Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Arabic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
English
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Greek
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
PAUL MURTON: The lochan-studded expanse of Rannoch Moor -
an icon of the untamed.
A true wilderness.
And once a place of thieves and wild men.
For generations, the West Highlands were considered to be
a dangerous place.
A country to be tamed.
First the first militarily came, and then the engineers
and they built roads and railways, and harnessed the power of nature.
Lochs are Scotland's gift to the world
and are the product of an element
that we have in spectacular abundance -
Water.
It has been estimated that
there are more than 31,000 lochs in Scotland.
They come in all shapes and sizes,
from long fjord-like sea lochs,
great freshwater lochs of the central Highlands -
to the innumerable lochans that stud the open moors.
In this series, I'm on a loch-hopping journey
across Scotland, discovering how they shape the character
of the people who live close to their shores.
For this grand tour, I'm taking a walk on the wild side.
My journey starts on the beautiful banks of Loch Tulla,
crosses Rannoch Moor,
and then by Loch Rannoch and Loch Tummel I will go.
It reaches journey's end
on a faery mountain.
Loch Tulla lies on the southern edge of the great Rannoch Moor.
This wild country was first settled thousands of years ago.
To see the evidence of habitation for myself,
I'm being ferried out to a tiny island
called Eilean Stalcair,
where some of the first people to lead settled lives
in this part of Scotland made their home.
It's known as a crannog -
that's an artificial island built to keep the occupants safe
from wild animals and from their human enemies
raiding and plundering.
Back in the Iron Age, over 2,000 years ago,
the crannog would have been a defensive home
to an extended family,
living in a thatched timber house sitting on wooden stilts
above the water.
Crannogs were once very common.
At least 600 have been identified by archaeologists
in Scotland's lochs.
The earliest belong to the Stone Age.
Others were used for hundreds of years.
This crannog was occupied up until the 14th century
by Clan MacGregor, who once dominated this whole area.
When they lost it to the Campbells, their bard wrote a lament
recalling their "happy days on the shores of Loch Tulla,"
and I can see why they were sad to leave it.
It's amazing to think
that during the last ice age, the whole of Rannoch Moor
was covered by a great icecap.
As the glaciers melted,
they created the loch-studded landscape
we're familiar with today.
Most of the moor lies over 400 metres above sea level.
In winter, its many lochans are covered in ice,
which makes the prospect of taking a dunk in one of them -
even in summer -
less than appealing.
I meet Calum MacLean on the banks of Loch Ba.
He's a devotee of wild swimming -
a rather grand name for something
that people have been doing for years.
Calum blogs about his watery adventures,
which take him to some extreme locations,
including an icebound lochan
high in the frozen Cairngorm mountains.
Today he invites me to take a plunge in water
that is thankfully ice-free.
Do you ever actually measure the temperatures scientifically?
Oh, I never measure the temperature with an actual thermometer.
I think that's far too scientific for me I think.
I usually stick my toe in and depending on how much it hurts
and how much I scream, that's how cold the water is that day.
Are we going to be screaming, do you think?
When we get in, it's going to hurt, that's usually what happens.
It never gets easier. Heart-stopping? Possibly, yeah.
Is there a gradation of wildness you're looking for?
How does this compare, Loch Ba?
Where we are here, it's quite calm you know.
We're not too far from the road.
But yeah, I've been to some more extreme places, you might say.
The Gulf of Corryvreckan between Jura and Scarba.
That was a particularly fun one
where the current sweeps through.
It's one of the biggest whirlpools, I think, around. (LAUGHTER)
Luckily, it was a slack tide so we were OK.
But were you not scared?
I wasn't scared, no. I was excited more than scared.
So, it's adrenaline rather than just pure fear? That's right, yeah.
Ah, I'm ready for this.
You ready? Ready for anything.
Right. How does it feel so far?
It's fine, I'm wearing a wet suit. (CHUCKLES)
The plan today is for Calum to swim the length of Loch Ba.
I'm going to try my best to keep up with him,
at least as far as the nearby island of Eilean Mollach.
Perhaps I should have brought my rubber ring.
But at least my wet suit means I shouldn't die of hypothermia.
Well, it's really quite cold out here I have to say, Calum.
Thank you so much for bringing me out for this wonderful experience.
(LAUGHS) But the views are amazing.
They are.
It's like a kind of trout's eye view. It is.
But yeah, it's a fantastic way to see this beautiful landscape around us.
And we're in the middle of Rannoch moor.
Who would have thought it?
Exactly, lots of people come here for walking, hiking.
How many people come here to swim?
Very few. I wonder why? (CHUCKLES)
My problem is that I've only ever really swam
a maximum of about 10 lengths before
and what we're proposing to do must be a good bit more than that,
about 10 times more than that.
