Over six series, Mortimer & Whitehouse: Gone Fishing has quietly evolved into one of British television’s most tender, contemplative joys — a gentle refuge from the noise of modern life. What began as two old friends recovering from heart surgery with a bit of fishing has become something deeper: a celebration of companionship, vulnerability and the healing power of a riverbank.
The format remains blissfully simple. Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse bundle themselves — along with assorted waders, anxieties and the endlessly adored terrier, Ted — into a car and set off towards the UK’s most scenic waters. There, between casts and cups of tea, they talk. About mortality. About idiocy. About football, fear, ageing, memories and the strange delight of still being alive. It’s a fishing show in the same way that Paddington is a film about a bear: technically true, but missing the point entirely.
❄️ A Christmas Tradition of Warmth, Wit and Wintry Quiet
The series’ Christmas specials have become minor seasonal events in their own right. Each one blends the show’s usual gentle eccentricity with a touch of festive melancholy — the kind that pairs perfectly with frosty mornings, slow cooking and the comfort of old friends laughing at their own frailties.
This year’s outing may be the finest yet.
Bob and Paul head south-west to the rivers of Devon and Cornwall, a region whose winter landscapes give the episode a soft, painterly beauty. Along the way they fold in new adventures: a nostalgic steam-train journey, blustery sea fishing from a small boat, and a heartfelt village-hall finale complete with local musicians, harbour lights and a sense of community so genuine it almost feels old-fashioned.
It is, in the best sense, a Christmas card brought to life.
🐶 Ted Creates Chaos; Friendship Creates Calm
Of course, no special would be complete without Ted wreaking gentle havoc — bounding through scenes, disrupting earnest conversations and reminding the nation that dogs may in fact be the key to emotional wellbeing.
But beneath the banter and canine chaos lies the show’s true gift: two men who are not afraid to be sincere. Their shared history of heart problems gives a vulnerable undercurrent to even their funnier moments. Jokes fade into reflections; reflections soften into laughter. It is television that trusts its viewers to appreciate quietness — and to feel seen within it.
✨ Why This May Be Their Best Episode Yet
The episode succeeds not because it is festive, or scenic, or funny — though it is all three — but because it captures something increasingly rare: the beauty of simple companionship.
No gimmicks.
No contrived drama.
Just two friends, a dog, and the quiet understanding that life is fleeting but still full of wonder.
For longtime fans, it feels like a culmination of everything the series does best. For newcomers, it is the perfect introduction to its gentle joys.
🎁 A Christmas Special Filled With Laughter, Wistfulness — and Hope
As the credits roll over candle-lit waters and winter landscapes, Gone Fishing offers what may be the greatest gift television can give: a moment to breathe. A reminder that the small things — tea, rivers, jokes with an old friend — might actually be the big things.
This year’s Christmas special doesn’t just entertain.
It soothes.
It reassures.
It leaves you looking toward the year ahead with something like hope.
A rare pleasure, indeed.
