All language subtitles for Grand.Tours.Of.The.Scottish.Islands.S01E01.English

(peaceful music)

- The Scottish Coast.

An astonishingly intricate combination

of rocky headlands and beautiful beaches.

And, lying offshore, a
dazzling array of islands.

It's an obvious fact that
being surrounded by water

can make islands awkward places to get to.

Stormy seas and unpredictable weather

can often mean that island life

is intriguingly different.

I've always been drawn
to the alluring magic

of the Scottish Islands.

And, in this series, I'm
setting out to explore

their amazing riches.

Traveling from Foula in the far north

to the Bass Rock in the south.

Criss-crossing the
country from east to west.

But, there are nearly 300 islands

big enough to lay claim to the name

and that's not counting the myriad

of stacks and skerries that surround

the 6,000 convoluted miles of coast

that I'll be exploring
from the Atlantic Ocean

to the North Sea.

(royal music)

For the first of my island grand tours,

I'm heading to Foula and Fair Isle.

The remotest island
communities in Britain.

Thought so remote that the Romans

once described Foula as ultima thule,

the edge of the world.

The island of Foula is officially

the second remotest inhabited island

in the whole of the U.K. and to get there

travelers of old had to negotiate 16 miles

of wild water west of Shetland.

You can still take the boat, of course,

but thankfully, there are other quicker

and more convenient alternatives available

which is why I'm taking the plane.

The Shetland Islands Council operates

an air service four days a week to Foula.

The plane is a small one.

But then, the population
of Foula isn't big.

At the last count, there were
just 32 people living there.

As Foula comes into view, I can make out

the nine square miles
of cliff girt terrain

that make up this rugged island.

(relaxing music)
(plane engine running)

Now, here we are.

Terminal 1, Foula Airport.

Everything takes place in there.

Check-in, passport
control, baggage reclaim.

I'd say that was a pretty impressive

and efficient use of space.

(calm music)

Experienced travelers often say

that the journey from airport to hotel

tells you everything you need to know

about the place you are visiting.

What's true of New York, Tokyo or Dubai

is surely true of Foula where the sense

of remoteness is palpable.

In the past, especially,
living on a small island

would be a real struggle for survival

and down the centuries, Foula has had more

than its fair share of hardship.

(somber music)

The population peaked in 1881

at 267 souls.

But, since then, numbers
have declined steeply.

People moved away to find an easier life.

And, alarmingly, disease
once took a heavy toll.

At the turn of the 17th
Century, an epidemic struck.

It was called the muckle fever.

But, we know it as small pox.

It wiped out 90% of the
island's inhabitants.

Understandably, island people used to put

visiting strangers like me in quarantine.

Now, I like to consider myself to be in,

well, robust health.

And, I'm hoping that the
man I've come to visit

is going to take a lenient attitude

to the whole idea of quarantine.

Well, he should to, because he runs

the island's only B and B.

Now Brian,
- Yes, Paul?

is it safe for me to come through?

- I'll stand upwind of ya here, alright.

- 'Cause I understand
there was a tradition

of a quarantine for 24 hours.

- It's not a tradition, it's ongoing.

And, it's an active thing, yeah.

- I don't have any diseases.

Not that I know of.

- Well, you see that's the thing.

You may be come in carrying something

that you don't know of and it'll develop.

- Right.
- So, you got your three days

for it develop and then you're okay

to go and meet people where
no one catch anything.

- So, was there a history of disease

spreading through here?
- Yeah, well, small pox.

Half the population in the early 1900's.

- Did it really?
- And then,

there was influenza which
was the Second World War

just decimate everybody and again,

half the population were gone.

- Brian is originally from Adembra

and moved to Foula over 30 years ago

to run his B and B.

So, was it the remoteness
that attracted you

to the island, did you say?

- Well, no, I just look at it upon

it's the last frontier more or less

'cause there's no electricity,

there's no running water,

there's no any services of any kind.

And, there was an opportunity

to build something from scratch.

- Oh.

Like most islanders, Brian has more

than one job to make ends meet.

- Skipper of the boat, B and B,

good maintenance man, light
housekeeper, grave digger.

- [Paul] A grave digger?

- Yes, fortunately not a
lot of call for that one.

