thank you. Thank you!
Er, I was actually checking when I was walking past the house on the public footpath, I came past and noticed the door was ajar.
"Okay...".
So now I was just checking, and actually I just thought it was just curious, but, yeah, I'll be on my way.
"Yes, if you would, yeah".
Could I, do you mind me asking a quick quick quick question, are you divorced?
"Yes".
Great. Good.
"Do you wanna... go?".
Yes, er, should I go out the garage door or the rear door?
"Just the way you came in".
This way? Bye! Thank you. Sorry about trespassing... sorry I trumped.
[Alan leaves]
I should probably turn back actually. Not that it's a dodgy area, it's not backward or anything, it's actually quite upmarket. Less Deliverance more Deliveroo! Gotta do stand-up.
I mean, there's a point in... when you're going on a ramble, you think "I've had enough of nature! Starting to get on my nerves!"
Sometimes if I'm really fed up. I'll just, er, go around kicking the heads of flowers. Wild Ones, wild ones! I would never kicked the heads of some beautiful garden roses but, er, if I see a little group of daffodils or snowdrops, yeah I'll kick their heads off if I'm in a mood!
[into telephone] Lynn?
Lynn, I've been on a long walk and I want you to come and get me.
Can you come and get me? Lynn, I need you to come and get me.
Erm... I'm... hrm...
Do you remember where you got stuck in a bog and we had to lasso you with a rope and we pulled you out of your wellies, and you got upset about leaving them because they belonged to your mum?
Yeah, there.
I'm there.
Doesn't matter what the conditions are, you've been driving for over thirty years, Lynn! If the car skids what do you do? Take your feet off the pedals and steer, if the back end comes out, turn into the skid and if you can keep your foot on the throttle, you should be able to power-slide sideways around the bend.
A critical impact is a mathematical certainty, so come to terms with that quickly! You will have time, I know it will be quick but it won't seem quick because time slows down in a catastrophic collision.
Oh Christ, I can't believe I'm- of course you're going to be upset...
If the car's still upright, exit the vehicle. If the car's upside down, Lynn listen to me, listen to me, just release the seatbelt carefully and lower yourself on to the roof which is now the floor. Crawl across it, beware of broken glass and there will be broken glass...
You can always bandage your hands. Lynn, it's... [snort] it's fine it'll be like having teddy bear hands for a month. You just won't be able to open your Murray Mints. No I'll just line them up on a shelf and you can go over and suck them off as and when. Now come and get me! Quick as you like!
What I'm going to do now is just take off my microphone and, just as a technical... just gonna take off the microphone and put it on a ledge here so that as I walk away, [away from mic] the sound fades into the distance. It's sort of sound technique and it will feel more like an ending, and then I'll come back and get the microphone afterwards. But that won't be on the podcast.
Well, this is Alan Partridge returning to the Oasthouse. I do love the elements, but when I get home I'm gonna make myself a big beef burger and watch Thunderball!
[in the distance] Goodbye!
[after a pause, we hear the sound of frantic running back through gravel to breathlessly retrieve the microphone]
[closing music]
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