I found myself taking a huge dislike to James Martin last night as I watched his exploits on the BBC programme The Real Italian Job: James Martin’s Mille Miglia. I’d previously seen him as the quite likeable host of Saturday Kitchen, but I thought he came across as a bit of a w&nker as he prepared to embark upon the classic Italian rally in a beautiful 1948 Maserati A6GCS which he bought for around £650,000 of his own money (apparently more than he’d spent on his house). Another £300,000 or so went into an engine rebuild before the car was ready for the off and then, having picked out a wardrobe featuring three pairs of driving shoes, he and his attractive blonde co-driver, Sarah Bennett-Baggs, set off from Brescia as his model girlfriend, cum official photographer, looked on.

So of course, I almost wet myself when the old Maser’s engine gave up before he’d even made it to the first stop at Ferrara, but then it dawned on me that perhaps James Martin wasn’t a t*sser at all. He was actually just a guy having a go at ‘living the dream’. I believe he’s pretty much a self-made man, so he’s earned the money that he spent on the classic Maserati - and then some. He can return home to his fantasy garage to lick his wounds (after he’s beaten the cr&p out of the guy who carried out the engine rebuild) and console himself in the arms of his gorgeous girlfriend and behind the wheel of his more modern and more reliable Maserati GranTurismo.

So as the programme drew to a close, I had to admit that I must have been overcome by the green-eyed monster. Well done James, for giving it a go. I’d love to have a crack at the Mille Miglia myself someday, but if I never get the opportunity, I’ll happily ride along with you vicariously, if you’ll give it another try.