Originally, a Grand Tour was a 17th- to 19th-century pursuit in which, say, three chums would find themselves at a loose end for whatever reason and would agree to travel together to foreign lands for the purposes of cultural and spiritual enrichment, and also to find out if the Aston Martin DB11 was any good. Before departing one of the friends might say, ‘Look, this isn’t completely convenient for me. I’m supposed to be making a Christmas special about 1970s toys,’ and the other two would reply, ‘Oh for God’s sake, James. How long does that take? Get a bloody move on,’ and then the two idle friends would wait for a bit, and then for a bit longer while their third friend spent a week packing his clothes very neatly into a leather suitcase, and then they would away on their travels.
‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU’RE OFF TO MAKE A PROGRAMME ABOUT PUTTING THINGS BACK TOGETHER??’
Their destinations might be many and varied, often inspired by a map on the wall of their new office in the Chiswick area of London, which they would look at until they found somewhere that sounded interesting, perhaps having checked what was to be found there using an information source such as The Encyclopaedia Wikipedia. Having established that somewhere was interesting, the chums would set off and before you knew it they would find themselves in Italy, where they would attend displays of local art and sculpture and visit the opera, apart from one of the friends who would perhaps behave like the kind of total moron who thinks Cosìfan tutte is ice cream.
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Perhaps soon after, the chums would find themselves in the north of France, which is very underrated actually, especially if you like drizzle, and here one of the friends might devote his time to visiting a local adult souvenirs emporium, where he would purchase a very rude item for the purposes of making an unhelpful directional aid for one of his colleagues while ignoring the gentleman behind the counter who was saying the French for, ‘Ah, hello, sir. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you in here.’
After this, the friends’ Grand Tour adventure of learning and enrichment and dicking about might take them to Morocco, where the noisiest of the friends would not shut up about terrible Italian things, or they might move on to the exotic climes of the Caribbean to do something that didn’t seem especially relevant, or they might even find themselves in Jordan, where they would challenge themselves and would say to themselves only a long time afterwards, ‘Oh heavens, this hasn’t gone down very well at home.’
The purpose of the Grand Tour was not only to educate and inform, it was also to generate entertainment, ideally about 12 to 13 hours of it. Having achieved this in a single year, the friends might then agree to do it again the following year but in different places, and perhaps the slow, slightly boring one would say, ‘I’d like to be the fast one who shouts for a change,’ and his friends would say, ‘Shhh, James. Don’t spoil it.’
