Catherine Fulvio is one of the more watchable of Ireland’s endless supply of celebrity chefs, but she is ill-served by the supremely lightweight Catherine Fulvio’s St Patrick’s Way (RTÉ One, Thursday, 8pm). In kitchen parlance, it’s undercooked stodge – flavour-free, watered-down and crying out for more time in the oven.
St Patrick’s Way is a 132km walking route from Armagh to Downpatrick, the final resting place of St Patrick, that is marketed as a sort of soggy version of Spain’s Camino de Santiago. And marketing is the word – this two-part series is sponsored by the Northern Ireland tourist board and functions as a glorified advertorial. You have to wonder why Tourism Northern Ireland didn’t just buy ad time instead of participating in this blizzard of bland.
Fulvio visits local castles, participates in some toe-curling re-enactments of pre-Christian Ireland (audience participation mandatory) and generally gives the impression of having the best time ever. It’s like taking a helicopter to the top of Croagh Patrick and downing a bottle of champagne. You could try it – but to do so would be to entirely miss the point.
What the first episode doesn’t convey is any sense of struggle or sacrifice. People generally undertake these walks to reconnect with the natural world and learn something about themselves by pushing their bodies to the limits. But this Nationwide-esque documentary is far too lightweight to even broach the subject of personal sacrifice, let alone do it any sort of justice.
Netflix, Prime Video, Disney+, Apple TV+: 10 of the best new shows to watch in March
Bafta TV awards 2025: Lola Petticrew, Graham Norton, Nicola Coughlan among Irish nominated
Ricky Gervais live in Dublin review: shock humour wears thin as comedian shares message of defiance
Aimee Lou Wood on White Lotus: The novelty of a natural smile
Instead, Fulvio larks about the place. At one point, she announces she has “just walked 40 miles”. That’s quite a trek, but the series fails to convey any of the effort the presenter would surely have put in to cover that distance. Is she tired? Has the journey and the space for reflection it will have opened up caused her to think anew about life and the deeper meaning of things? Nevermind, let’s jabber with some organic farmers about their homemade ice cream instead.
Any insights into Northern Ireland are superficial, too. There’s a lot about St Patrick – but is Ireland’s patron saint viewed differently by the unionist and nationalist populations? How, for that matter, is St Patrick’s Day regarded in the Northern Ireland?
One tourist guide talks at length about “Armagh”, taking its name from Macha, the ancient Celtic goddess. Yet, there is no attempt to delve into the psychosphere of Northern Ireland and unpack how the various communities feel about their Irish heritage. Instead, this fizzy documentary by numbers has all the weight and insight of a shamrock shake or a fake leprechaun beard – and does a disservice to the talented Fulvio and anyone who has slogged through all 30 dreary minutes. Forget snakes. If Patrick ever returns to Ireland, he might start by banishing blisteringly beige advertorials instead.