(merry music)

- [Paul] Brian also keeps some sheep

to supplement his income.

And, when he's not tending to their needs,

he's happy feeding his pet bonxie, Bob,

a great skua with a ferocious reputation.

But, Brian has him eating out of his hand.

Well, almost.

- Now, you're going catch it.

- Whilst, it's okay for Bonxie
Bob to fill up on tidbits,

getting supplies for anyone
else can be problematic.

This was once the island
shop and post office.

But, it closed years ago.

All groceries and booze now have

to come in by boat or plane.

Even worse, there's no pub.

Flouting quarantine etiquette,

I meet up with two island women.

Penny Gear and Fran Dyson-Sutton.

I told them I wasn't
contagious and they both agreed

to guide me to see Da Sneck o da Smaallie.

Whatever that is.

- Sneck means a small gap or crack,

like a notch.
- Uh huh.

And Smaal, small and lie is slope.

- Right, so it's a gap in a slope.

- Yeah.

- And, where do those words come from?

- They're Norse words.

- Right, and Foula?

Is that a Norse word, as well?

- That's the Norse, well, it's from Fugloy

and Fugloy is the Norse
word for island of birds.

- Ah, Fugloy.

How long have you both lived here?

- I was born here, so, I'm a native.

Been here all my life.

- So, you're Foula Foula
through and through?

- Yeah, yup.

- Fran, how long have you been here?

- Oh, I've been here for four years now.

So, not too long.

- You're not quite a native yet.

- No, not yet.

- As we make our way through a small glen

known as Dardal, I spot
some bonxies ahead.

Some of Bob's relatives, I suspect.

Doesn't actually look much
like a seabird, I have to say.

Looks more like a buzzard.

- I would class it as bird of prey,

as well as just being a seabird,

that's very opportunistic.

- Right, it is.
- Yeah.

They're not just content with chasing

the puffins and guillemots
that drop their food.

Some of them specialize in chasing them

to catch them and eat them.
- Right.

- They'll try and drown
the puffins and aureus.

They'll hold them under the water.

We saw a bonxie at one point that was,

it looked like it was drowning itself

until we realized that actually

it was holding an area
puffin under the water.

- They must be quite difficult
birds to learn to love.

(mysterious music)

During the breeding season, bonxies defend

their nests by dive bombing intruders.

Luckily for us, these birds
haven't laid their eggs yet

so we get off lightly as we make our way

to Da Sneck o da Smallie.

Now, this looks very
steep down here, Penny.

Such a very dramatic space, isn't it?

- It is.

- That's a huge gorge.

It's like your Grand Canyon of Foula.

- Yes, it's Foula's version
of the Grand Canyon.

- Penny and Fran disappear down a pothole

in the cliff face which
gives access to the lum,

a narrow chimney that drops precariously

to the bottom of Da Sneck.

What I enter, an eerie,
dripping moss carpeted world.

(mysterious music)

Wow, look at these huge chalk-stones

just balancing up there.

There's hundreds of tons
of rock just waiting to

fall on my head.

- I think it's best
not to think of it that

when you're just about
to talk underneath it.

- Penny tells me that Da Sneck

is one of Foula's secret places.

Folk who have left the island often return

to enjoy its daunting
and dangerous delights.

At last, we emerge onto the shore

where the Atlantic surf pounds the cliffs.

This is an awe-inspiring place.

Penny and Fran love it here.

And, I can appreciate how such wild beauty

can get under your skin.

Penny has told me that on the west side

of the island, the cliffs
are even more dramatic.

Unfortunately, on the way, I encounter

more of Bonxie Bob's relatives.

This time, they're not so
indifferent to my presence.

(grunting)

Get off.

This band of bonxies have certainly upheld

their clans reputation
as fearless protectors

of their territory.

But, it doesn't seem fair to
antagonize them for too long.

And, with scalp intact, I depart in search

of a more restful sea view.

(epic music)

The cliffs on Foula are utterly amazing.

They rise to a dizzy,
1,200 feet above the sea.

In the summer months, they
teem with tens of thousands

of breeding seabirds.

This magnificent sight is called the Kame

and it's just a gnat's whisker of being

the highest seacliff in Britain.

And, as you can see,
it's home to thousands

and thousands of seabirds.

