Anyone of a certain age will remember Dr David Bellamy, the lisping, bearded Botanic Man of the telly. He was always popping up here, being photographed peering through bushes, waving his arms, exclaiming about our fauna.
He looks exactly the same: as though he's been happily dragged through a bush backwards. He was very famous, then he seemed to pretty much vanish, so when he opens the door to his hotel room, it's a bit like being greeted by a genial dinosaur. He probably won't mind that description.
He once told a story about a radio station phoning to say they'd seen a picture of him and that they'd thought he was dead. When I remind him of this (it's that he told this story that interests me), he says, "no, no, that was a lady on a train ... She said, 'are you David Bellamy?' I said, 'I am'. And she said, 'I thought you were dead'."
Is that a sad story? "What? Not being on television?"