So I'm not sure I'd be able to make it all the way.
I think you might be right.
I reckon it's about half a kilometre or so.
Urgh, well I'm getting a bit tired now.
Oh, look, I can stand up!
Oh! (LAUGHS)
There's no need to panic at all.
I can literally walk to this island if I need to.
That's right, yeah.
You've invited me here for a swim but it's a bit more of a walk. We could walk the whole way.
I'm going to stroll over this way, if you don't mind.
Unfortunately, our reception committee onshore
is a swarm of vicious midges.
Oh, wade the last few feet to the shore.
Well, Calum, I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to make it,
I'm just a bit too peched, so, if you don't mind,
I think I'll just wait for a boat.
So, good luck, my friend.
OK, well, I'll leave you with the midges then, Paul.
Happy wild swimming.
There he goes. Good luck, Calum.
(BUZZING) These midges really are horrendous.
It's time to move on.
Fleeing the swarms of miniature blood-sucking beasties,
I leave Loch Ba, and follow the old road west, across the moor.
It was built by the great 18th century engineer Thomas Telford
and follows the route of an older military road
built to suppress the lawless and rebellious clans
who had made this wild stretch of country their home.
Nearing the high point on Telford's road,
I'm looking for a little-known monument
to a remarkable man.
Much of the western half of Rannoch Moor
has been owned for many years by the Fleming family.
Now, the most famous member of the family has to be Ian Fleming,
the author and creator of James Bond 007.
But what a lot of people don't know is that Ian had an older brother
who, at one time, was much the more famous of the two.
Long before Ian Fleming had put creative pen to paper,
Peter Fleming was already
a successful travel writer and novelist.
During the war, he worked for British intelligence
and drew on his experience to write a spy thriller.
The Sixth Column was described by critics
as the blueprint for his younger brother's Bond story,
Casino Royale.
Despite the similarities,
Peter encouraged Ian's literary endeavours
and even suggested the name 'Miss Moneypenny'.
He loved the outdoors and was an enthusiastic sportsman
with a passion for shooting.
But it was out here on the wilds of Rannoch Moor
that he suddenly and unexpectedly died of a heart attack.
And this cairn marks the exact spot where he fell -
a memorial to a remarkable life and an unsung literary hero.
Journeying into the heart of Rannoch Moor,
I encounter its biggest loch by far -
Loch Laidon.
A faint path follows the shoreline.
And after a 14-mile hike,
I come across an unexpected sight -
a railway station apparently in the middle of nowhere.
Rannoch station is one of the remotest in the country.
Despite this, trains from London stop here.
Hi! Paul.
To find out about the line that crosses Rannoch Moor,
I'm meeting up with railway historian and photographer Norman McNab.
Now, Norman, why build a railway line
through such a desolate expanse of moorland?
Well, there was a need to open up the West Highlands.
It was a particular desire
to get a connection from Glasgow to Fort William and then onward
from Fort William to the west coast sea,
to tap into the lucrative herring industry.
And you've got to remember that the road across Rannoch Moor
to the west by Corrie Ba
was a very, very...
It was nothing much more than a rough track,
as it was in the days of the stagecoach.
So getting to Fort William was very hard.
Over the course of eight years,
5,000 navvies toiled in horrendous conditions
to build the railway across the moor,
where deep peat banks forced the engineers to float the line
on rafts of brushwood and ash.
The first passenger services eventually began in 1894.
What's interesting to me, to celebrate the opening of the line,
this wonderful book here, Mountain, Moor And Loch,
was produced when this line was opened,
presumably to encourage a wealthier sort of visitor.
Yep, yeah, yes. Absolutely.
It's a beautifully illustrated book as well.
The poetry of it all was bound to enthuse people.
"From the window of a railway carriage,
"it is the reverse of wearisome."
As true today as it was when it was written.
And of course, you can tell the character of a person,
man or woman, by their attitude to crossing Rannoch Moor.
Now, they're either stimulated and excited by it,
and wondrously so,
or they find it a boring place.
How do you find it?
Well, I find it a very stimulating place.
Norman and wants to get a shot of the London sleeper train
crossing the famous Rannoch Viaduct,
so we set off over the heather to get into position.
It's a great view of the viaduct. Yep.
This is absolutely ideal, Paul.
All we want is the light.
What are you looking for
when you come to choose a location to take a photograph?
Well, I'm looking for composition which sets the train
within the landscape, so the train is just part of it.
Its primarily to give the impression of the scenery and the location.
Particularly to bring over this aspect of the wild openness.
And it's something unique to the West Highland Line
as it crosses over Rannoch moor.
