Where to watch: Available on Amazon Prime Video (via the "Top Gear" channel) or BBC iPlayer (legacy rights permitting).
The trio begins in the relatively safe Kurdish region of Iraq. The initial problem is mechanical: Hammond’s BMW sounds like a bag of spanners. The real problem is existential: Clarkson realises his Barchetta’s roof is designed for Italian rain, not Mesopotamian sun. They drive through checkpoints manned by bemused Peshmerga fighters who have never seen three middle-aged British men argue about rear-wheel drive while sweating through their shirts.
The special’s signature terror arrives at the border of Syria. After being followed by security forces, they are escorted to a "holding compound"—essentially a dusty prison yard. Here, the BBC’s insurance premiums skyrocket as the team is detained by Syrian intelligence. The tension is palpable, not because of the guns, but because Clarkson is forced to be quiet. Their escape from Syria into Jordan involves a "fake" border crossing that feels disturbingly real.
Unlike the Burma Special or the Bolivia Special , this episode features a surprisingly poignant ending. As they finally roll into Bethlehem (parking under the massive Israeli separation wall), they present their "gifts" to a local orphanage. Jeremy gives a teddy bear, Hammond gives a football, and May gives a science kit. It is oddly touching.
In a moment of pure, uncut Top Gear , the trio stops at the Dead Sea. It is here that Richard Hammond, in a stroke of horrific genius, produces the "Mankini" (a borat-style lime-green thong). The image of Hammond floating in the saltiest water on Earth, dressed like a peeled lime, while Clarkson and May weep with laughter, is the comedic peak of the entire Clarkson era.
As they approach the Jordanian border with Israel (the West Bank), the sat-nav routes them through a literal minefield. Leftover warning signs in Arabic and faded red triangles mark the edges. They resort to throwing rocks to "test" the path. James May’s Mazda—the reliable steed—is nearly blown up. They survive by pure, stupid luck. The Verdict The Middle East Special works because it balances on a knife-edge. One side is a geopolitical commentary about a region torn apart by conflict; the other is a farce about three men trying to fix a Fiat’s electrics with a stick.