Indeed, luck.
I don't know about this Bear Grylls. There's just something about him: the fact that he's a well-spoken, up his own **** Etonian; he thinks he's 'mad' for doing all this 'crazy' stuff; the fact that you know he's got a good deal on a Travel Lodge for every shoot; the fact that he looks as if his whole crazy persona would crumble and he'd end up crying if he was slapped; that he's obnoxious; that he's arrogant; that he reminds me of David Cameron in a 'I'm cool kids, look at me' way; the fact that he has conversations similar to the following with his Eton chums - "Gosh, saw the latest episode Humprey [that's Bears real name - Ed.] - looks like you got yourself in a spot of bother there! Can't believe you drunk that Elephant jizz" - "Har! Sure did - you know, I'm not proud of it, but when you're out there, God, the instinct to survive just takes over y'know"; the fact that he touts all of his achievements non-stop throughout every episode - he's his own greatest fan... I shall stop there, but rest assured the list is comprehensive.
This debate is quite telling - on the one hand we have life's show-boaters who think they're mens men who look up to 'Bear's' 'can-do, will-do' (anything to make a name for myself) attitude, on the other we have the intelligent, appreciative of his craft, Ray Mears fans.
In short, Ray Mears would break bread with a native tribe whilst sharing the loin of Bear Grylls, entertain the tribe with a tune played on a flute crafted from his spine, and fashion a fetching coat out of his hide for the tribal chiefs wife.
Bruce Parry and Ray Mears are brothers, separated at birth. I am their birth mother.