I sat with gritted teeth as Laurence Llewelyn Bowen and his family embarked on a luxury safari.

The man's dress sense is enough to make you reach for the imaginary hunting gun.

If only Dick Cheney was on hand.

There are 10,000 animals, none quite as bizarre as Llewelyn Bowen, whose species and sex are hard to classify.

"There's a flaw in this paradise," he said. "safari starts before breakfast."

An all expenses paid holiday of a lifetime and we're supposed to watch you complain?

"How does one dress for the majesty of the African safari?" he pondered.

If there were any justice he'd be sporting nothing else but a loin cloth smeared with tasty pig blood and left to debate fashion with a pride of lions. And hyenas. And vultures.

Laurence joked that a herd of antelope needed counselling after watching a baby antelope carcass being devoured by wild dogs. No. They'd just seen his floral blouse.

Next up the show featured a murder mystery weekend If only Llewelyn Bowen had gone on that holiday.

There'd be no shortage of suspects or motives if a floral blood-stained shirt wafted down on to the murder scene.

You could always pin it on the Rhino.