'These questions are my idea of hell! None of them I want to answer. I prefer waffling!’ Clive Anderson is shifting around in his seat in a rooftop bar near Broadcasting House.
Then he takes a swig from the glass in front of him and grimaces, ‘Urgh! Fizzy water from a warm glass! That’s a taste to be acquired.’ Luckily, he’s laughing.
And while his words might suggest curmudgeonly agitation, the TV star is actually such witty, warm and self-deprecating company, it’s impossible not to be charmed.
Dressed in a checked shirt and navy trousers, ‘plucked from my snappy wardrobe of clothes,’ Clive has aged surprisingly little since his TV heyday in the 1990s.
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