And, it's incredible to think
that back in the old days

men and boys would climb these cliffs

and collect the eggs and the birds

and take them home for their dinner.

(reminiscent music)

I am fascinated by the
hardiness and resourcefulness

of the islanders who once thrived here.

Eating out a livelihood in
the harshest of environments.

A man who can tell me
more about the traditional

way of life is Eric Ibestor.

Eric lives in a house without electricity

or running water.

And, he describes himself as one

of the last real Foula folk still alive.

His family began crofting
here nearly 200 years ago.

Must be quite a tough life in those days.

- Well, yes, crofting
is quite hard work, yes.

You had to produce
everything that you ate and

it was all done by hand.

There was no machinery then.

Every family had, maybe, five or six cows

and you had, maybe, bout
a good number of sheep.

And, you had to grow
all your own vegetables.

Everything.

We were still doing that
up until the 1960's,

early 70's, well, 80's really.

- A film shot in 1972
shows life on the island

as Eric remembers it.

Here, he appears with
his mother and father

digging in the fields.

So, I suppose as a crofter,
it's one of the traditions

that you turn your hand to anything.

What about building a house?

I mean, was that something
that people did in the past?

- Every house in Foula was
built by whoever owned it.

Usually, there was some people

who were better at building than others

but most men folk can
do a bit of building.

My grandfather and my granduncle

are veteran of having built this house.

- [Paul] It was in the
family home that Eric

and his father, an
accomplished singer/songwriter,

were filmed playing to
an admiring audience

of island folk.

(guitar playing)
(singing)

- He wrote four or five songs

and he wrote some fiddle tunes.

He actually made some fiddles, as well.

- [Paul] Did he really?
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- [Paul] He was a highly skilled man then.

- Yeah and, probably, his biggest skill

was actually boat building.

He built, I think, nine full size boats

during his lifetime.

(guitar playing)

- [Paul] Eric has left Foula
just twice in his life.

The first time was when he went

on the only holiday he's ever taken,

traveling all the way to Shetland

with his old dad.

What did you think of Shetland?

- Well, it's not quite a patch than Foula.

I mean, scenery wise, we have,

well, I mean, Runner's
Hill is the only hill

that's higher than Foula.

They don't have cliffs like us at all.

But, it was okay, I suppose.

A bit crowded.
- [Paul] A bit crowded?

(pleasant music)

As I prepare to leave Foula,

I'm impressed by the passion that Eric has

for his wind swept island home.

You just can't get the beautiful North

out of these Foula folk.

(royal music)

Returning to Shetland, I take the ferry

to my next destination.

Fair Isle.

The remotest island community in Britain.

Up on the bridge, I chat
to Skipper Neil Thompson,

whose a Fair Isle man.

- Me mom is from Fair Isle.

And, my father's from Unst.

And, I was born in the (mumbling).

So, that makes me the average Norse man.

So, I tend to think of
myself as just being

a Fair Isle man.
- Fair Isle man.

But, I can (mumbling)
me accent, no trouble.

- [Paul] Well, these are
wild seas, are they not?

- Not today, no, this is lovely.

I've actually ordered this
for the rest of the summer.

- [Paul] Fantastic.
- Yeah.

Is this flat and calm for you then?

- Oh yeah, yeah, gosh yeah.

- [Paul] What's it like in winter?

- Well, you can get really rough seas.

The biggest wave I've taken
this boat over is 11 meters.

Yeah.

- Being surrounded by
stormy seas means that

Fair Isle can be cut
off for weeks at a time

which is hard to imagine today

as the island seems to be living up to

it's old Norse name, Fridarey,
which means Peace Island.

I think the vikings who named
it were on to something.

This place is gorgeous.

A peaceful, cliff girt haven in the sea.

With 70 residents, Fair Isle has more

than twice the population of Foula

and unlike Foula, it has a shop.

It's also rumored that there's a bar

somewhere on the island.

So, things are looking up.

Despite it's diminutive size,

Fair Isle punches way above its weight

in terms of brand recognition.

It's name is broadcast four times a day

on the shipping forecast because Fair Isle

is also the name of a sea area.

But perhaps, the main
reason that most people

have heard of Fair Isle is
because of the knitting patterns

that have made this tiny
island world famous.

