Horticulture is all very well,
housework is never all very well, but no doubt it is good for one’s character (just some cushion plumping still to be done),
but they interfere with the important things in life, namely watching someone colour in the floor of the Pacific stripe by stripe. I feel like Slartibartfast.
Then there is the crucial business of blue water going by for an hour, or possibly two, occasionally diversified by some passing gelatinous improbability, until we arrive at the main event: the ocean floor, a varying number of kilometres but always a Very Long Way Down.
Here one can inspect more gelatinous creatures, the occasional fish, and a variety of coral. Unfortunately, being live from the other side of the world, they usually reach bottom just at the time all British people should be in bed. What technical genius, though, not only to send ROVs to that depth, but to live stream HD video to all and sundry, along with baffled commentary from assorted specialists. It’s just as much fun as reindeer – though I do occasionally wish the scientists were speaking Norwegian.
For those who live in another hemisphere, or don’t mind propping up their eyelids with matchsticks: