Paul Little: Another wreath, another yawn

For four days, Charles and Camilla have been shuffling around the country,

For four days, an elderly British couple have been shuffling around the country, beaming inanely and muttering platitudes into the ears of anyone who will stand still long enough to listen.

With his wife, Camilla, Prince Charles has been shipped out here to have his bum kissed for seven days because he apparently doesn't get enough of that at home.

The itinerary that has been foisted on the Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall reads like the school trip from hell.

It is a packed programme of dull but worthy activities that would be enough to turn anyone into a republican. Especially someone on his ninth visit here.

Although it is probably the first time his missus will have encountered the inexplicable phenomenon that is Nelson's World of Wearable Arts museum - the contemporary equivalent of a sheep-shearing demonstration - there is really nothing new here.

Who plans these things? The little-known Ministry of Torture? Or was the tour arranged by a subversive who hoped, by making it so excruciatingly banal, to point out the irrelevance of the monarchy?

Poor Charles. Lay another wreath, unveil another plaque, visit another school, endure another reception at Government House with lame jokes about the All Blacks.

Still, at least his wife was there for that. Oh, no she wasn't. She had a cough and jet lag and bailed.

Not that we needed to worry about going to a lot of trouble to entertain them.

According to their own website "highlights of the Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall's tour will include arriving by train into historic Dunedin station".

So they're obviously easily pleased.

Public reaction has varied, ranging from apathetic to catatonic. That's where there has been any reaction at all.

Crowds have been conspicuous by their low numbers, most people apparently deciding it's best not to look because you'll only encourage them. The turnout has generally been described as "small but hardy" and hardy is a useful word if you don't have room for "deranged".

Still, there are traces of the old fawning royal tour coverage to be found if you look hard enough. Consider this gem: "The Duchess wore a cream-coloured coat and dress by British designer Anna Valentine and a Philip Treacy hat."

Given the prince is in the existentially challenging position of being qualified for a job that he will be able to do only when his mother dies, some thought should be given to making his own time on Earth more productive.

Could someone not have arranged, for instance, for Charles and Camilla to meet other beneficiaries to share tips on how to get by on state handouts? Or how to avoid the pitfalls that come with long-term unemployment, such as lapsing into petty crime or substance abuse?

Meanwhile, we endure a bizarre state of affairs, which means that because a number of this country's inhabitants had ancestors who migrated from Great Britain a century or so ago - a number that's getting smaller and smaller with every year - we act as though there is some spiritual connection with that damp, dark land.

And then there's the glamour - the mysterious, almost religious aura that surrounds royalty, a legacy of the ancient belief that monarchs were direct descendants of the gods.

Unfortunately, in this case the semi-divine being has a charisma level that makes Don Brash look like Elvis Presley.

Here's a suggestion for those planning future royal tours: don't.

Let's put them and us out of our respective misery and let them stay home.

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