(peaceful music)

From the 1920's right
through to the 1960's,

Fair Isle knitwear was highly fashionable.

Up at the island's
museum, Stewart Thompson

tells me more about the history

of these beautiful, woolen garments.

- The vikings, they settled this area

and a lot of the patterns
that you find here

are very similar to patterns
that you find in Scandinavia.

Indeed, all over the northern periphery.

(guitar playing)

- [Paul] In the days of sail,
Fair Isle was in the middle

of a major international shipping route.

And, islanders were able to swap knitwear

for goods or cash.

- People here were living

very much hand to mouth.

They had to grow all their own food.

The winters could be quite severe.

And, they were making virtually no money.

So, anything extra was a huge benefit.

(magical music)

- Trading with foreign ships

spread the work of Fair Isle
knitters across the seas.

In 1902, the garments
got a marketing boost

when the crew of the Scotia
and Arctic Expedition

chose the jerseys to keep out the cold.

But, real popularity came
when King Edward VIII

was painted posing with his favorite pooch

wearing a Fair Isle v-neck.

(upbeat music)

Back at Stewart's home, his wife Katrina

and her neighbor, Holly,
are busy knitting.

There's a cruise ship
coming in two days time

and they want to have as much as possible

to sell to tourists.

It's highly skilled painstaking work.

Do you think there's ever been a desire

to really get the industry

kicked off in a big way on the island?

Would it ever be possible to do that

because it's such a famous name, isn't it?

As a brand name Fair Isle.
- But, if you were talking

about a big way, you're talking about

going into electric knitting machines

and in doing, more or
less, what they would,

well, what you're going to get from Japan

or somewhere else large scale.

And, it would be electric
knitting machines

and linking machines and you're getting

totally away from the tradition that way.

What takes us about 10 hours to knit,

they would be doing in, oh,

a tenth of the time almost

on the knitting machine.

In which case, you would
become more of a finisher

rather than a knitter.

I think the term knitter would disappear.

- [Paul] And, this is a craft?

This is a real genuine
- Oh, it is a craft.

handcraft, isn't it?
- Oh yes.

Yes, no, no, it is a craft.

- The theme of Fair Isle knitting

owes much to its strategic position

in our Northern Seas.

But, this location was
to become a liability

during the Second World War.

Just before Christmas 1941, the Luftwaffe

attacked this lighthouse.

And, the bombs that fell killed

the assistant keeper's wife

and badly injured their daughter.

And then, just a couple
of days after New Year,

the Germans returned with deadlier force.

And, this time, the bombs
killed the keeper's wife

and their daughter and a young gunner

who was defending the lighthouse.

And, their names are commemorated
by this plaque over here.

Now, it's terrifying to think that even in

such a remote place as this,

no one was safe from the ravages of war.

(daunting music)

But, this many blitz in
the battle of Britain

wasn't all a one-sided affair.

In January 1941, a German Heinkel

came down after a dog fight with the RAF.

And, this is the wreckage of the plane.

But, after the war, when the skies

no longer threaten the island,

Fair Isle became a target for a different

kind of aerial interest,
twitching or bird watching,

to be precise.

Fair Isle is an important breeding colony

for thousands of seabirds.

It's also a vital stopping
off point for migrating birds.

And, there are more
rare species found here

than anywhere else in the U.K.,

making this island a twitcher's paradise.

- We are very, very keen
to see the Fair Isle Wren

and we saw it yesterday.

Great thrill.

- We saw an osprey the other day

being pursued by a
number of oystercatchers.

That was a good sight.

- We've had three, what they call,

British rarities this week.

We have bryce reed warbler
and two thrush nightingales.

- We are very fond of puffins.

I think it's not the most
spectacular bird, maybe,

but it's definitely the cutest.

- The unique status of
Fair Isle as a place

to study and understand bird migration

was first recognized in the 1930's.

Today, the whole island is owned

by the National Trust for Scotland

which seeks to encourage birds

and bird watchers alike.

To get an idea of the
ornithological riches on offer,

I'm joining the island's
keenest young bird watcher

for some elementary instruction.

Henry can certainly tell his bonxies

from his kittiwakes.

Henry, what do you think
we're gonna see today?

- Lots of the seabirds really.

Also, a lot of, maybe, a puffin or two.

It's not the best time of the year but

we might see some.

