The delapidated chapel, with its side building, is, of course, the star of the show. An elegant hollow, its woody grandeur echoing with the ghosts of long-dead Calvinist Methodists, it’s perfect. And so too are moon-faced Brymer Jones and pink-haired Hogarth, thoughtful extroverts who laugh and cry as if to order in a splendid array of bonkers outfits: his ’n’ hers dungarees, statement specs, leopard print, sockless brogues.
With shows like these it’s never clear if chicken or egg comes first: the desire to renovate a property, or the funding to make a series about it. Brymer Jones talked romantically about the “algorithm of life” which brought them to Gwynedd. He even suggested some knowledge of the Mabinogion, and quickly learnt to pronounce Pwllheli.
North Wales is to be a lush supporting character. In the first episode, background colour came with a scenic tour of Portmeirion, and voxpops with town-dwellers who could remember getting baptised or married in the chapel. Unlike the chapel’s fungal and faecal whiffs, this show has a sweet aroma.