Three male presenters, the usual stunts, the usual format: dull, dull, dull. Like the average punter taking on a used Nissan Almera diesel, I wasn’t hoping for much from series 27 of Top Gear . I was right.Watching Top Gear was always a bit like having to sit through someone else’s holiday home movies, and I am sorry to say that the adventures of the newish trio of Chris Harris, Freddie Flintoff and Paddy McGuiness in Ethiopia are, if anything, even more tedious than the countless times Jeremy Clarkson and the other two used to get old cars and drive them around exotic places and break their suspension.This time the team were given the “nostalgia test” – to find examples of the first cars, on a budget of £4,000. Paddy had a Ford Escort Mark 2, circa 1979; Chris a 1990 Mini Cooper; Flintoff did well to get himself a 1998 Porsche Boxster, albeit with slipping clutch and a convertible roof that didn’t work.From extras.The “first cars” idea is a novel enough premise, but it soon deteriorates into the same sort of road trip as all the other ones that Top Gear has ever done – Vietnam, Southern Africa, Bolivia, all that. This time it was across the Semien Mountains range and down into the Afar Triangle, the “buthpless of ’oomankhand” in the extreme accent of professional Boltonian Paddy. The usual aerial shots gave us a feel for the majestic scenery and the rich local cultures of Ethiopia, and all that. But somehow, with this trio, the “buthpless of ’oomankhand” is somehow rendered underwhelming.The saving grace is that the old-school Top Gear borderline casual racism is gone. Harris, Flintoff and McGuiness even manage to make a thoughtful reference to the famine of 1984 without lapsing into accidental Partridgespeak. A relief.The script, or spontaneous dialogue, or whatever it was, just isn’t worth eavesdropping on. I’ve heard sharper banter on Love Island . Even the attempts at gross vulgarity – which ordinarily I greatly enjoy – are just numbingly awful. In the extreme heat of the desert, the hottest place on earth, they were issued with some remarkably futile challenges, like driving backwards for a bit, or blindfolded across an airstrip. The unchallenging challenges told us precisely sod all about the cars, about the presenters, or about the ancient civilisation and vibrant nation they were surrounded by. They might as well have been in the New Forest.