- I was once a proud member

of The Young Ornithologist Club.

But, sadly, I forgotten
most of what I once knew.

So, I'm hoping that young Henry

can jog my birdwatcher's memory.

So, what can we see?

What's that down there?

- [Henry] They're guillemots,
common guillemots.

- [Paul] They look like penguins.

- I know, they're
related to the auk family

which is sort of the penguin family.

- Really?
- I think.

What else have we got?

- [Henry] There's a lot of
fulmars nesting over there.

- [Paul] Yeah, where are the fulmars?

- See there's that white
bird just above that.

There's three birds.

- [Paul] Oh yeah.

Of all the seabirds that
you're familiar with, Henry,

which one is your favorite?

- Ooh, that's a hard question.

- [Paul] What about puffins?

Do you like puffins?

- [Henry] Yes, I do
enjoy puffins actually.

- [Paul] So, how long does
a puffin live for then.

- About 36 years.

- That's a long time.

It's older than you.

It's almost four times your age.

- Is it older than you?

- Uh, well, I'll keep ya guessing.

Not as old as me actually.

There's something about Henry's accent

that suggests he's a bit of
a migrating bird himself.

A suspicion that's confirmed
when I meet his father,

artist Tommy Hyndman, on the golf course.

Now, Tommy, I can tell from your accent

that you are not from these parts.

Is that right?

- I'm from North America.

- Really?
- Yup.

You surprise me.

- Yeah, I'm from Saratoga
Springs, New York.

- Tommy has lived on the
island for seven years

and often plays here so I'm
already at a disadvantage.

The weather's not helping either.

I can hardly see the
greens through the fog

on this Britain's remotest golf course.

- When the Northern Lighthouse Board sent

their Scottish lighthouse
keepers to Fair Isle,

they brought with them their families

and their traditions
and with it, of course,

they brought a couple
of sets of golf clubs.

- Right.

- And, on the croft land, they
devised a little golf course.

In those days, they would use

steamed pudding tins.

- [Paul] Fancy, I hope.

- [Tommy] Uh, yes, they'd
use those for the holes

and the pin, it wouldn't
have a flag on it,

but it was just a broomstick
stuck in the ground.

- [Paul] Pretty rudimentary stuff.

- [Tommy] Pretty rudimentary stuff.

- I should just warn you that
I'm a pretty good player.

(curious music)

(yelling)

(yelling)

It's disappeared into the mist.

- No, I see it.
- Oh no, I see it.

It's miles away.

- Not too bad.

- Not too bad.

Let's go and find those balls.

To be honest, finding
anything on this fairway

might be a bit of a problem.

As it currently looks more
like a demolition site

than a golf course.

Thankfully, there are
just six holes to play.

The place is full of rocks.

Now, what's the story behind that.

- Well, in February,

the wall of the lighthouse
was washed out by

humongous waves.

Matter of fact, they were
actually the highest waves

in the world that day.

- [Paul] Really?

- They knocked out the walls and smashed

into the generator room and

it was quite scary actually.

- As we pick our way through the rubble,

Tommy tells me how he was inspired

by the tradition of Fair Isle golfing.

- Course, when the lighthouse was

decommissioned, no one's golfed since.

I thought, well, that would be

an interesting thing to reinstate.

It'd be something besides bird watching.

- So, it's a tourist attraction.

- Yeah.

(fun music)
(groans)

- Perhaps, it's the thought of playing

such a unique and remote course

that sharpens my competitive instincts.

Damn it.

And so, a leisurely round of golf

becomes a clash of titans

until we're on the final green.

Oh no, no, stop.

(plunks)

- Into the sea.

- Well, I think that's
me out the game really.

There's a lot at stake here now, Tommy.

You're a gentleman, sir.

I enjoyed that.

(serene music)

The humiliation of my golfing defeat

lifts with the mist, revealing Fair Isle

touched by the light of the setting sun.

Climbing a steep and rocky headland,

I'm stunned by the beauty of this magical,

peaceful island.

What better way for me
to end my grand tour

of Foula and Fair Isle than to watch

the sun set over the sea

from these fabulous cliffs.

Join me on my next grand tour
when I'll be voyaging south

to experience the delights of Loch Lomond

and it's landlocked islands.