JOHN NETTLES

Take vicars; there are often village vicars in 'Midsomer Murders', but the village vicar in England was killed off long ago.

Actors have become much more savvy about the nature of television celebrity these days. We were not. The kind of celebrity culture that exists now didn't exist in the 1980s.

Never underestimate the effect you can have on certain sections of the audience, though. You should see some of the letters I get.

I'm flattered to be called a sex symbol and, on occasion - if I've had a nice bottle of Beaujolais - I can imagine myself really being one.

I've done so much drama on television that it's very hard to sit down and watch other actors work. I find my interest is more in the real world.

The whole of Cornwall has become antiseptic. When I was growing up in St. Austell, the county was wonderfully rough and workish. These days it is polite and Disney-fied.

People who get OBEs are people like firefighters and lifesavers - these are real-life heroes.

You need someone to ground you because if you start believing that your public persona is your only and real persona, then you're looking at a very long and lonely old age.

Midsomer' is a throwback to the old detective tradition, in which everything happens in the head of one man. Everything depends on his intuition and experience.

Age is full of regrets and most of them are about treating people unkindly.

I don't know why 'Midsomer Murders' is so popular; I've asked this many times and I've asked the Germans particularly because I've become very fond of them, to be honest. And they say it's the irony, the sense of humour and so on.

It's so good to get up in the morning and see a donkey - they're just unbelievably beautiful and funny. My donkey Hector laughs when I walk towards him; he knows mortality when he sees it.

You do get your stalkers and obsessives though, and it's a huge problem sometimes. When I lived in Jersey, I used to have a middle-aged lady who, when I'd wake in the middle of the night, I'd see her van parked outside.

I get a lot of letters from French lady admirers - and gentlemen. 'Midsomer' is a huge hit in France, and it's all down to the guy dubbing me into French - a middle-aged balding fellow.

Midsomer Murders' is more about character and atmosphere. It portrays a kind of idealised rural England, just as the French like to imagine it.

I remember Tom Baker once said to me many years ago: never go back, particularly with TV shows. This is because the track record for characters returning to series they've left is not very good.

I have enormously fond memories of working on 'Bergerac.'

But, in real life, I'm not a sex symbol. I'm popular with female viewers, but television is fantasy land. People watching don't see the real person; they see a romanticised image.

I have just written a book on the occupation of the Channel Islands, which is being published in Germany. Pursuing the Second World War is my passion because it's the most extraordinary period in history.

I'll have been doing 'Midsomer Murders' for 14 years by the time 'Barnaby' leaves. I've formed familial ties with the people involved in the show and they will be hard to break.

We were on a fairway shooting a scene in 'The Dogleg Murders' when I was asked by the cameraman if it was safe to film from where he was standing. I said, 'Yes, it'll be fine.' I then managed to slice the ball 90 degrees into the camera.

I mean, dear old 'Bergerac', or dear young 'Bergerac' as he was then, he had a gammy leg, he was going through a nasty divorce with his wife, he was a recovering alcoholic, it's a wonder he can get up in the morning let alone solve any crimes. And he also had to drive that ridiculous car.

I have a legion of friends and the best ones are my immediate family, which is very cliched but true.

Guitar is the most expressive instrument in the world. I don't play much any more. Maybe a bit in private.

I've not really had a bad Christmas. Apart from serious things, like when my father died. He rather spoiled the party and I've never forgiven him for falling off the twig on Christmas Day.