Only Fools And Horses Hull And Back

Right, picture the scene: it’s 1985, you’re parked on the sofa with a tin of biscuits, and the theme tune to Only Fools and Horses kicks in. You know what’s coming next—Del Boy falling through a bar, or a flatulent chandelier. But then, boom, the film-length special arrives. Forget Nelson’s Column; this is the greatest journey ever taken by a three-wheeled van. I’m talking, of course, about “Only Fools and Horses: To Hull and Back.”

Let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t just an episode. This is a cinematic masterpiece disguised as a sitcom, complete with a plot so tight you could smuggle a Rolex in it. And they do smuggle a Rolex. Or, well, a whole suitcase full of them. The boys—Del, Rodney, and Grandad—are hired by a slippery Dutchman to pick up stolen diamonds from a dodgy captain. It’s like Mission: Impossible, but with more flat caps and fewer exploding chewing gum.

The Plot (Spoiler: It’s Bonkers)

The plan is simple: drive a three-wheeled Reliant Regal to the Netherlands, swap a bag of cash for a bag of diamonds, and drive back. Simple, right? Only if you ignore the fact that Grandad gets sea-sick from a puddle, Del’s fake accent sounds like a drunk German, and Rodney nearly gets them all killed on a ferry. The real genius is how every single detail becomes a running gag that pays off later.

For example, the boys have to dress as women to avoid a cop. Yep, Del Boy in a wig and floral dress is a sight that should be in the Louvre. And Grandad, bless him, just looks like a very confused granny from Peckham. The scene where they totter through a Dutch market is comedy gold—pure, unscripted panic that somehow feels more real than any documentary about smuggling.

The Surprising Fact That’ll Make You Sound Clever at Pubs

Here’s the kicker: that whole diamond-smuggling plot is based on a real event. Seriously. Writer John Sullivan adapted it from a true story about a gang of London criminals who actually tried to smuggle gems through the Port of Hull. The only difference is the real blokes used a proper car, not a Reliant Robin. So, when Del says, “This time next year, we’ll be millionaires,” he’s quoting real-life diamond thieves. Classy.

But the show’s biggest surprise? The budget was tiny. Most of the “Amsterdam” scenes were filmed in a street in London that had a fake canal and a windmill painted on a canvas. The cast spent days laughing so hard they had to stop filming, especially when Nicholas Lyndhurst (Rodney) kept falling over in his high heels. You can actually see the crew shaking the camera because they’re giggling.

Why It’s Still the Best Special

Let’s be honest: most Christmas specials are rubbish. They’re saccharine, lazy, and festooned with baubles that remind you of family arguments. But “To Hull and Back” works because it’s a proper adventure. There’s tension (the cop is this close to nicking them), heart (Grandad’s speech about missing his wife is gut-wrenching), and a final twist that’s genuinely shocking. When the diamonds turn out to be fake? Chef’s kiss.

And can we talk about the title? “To Hull and Back.” It’s a joke that becomes a lie: they don’t go to Hull; they go to Amsterdam. The title is a deliberate misdirection, like putting a “Free Biscuits” sign on an empty tin. It’s the sort of cheeky genius that only John Sullivan could pull off. Plus, it gives you an excuse to shout, “Hull! We’re going to Hull!” in a dodgy Cockney accent for days afterward.

The Legacy of the Three-Wheeled Van

Let’s not ignore the star of the show: the Reliant Regal. That tiny, upturned bathtub on wheels is the true hero of the story. It struggles up hills, gets stuck in mud, and somehow survives a ferry crossing. The car is so iconic that a replica now sits in the National Motor Museum. And yes, someone actually drove a real one from London to Amsterdam in 2005 to recreate the trip. They got lost near Sheffield.

Fun fact: the van’s number plate, XRJ 700T, is one of the most famous in British TV history. If you ever see it in a car park, you’re legally obliged to shout, “Lovely jubbly!” If you don’t, you lose your British citizenship. It’s the law. I checked.

The Final Verdict: Still Lovely Jubbly

So, why watch “To Hull and Back” in 2024? Because it’s time-resistant comedy. The jokes aren’t about eighties pop culture; they’re about being a bloke who’s slightly out of his depth, wearing a dress, and trying not to get arrested. It’s universal. Plus, David Jason’s performance as Del Boy is so good you forget he’s acting. You honestly believe he’d try to barter with a Dutch cop for a fake Rolex.

If you’ve never seen it, stop reading and go watch it right now. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry (at Grandad’s speech), and you’ll never look at a Reliant Robin the same way again. And if you have seen it? Well, you already know why it’s the finest hour of British television not involving Shakespeare or Doctor Who. Just remember: next time you’re in a dodgy situation, ask yourself, “What would Del Boy do?” Then probably do the opposite. But with a smile.

Right, I’m off to put a “Free Biscuits” sign on my car. Lovely jubbly.