Putting the Coronation in Corrie, it’s the Queen in her Hilda Ogden scarf
The Queen, say many who know her, would have been happiest as a farmer, had she not been born royal. Countryfile Royal Special: Sandringham (BBC1) gave us a tantalising glimpse of a far more alternative universe, where her Majesty scrubbed clothes in a tin tub and kept ferrets.
Few have pictured elizabeth R with her headscarf knotted over a full set of hilda Ogden curlers, as she inspects a loft of prize pigeons in the back yard of a terraced house in Bradford or Barnsley. But why not? She’d certainly put the Coronation in Corrie Street.
her enthusiasm for racehorses is famous. It turns out she’s equally thrilled by racing pigeons, and keeps a champion roster in her loft at the Norfolk estate, proudly entering competitions that her father and grandfather, Georges V and VI, also longed to win.
The true Sport of Kings, apparently, is that archetypal Northern occupation of pigeon fancying.
her loft manager, Peter Farrow, was so proud of the Queen’s devotion to her flock that, overcome with emotion, he had to be comforted by presenter Matt Baker.
Matt proved himself no novice with pigeons, as he cupped his hands around one before inspecting its feet and tail feathers. That’s one of the pleasures of this show: all the presenters seem at ease in its rural world. This isn’t just a job, an unfortunate diversion from their existence in the media bubble: this is real life.
And the Sandringham grounds, where the Queen spends much of each winter, are her real life, too — much more, you might suspect, than the state banquets and the parades. here she breeds gun dogs, and trains them for field trials.
One of her favourite litters of labradors in the Sixties was named after a pop group . . . not the Beatles, who had disgraced themselves by smoking dope in a palace loo when they collected their MBes in 1965, but a lesser combo: Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich.
At least you can imagine that lot wagging their tails. It would be harder to train animals named after the Rolling Stones — though Keef, Charlie, Brian, Mick and Bill would make excellent ferrets.
Countryfile is such a slick production that none of the segments on the Sandringham gardens, blackcurrant fields, herds of red poll cattle or conservation projects lasted long enough to be in danger of becoming obsequious.
They were interspersed with plenty of film from the Royal Family archives, including footage of the young Princess elizabeth harvesting wheat with a shire horse.
We saw rare pictures, too, shot by the Duke of edinburgh as he piloted a light aircraft over flooded Norfolk villages, after the sea defences burst in 1953 killing hundreds — a grim sight.
The prize for the grimmest views went to Hidden (BBC4), a noirish thriller set on Anglesey that will have the North Wales tourist board weeping in despair.
The Menai Bridge looked like a guillotine stretched across black water, and every hillside was disfigured by a gaping quarry.
This eight-part crime drama, centred on a female detective’s hunt for a missing teenage girl, is partly in english, partly in subtitled Welsh.
It’s derivative of classic Scandi police thrillers, and began with the kidnapper chasing his prey through the woods at night after she made a desperate attempt at escape — exactly the scene that opens the first season of The Killing, the Danish serial that started the genre.
But the characters are strong, and the slow pace is hypnotic. Just don’t watch it for the scenery.