Sid Boggle and Bernie Lugg are desperate to have their way with Joan Sims and Dilys Laye, so they take them to a nudist documentary film (just the first of many loud dongs on the socio-historical value-o-meter). Despite the girls' patent disgust, they decide the ideal plan will be to take them to a nudist camp on holiday. At a camping shop where Valerie Leon is showing Charles Hawtrey how to stick the pole up they get directions to what they think is the camp in the film, but what they find is a shabby and distinctly non-nudist camp site run by Peter Butterworth ("my usual fee is a pound"), and where a stripy-blazered headmaster Kenneth Williams is also staying with a coachload of burgeoningly post-pubescent schoolgirls, led by Barbara Windsor, whose subsequent outdoor aerobic mishap is now the stuff of British comedy legend. They all try and fail to gain intimate knowledge of each other, until the idyll is shattered by an unwelcome intrusion of modernity: a party of grubby flower-children staging a noisy rave in an adjoining field. Sid, Bernie and Julian Holloway, dressed magnificently as hippies, save the day by tying the real hippies to each other with string and having them towed away, still grooving, by a cart.
Take that, 1969! In the future, 1969 will belong to us! And of course they were right. This is the one to show to your kids, the one where the series really settles down to looking like the feature-film spin-offs of nonexistent ITV sitcoms, which is to say: where it achieves perfection. It’s just an endless joy, full of good jokes and performances and iconic moments, and it looks so beautiful, and Eric Rogers’s score is so beautiful, and watching it is like being able to take a childhood holiday all over again.