He became the oldest King of the Jungle when he won I'm A Celebrity in 2018 aged 71.

And now, in an exclusive interview with the Daily Mail, Harry Redknapp has said whinging celebrities in the Jungle need to 'simply get on with it, you're getting paid well so embrace it.'

Now 78 years old, the West Ham manager has been watching the current series from the comfort of his home in Dorset and predicts that Angry Ginge will take the crown.

The former football manager has no time for stars who kick up a fuss in the Jungle and said: 'It's not great in the jungle, but the people running the show aren't going to give you food that will kill you.

'You will not be asked to do anything that will actually endanger your life. I would tell anyone out there to simply get on with it. You're getting paid well, so embrace it.'

Redknapp's fellow campmates included Emily Atack, Anne Hegarty, John Barrowman and Sair Khan, but he beat them all when he captured the nation with his no-nonsense approach.

Commenting on the current series, he said: 'I'd have liked to see Martin Kemp win it. I like some of his songs too. That one about being indestructible is very good.

'But I think this character, Angry Ginge, could win it. I know that he has a lot of followers, whatever that means. I haven't a clue what he does for a living, but I believe he is very popular.'

While stuck in the outback for three weeks, he won over the country with his efforts at learning to rap, refusal to eat wallaby and wistful recollections of his wife Sandra's jam roly-poly while stuck in the outback.

The sporting legend said spending three weeks sleeping in the Jungle and living on rice and beans was 'nothing' compared to his childhood, during which he spent in Kent with his nan harvesting hop flowers.

The East Londoner recalled long summers out in the fields and said: his was just after the war, all these old ladies had lived through it. I first went when I was six months old. Mum came the first year or so but then she stayed behind to work as did my dad, in the docks. It was my nan and me.

'We lived in huts- four or so in a row. They were made of asbestos and there was nothing inside except for the heavy, wooden base of a bed. No mattresses.

'No electricity, gas or running water. Your first job on arrival was to clear out the birds' nests from the roof and those of the mice and rats who had spent all winter in the huts sheltering from the cold.

'The toilets were scattered around the fields. Just like in the jungle. They didn't flush either. They didn't get flushed for the whole time we were there. You cooked on a Primus stove with paraffin for fuel.

'You were given big bags of wooden strips - we called them faggots. They were for lighting fires.

'At six in the morning we would all march off together to the fields. I guess around 20 of us. Nan would make us a sandwich to eat during a break.

'You packed the hops into big bins and they were called 'bushels'. You were paid about a shilling a bushel. 'Measurers' would come round and check your work. Some were harsh and you had to fill the bin right to the brim for your shilling.

'There was one bloke with an eye missing and he was ruthless. Nan hated him. She called him 'mutton eye' and he was so strict. She would ask me if he was our measurer that day because it meant harder work for the money.

'At half five or six we would tramp back to our field, sometimes caked in mud where it had been raining all day. There were no showers. Just a freezing cold tap. Deodorant? You're kidding.

'We were given straw and took our own sacks as mattresses. We would stuff the straw in them and into pillow cases. It meant straw up your bum all night, or poking in your earholes. You could also hear the mice scurrying around and squeaking in your hut.

'Food was cooked on an open fire. A potato or an apple. The women would sing and we did that every day and night for around five weeks.'

Mechanical harvesters have replaced armies of working class families trading bombsite moonscapes for a glimpse of countryside and some fresh air, while earning extra pennies in tough times.