Sinister place. That one end really does look like serpent’s head.

The premise of this Treasure Quest is intriguing. Four guys with more greed than brains think they can find $300 million in gold stashed by 16th century Jesuits on the most uninhabitable dot of land on earth. I mean, the place is totally dominated by one of the most venomous species of snakes on earth.

They’re everywhere. On the ground, in the trees, in the caves, every-effing-where.

It’s pretty good for a few episodes. They find some messages written by the Jesuits on stones. They have close calls with snakes. Did I mention that the snakes are every-effing-where? They are.

You can’t even go to the bathroom without checking your feet. I mean your own bathroom. It’s that scary.

So far so good. But there’s a point in reality shows, even on the Discovery Channel, when you start to grow suspicious. Sometime in episode four, after snakes and snakes and still more snakes, when our dimwit heroes realize they are not alone. This is right on the verge, mind you, of exploring a very promising cave in which the Jesuits may have done something incredibly important.

But there are sounds of breaking twigs and stuff, so they go running in pursuit. Who is on the island with them? Rival treasure hunters. Snake poachers? Everything’s up in the air. Wait for the next episode, where the ugly truth will be revealed.

The truth is far worse than the cliffhanger hinted at. The interlopers on Snake Island are even more annoying than the constant snakes.

Hammond, Clarkson, and May. Twiddlers three.

The Top Gear producers had air dropped them on the island with a Rover SUV to prove once and for all the superiority of Brit auto technology. But they were in a bad mood. Because the Rover was wrecked. The prissy Brits were therefore stranded and, well, peeved.

The snakes got it.

Maybe not going to watch much more of Snake Island. You?