Last May I mentioned that when LL and I stayed at the Airport Marriott Hotel in Inverness, there were security guards on each floor. We found out that they were there because a reality TV show was being filmed locally and it was the guards’ job to make sure the contestants had no contact with one another. I remember I also saw a row of black Hummer-like SUVs along the highway near there that same week, but I didn’t connect them with the Prisoners of Marriott at the time.
I rarely watch reality shows. The ones I do watch are things like The Great British /Canadian /New Zealand Bake Off, The Great British Sewing Bee, The Great British Menu (you get the drift). I prefer not to even think about the ones where roses are handed around to hunky men, or people have bees poured on them, or are required to eat unspeakable things. Don’t get me wrong, there is no sense of superiority about my avoiding reality shows: my TV watching roster is hardly highbrow and we all have our guilty pleasures. It’s just that those backstabbing, survivalist, look-at-me shows are just not to my taste.
Last week I saw a promo for a show set in the Highlands, hosted by a British presenter whom I really like, Claudia Winkleman. Like me, she’s not good with the survivalist show genre, but she was intrigued enough by this one to become the host. It was as she was describing it I made the connection: the castle that all the events take place is about a half-hour from the Marriott – it must have been the contestants from this new show in the rooms down the hall, and being transported back and forth in the blacked-out SUVs.
So, I’ve started watching The Traitor. And OMG, I’m hooked (seriously cannot believe I’m saying this). I can see why these shows become water-cooler fodder – I keep wishing I knew someone who was also watching it so we could discuss it. The competitions are all palatable things like a treasure hunt, or a canoe race on a loch, which don’t gross me out; and then the plotting and scheming and nutty reasoning afterwards is hilarious. And, the castle, Ardross Castle, is stunningly beautiful – I drive within five miles of it every time I head south and back.
Winter nights are long in Orkney, and this house is cold. I need something to do in the evenings, and it seems reality TV is a new option (or at least this one show is – I still refuse to watch the gross food competitions). But maybe I’d better go buy a jigsaw puzzle as well – this can’t consume my life.