FOR my state sanctioned hour of exercise the other day I took a power walk down memory lane. I did not go via Spooks Way, Waterloo Road, Line of Duty Avenue or any of those other old series the broadcasters are shovelling on catch-up. My destination was a new documentary, Inside Waitrose: Britain’s Poshest Supermarket (Channel 5, Tuesday).

Ooh, I cooed, look at all those folk walking freely in and out the door. Check out how closely they are standing together at the checkout. The way they are going wild in the aisles, stopping to chat with friends and neighbours like it was no biggie. I nudged the dog with my elbow and chuckled, “Ah, those were the days, eh girl?” She did not answer. We’re only a week and a bit into the lockdown; give it time.

The documentary covered how the chain started, the link up with John Lewis, and so on. It was dull stuff in comparison with the scenes of ordinary shoppers doing routine tasks. One shopper in particular looked awfully familiar. Little old lady, hat, handbag, peering into the frozen vegetables section as if debating whether to give those new fangled steam packets a try or stick with the loose mixed veg? Yes, it was the Queen.

Mrs Windsor featured a lot in the programme, courtesy of the royal warrant bestowed on the store. “You don’t get more posh than have the Queen shop there,” said one talking head (Angela Clutton, above) as if the monarch actually rocked up every Tuesday with her tartan trolley.

There were other royal connections, including Waitrose buying Prince Charles’s Duchy Originals brand (every little helps as they say elsewhere). I would have liked more on this, but instead we trotted through the same old Waitrose talking points: was it correct that people with loadsamoney shopped there (yes); was it correct that being near a Waitrose boosted property prices (yes); was it correct they sold fancy stuff the rest of us have never heard of (yes, some Hainanese paste on your rice, dear?). Basically, it was one big advert for the store.

It was bang up to date, though, with mention at the end of the virus crisis when Waitrose, like every other supermarket, was plagued by panic buying locusts who stripped the shelves of bread, pasta and loo roll. Wonder if the Queen’s all right for toilet paper. I shan’t rest until I know.

We could send Sergeant Georgie Lane, the heroine at the heart of Our Girl (Tuesday, BBC1), on a crack mission to find out. Or maybe not. Trouble follows our Georgie (Michelle Keegan) wherever she goes.

Tony Grounds’ drama about a female medic in the British Army has taken some gentle stick for Georgie’s tendency to go into battle wearing full warpaint, lip gloss, mascara and all.

I can just about buy that – what is a woman but a supreme multi-tasker. What I can’t quite sign up for is the way she keeps coming up with daft/insane ideas that the Army pooh-poohs before finally giving in. In this episode, the second of six, she accompanied a doctor into an Afghan village to dispense polio vaccinations. Her Army colleagues had to observe from a distance, because the doc said they were putting people off. Georgie agreed and lobbied the top brass relentlessly to fly solo. What do you know, an ambush occurred.

Now in its fifth series, Our Girl keeps coming back for more because it has struck on a winning formula of being 95% soap opera, including will they-won’t they romances, and five per cent action thriller. Guns and roses, if you like.

The Steph Show (Channel 4, daily) was a prime example of the virus viewing that has begun to percolate through the schedules.

Filmed from the home of host Steph McGovern, it was a rag bag of interviews, advice, and funny things culled from social media. Think of it as a sort of Workers’ Playtime for the internet age.

Any other time, and with any other host, it would be terrible television. But McGovern, a working class Clare Balding, is a likeable sort, and the gonzo, making it up as we go along, feel of the show is entirely in harmony with these bizarre times.

More tonic was to be found in One Night in the Museum (BBC Scotland, Wednesday), which followed a gaggle of youngsters from Inverurie as they toured The National Museum of Scotland on their own (save for an accompanying camera crew). Watching the results were some of the museum’s curators, keen to see if their displays worked, and of course the audience at home.

The kids did indeed say the funniest things. Ten-year-old Nicole, for instance, was hoping she would see unicorns in the museum, while her chum Rebecca decided that life was altogether better and safer today because there was no chance of a T-Rex “turning up at your door”. Can’t argue with that, Rebecca. Now, if you lived in Glasgow...