It’s Mexico at the double
THERE’S a bit of a Mexican theme going on tonight.Well, all right, there isn’t really, not as such, but there are two programmes with Mexico in them (possibly even more, I must confess I haven’t done a trawl) and they’re back-to-back and they’re both jolly good, so that’ll do.
The first is the latest episode of RICK STEIN’S ROAD TO MEXICO, enjoying another airing on BBC2 (7pm), where this week our host reaches Mexico City. Rick is particularly taken by the chinampas, which sounds jolly painful, especially as he’s not getting any younger, but which actually means he’s impressed by the city’s floating vegetable gardens.
Straight after that, on Channel 5, we’re making our way across Mexico’s northern region in episode three of THE WORLD’S MOST SCENIC RAILWAY JOURNEYS (8pm), that wonderfully meandering series that’s as close as we’re able to get right now to just sitting on a train and gazing aimlessly out of the window, enjoying the wonderful scenery (the Tarahumara Mountains, Urique Canyon, can’t say either means a lot to me, but they do look amazing) and letting our minds wander.
Elsewhere, STEVIE WONDER: A MUSICAL HISTORY (BBC Four,
10pm) has apparently been on before, just a couple of years ago. I must admit I hadn’t realised that. I really ought to pay more attention. Having said that, would I have watched it? And will I be watching it tonight? Tough one. My problem is, Stevie Wonder is a genius. He’s overcome disability, prejudice and the humblest of upbringings to become one of the greatest, most respects pop stars on the planet.
He’s written songs that lift the heart and send the spirits soaring, celebrated here by celebrity fans including Martin Freeman, Beverley Knight,Alexander O’Neill and Trevor Nelson.
For Once In My Life. My Cherie Amour. Superstition. Higher Ground. Living For the City. The list of Stevie’s gems goes on and on.
But StevieWonder also wrote I Just Called To Say I Love You, and I really, really hate that song. I hate it so much it makes me weep. Especially that cha-cha-cha bit at the end. God, that’s so annoying.
The thought of it suddenly springing out of nowhere and assaulting my ears, halfway through what’s otherwise going to be an hour of sheer musical joy, well, I’m just not sure it’s a risk worth taking.
Not least because it’s bound to be the one which then becomes an earworm, going round and round in my head, night after night, for goodness knows how long.Weeks, probably.
It’s taken me a fortnight to stop We’ll Meet Again doing that.