​Yesterday, I spent three hours in a meeting, just one long meeting without a coffee break of any kind, and I had a truly unique experience. At no stage did I feel the slightest desire to gnaw off my own leg.

Now this might seem a statement packed with exaggeration and hyperbole but, in fact, it is absolutely true in every respect – except for the “truly unique” bit.

I have to admit there have been occasions when I’ve felt like gnawing off my own leg, but they don’t last long.

It’s a fact I don’t normally look forward to meetings, unless I’m feeling in need of a few minutes sleep during the day, although I do appreciate the need for them.

Like so many people, I get bored when the subject being discussed has nothing to do with me and the mind starts to wander.

During a bad meeting, the brain can take funny directions and it’s not unknown for me to start daydreaming wistfully about the attractions of polishing brass, or even speculate about chewing off one of my own limbs.

To be precise, I am not a fan of meetings that meander. (In deference to my current position as virger, I must point out I haven’t been to one of these in the last three years or so during a meeting. Sermons, however ...)

Anyway, back in my youth when I was less adept at avoiding voluntary commitments than I am now, I used to chair various bodies and it was always a firm policy of mine to finish off formal gatherings as quickly as possible (having dealt with all necessary business on the agenda, of course).

My finest achievement was one Annual General Meeting of a housing association where the whole caboodle: Financial matters, formal affairs, chairman’s report (mine of course – a model of wit and brevity though I say so myself) and elections were resolved within 22 minutes.

Everyone was happy, I was widely congratulated and the officers and many of the attendees then adjourned to the pub up the road for the rest of the evening.

I am ashamed to admit that my own discipline and self-control has declined over the years – I sometimes find myself making irrelevant contributions that delay the process and, of course, annoy everyone else.

When I catch myself doing this, I can feel the young me cursing and rolling my eyes at me. Probably making a rude gesture as well but I can’t be sure, my eyes aren’t what they used to be – probably through being rolled so much over the years. Hey ho.

Anyway, back to yesterday.

This was a big round-the-table meeting to discuss the forthcoming arrival of the BBC Antiques Roadshow to Beverley Minster – and on my day off as well.

There were 16 of us around the table representing, in no particular order, the Minster (vicar, virgers, caterers, welcomers and so forth), local police and the Highways Agency plus involved individuals from the broadcaster itself – a recipe for disaster you would have thought.

However, I don’t believe anyone could say there was three minutes of waffle in total during the whole three hours.

Everyone had come prepared and we were all of one mind – how to make the visit of the Antiques Roadshow to Beverley Minster a success for the Minster, the BBC and, most importantly, the several thousand people expected on the day of Friday, May 14.

We covered all aspects: Signage, traffic flow, toilets, security, catering, cabling and camera angles, plus where to put the seats for people to rest on while they queue. First aid, publicity, where to park the vans, the timetable for set up and dismantling and so forth were all part of the mixture, too.

Frankly I’m not sure it wouldn’t be easier to rebuild the whole of the Minster nave as a studio set and bus the would-be audience in, but somehow it just wouldn’t be the same.

The vicar then assured everyone we would have good weather on the day and we broke up in a spirit of great optimism and bonhomie.

After the meeting I stayed on to chat with some of the team and it was very interesting to hear their comments.

One said this visit to the Minster, their third, had reminded him of just how welcoming the building itself was, and I agreed.

It’s not just the people here – although, of course, we’re all maaaaarvellous, daaarling – but also the very stones and the way they’ve been put together.

There was full agreement Beverley Minster is an extraordinary construct that, in some sublime and subtle way, influences for the better the way we feel.

It genuinely is an uplifting experience in stone and it’s nice to have this confirmed by experts, people who’ve travelled the UK and abroad to record their programme in some of the finest settings available.

Anyway, next week we repeat the process with the Songs of Praise team. Then we start counting down to week commencing May 10 when the cameras will finally start to roll for both programmes. I think it’s going to be a lot of fun.