Sandy’s Grand Riviera Railroad Trip: Almost nothing on television sparks joy like Toksvig’s effortlessly entertaining dog | television

A A small figure waves at us across the blazing stretch of beach. We are getting tentatively close. Who is this nodding squint? Closer inspection reveals a hat (reasonable) and a suitcase (brown). Heart jumps. Could it be Paddington? Closes. It’s Sandi Toksvig. “This,” she says, as the camera swoops over her shoulder to reveal a surprising stretch of Mediterranean coast, “is my great Riviera rail journey.” A montage of upcoming attractions sets our guide’s booth. Here is Toksvig eating fish soup in an apron; Toksvig bobbed, like a seal, in an infinity pool; Toksvig walked up a flight of stairs, her eyelashes bouncing like a blond tramp in the breeze. The idea? “I want to explore the region’s rich past and vibrant present,” she says. “A simple rail journey of just over a hundred miles” allows it to welcome the artists, writers and “free thinkers” who helped transform the Riviera from an undulating ribbon of sleepy fishing villages into “one of the world’s dream destinations.”

So, it’s all aboard the Toksvig Express on the first of a four-part journey along the Côte d’Azur.

“It’s going to be hell,” she says, the sun glinting on the olives in her martini.

With Sandy’s Grand Riviera Rail Journey (Saturday 29 November, 8.05pm, Channel 4), Toksvig joins Joanna Lumley, Romesh Ranganathan, Michael Palin, Joe Lycett, Rylan Clarke, Danny Dyer, Danny Dyer and Uncle Tom Copley, all of whom follow the old and venerable TV celebrity tradition of going to another country and then wearing linen there. But this isn’t some Love Islander giggling their way through Foreignistan in a tuk-tuk. This is Sandy Toksvig. This may not exactly be a national treasure (too surprising, too political), but it certainly leaps toward national trinket status. She’s effortlessly entertaining company, too, whether strolling around Edith Wharton’s terraced garden in the hills above Hyères (“Oh, I wish she were here. We could have tea”) or meeting the donkeys who help keep the Plage des Pampelonnes litter-free (“What’s that guy’s name? Justin? Wonderful.”)

This isn’t the QI host’s first travel trip, of course. Extraordinary Escapes finds her traveling around the UK in a selection of Britain’s worst evasions. However, the series has proven conclusively that Toksvig is one of television’s greatest thieves. There are a few cheery scenes like the little Dane, wearing a scarf, strolling merrily around the museum, or scurrying down a continental alley, like Womble who has just been kicked out of the boulangerie after a misunderstanding about eclair. There are many such walks here, most of which are undertaken while our hooded guide clutches a small bag, the contents of which remain a mystery (my guess: marmalade sandwiches). So off we go to Sanary-sur-Mer, where a local historian shepherds Toksvig through the region’s pre-World War II creative boom, when an influx of exiled German writers transformed the elegant seaside town into a lively literary salon. (Main takeaway: Aldous, a resident of Sanare, a “brave new world.” Huxley believed the newcomers were, by and large, corrupt.) And after that? There’s bouillabaisse, a boat trip, a short stay in the market square for a game of ‘let’s watch some pensioners play pétanque for a while’, and finally, a visit to a lively vineyard for a restorative dose of rosé.

It’s fun, simple stuff, even if there’s sometimes a feeling that we’re not getting the full Toksvig. Some of the technical sections feel inconsistent and there are points, such as the scene in which Toksvig reflects on Wharton’s feminist credentials, in which she suspects Channel 4 is waiting for the conversation to stop so she can go back to looking at the donkeys.

But enough quibbling. The sky is blue, the sea is a cocktail dress of marbled teal, and everyone from Toksvig (“Isn’t that wonderful?”) to Justin (“…”) is clearly having a ball.

“What’s not to like about your Grand Riviera rail trip?” Toksvig asks, peering through her binoculars into the sea, as if suddenly concerned that a passing crab might make a noise at her fish soup. prattle. Wouldn’t dream of it. The answer to her question is of course Ryan. amazing.