Hot bods and snogs, so what’s not to like?

THE sound of leather on willow, the pock of tennis balls on grass, the glistening sight of buff bronzed bodies on our screens. Summer starts here. Tomorrow we’re all going back to Love Island. Scorchio!

Season four opens with an extralong episode of sun and sangria on ITV2, a heady cocktail aimed at the nation’s 12 to 29. But even as a matronly village elder, I will be unashamedly glued.

True, there are some changes to the rules this year. After complaints (cough) there is to be no full nudity even in the showers, and no smoking in Villa Amore, the island mansion.

And none of what the Victorians called the sin of Onan.

But it will take more than a few restrictions to stop me settling down with a limitless supply of pina colada.

Caroline Flack the saucepot presenter (right) put it best: ‘You see the show on the surface and you think, “Oh it’s just a lot of scantily-clad people in a villa, just getting off with each other,” but it’s not. I think anyone who watches it realises it’s a lot more than that.” Quite right. Love Island is like every reality TV show you’ve ever watched, but with all the boring bits (cooking, eating, sleeping, cosy cats) edited out. And instead we get a compelling cavalcade of hot bods, make-ups and break-ups – and 24/7 bitchin’. In other words, addictive viewing, for our troubled and trivial times. You have been warned.