Tarzan, King Kong, Jim Carrey and the Amazon river can all take second prize on this one, because the true king of the jungle is Mr. Raymond Mears, of North Devon.

Ray's shows are great, he may be a trifle out of tune with latest developments in popular culture and the normal stream of media-filtered horsesh*t we receive from every channel and every station at every opportunity, but that's a good thing, surely? The thing that makes him king is that he cares in a totally unassuming way.

He has to be about the least pretentious person imagineable as he gives out advice that from anyone else would seem patronising, even condescending.

His trick is to tell you what's what about salmon fishing after you just watched him catching a salmon leaping up a waterfall in his hands, while dangling from a rope woven from the pubic hair of a Leopard or some suitably insane thing, and he will do so in such a mundane way. A mundane man doing insane things, and being not the least bit arrogant about it.

I just realised that much watching him hike across the Antarctic, always busy and always learning more about survival in any environment; King of the Jungle indeed (and Ice Floe, and Desert, and Moor, and ......)

Other things I learned this weekend:

1 - Colds don't take hints.

2 - There is not a tree on this Earth that can withstand the lumberjackerly intentions of a suburban mother armed with a spade.

3 - I may actually be good at something else (that makes it three things now, then ) as my technical project is taking shape nicely and even looks far from a disaster as I would have predicted, it actually looks like it might be good!!.

But more on that tomorrow. Watch this space ...