It has real drama.
With the lighting and the clear visibility
it can be quite fantastic.
(TRAIN BLOWS HORN)
OK, after all the waiting, here comes the train. OK.
Check the lens cap is off and the power is on.
This is very exciting!
And this is the moment, Paul. This is what we've been waiting for.
Yeah. One, two... You getting this? Three.
That's brilliant. Yeah. Whoa!
Do you wave at trains, Norman? Yes, you do!
Hey!
They're waving back, look.
Yes, I'm not sure about that gesture though, Norman.
(LAUGHS)
Having got our shot of the train -
suitably invested with the drama of a desolate location -
I leave Norman and explore the loch-studded moor,
where I'm fascinated to see ancient tree roots
protruding from the dark peat.
All across the moor, you come across roots like this
sticking out of the peat.
These are the remains of a once-great forest
that covered this desolate expanse thousands of years ago.
Many of the roots are pine trees.
Early victims of climate change.
Just after the last ice age,
the climate is thought to have been warmer and drier than now,
encouraging the spread of forest cover.
But then things changed.
It got wetter and cooler, and moss thrived,
which developed into layers of peat.
This eventually suffocated the forests,
but preserved the remains of trees
which once grew here thousands of years ago.
My old railway guide, Mountain Moor And Loch,
mentions the curious sight of so many old tree roots
on an otherwise treeless moor
and goes on to explain that local folk
used to use this peat pine as candles.
They would dry it out, break it into little splinters
and then light the splinters which made excellent candles
to spin wool by.
Not that the local folk had much choice
in the matter of their illumination
because candles were far too expensive.
Reaching the road, I pick up a push bike and pedal west,
following the River Gaur as it makes its way down to Loch Rannoch,
which, in the days of the Jacobites, was an unruly place indeed.
This was a wild country without roads,
presided over by a warrior chief.
Alexander Struan Robertson is the only man
known to have taken part in all three Jacobite risings.
But Struan Robertson had gentler beginnings.
He was actually a divinity student at St Andrew's University
when he joined the first Jacobite rebellion in 1689,
In 1715, he was captured at the Battle of Sheriffmuir,
but then escaped to France.
And then in 1745, at the age of 75,
the old warrior marched off to join Bonnie Prince Charlie,
whose defeat at Culloden cost him dear.
The estates of Struan Robertson were forfeited,
and he lived out the rest of his days in a cottage
close to the great Black Wood of Rannoch.
Today, the Black Wood is one of the largest areas
of ancient Caledonian pine forest left in the country.
The Scots pine is the dominant tree species here.
In Latin it's known as Pinus sylvestris,
but you have to be very careful how you pronounce it
if you want to avoid offence.
And I'm being as careful as I can.
Pinus, or Pinus sylvestris as it's known,
has recently been voted as Scotland's national tree.
And here in the Black Wood of Rannoch
are many fine old specimens,
including this one which must have been a mere sapling
when Struan Robertson lived here.
Amazing to think of all that history it has seen.
Struan Robertson wouldn't recognise my next destination.
Nestling beneath the peak of Schiehallion is Kinloch Rannoch.
It's a quiet, respectable sort of place.
But when the old clan chief was alive,
this area was at the heart of a rebellious community.
When the Jacobites were finally defeated,
it became a refuge for desperate hungry men on the run.
Because the people were starving, the retuning warriors
had to resort to theft to keep their families alive,
and soon Rannoch acquired a reputation
for cattle rustling and lawlessness.
A captain of the army of the occupation wrote,
"The people of this country are the greatest thieves in Scotland
"and were all in the late rebellion."
But within a few years the village of Kinloch Rannoch was established.
Schools and churches were built
in an attempt to civilise the wild clans folk.
And it seems to have worked.
There's not a rebellious Jacobite to be seen!
Leaving Kinloch Rannoch, I take the old military road,
following the southern shores of Loch Tummel.
After its warlike history, it now seems the epitome of peace.
And what could be more peaceful than sailing?
Loch Tummel has become a favourite location
for lovers of water sports,
and dinghy sailing in particular.
Despite the gale that's blowing,
I throw caution to the wind
and join veteran sailor Jim
and his crew member Amanda, dodging other boats
as squalls race across the water.
So, are we going to jibe or are we going to go about?
Oh, no, we're going to go about in this weather. (LAUGHS)
Would you normally be coming out to the loch in this weather?
Not normally, no.
This is just for a bit of fun, really.
AMANDA: So, if you look upwind,
you can see dark patches are sitting on the water
and some of them have more ripples the others
and that's generally when your squalls are coming in,
when your boat will start to keel over quite quickly.
It could flatten you completely? Yes.
Which we don't want. No.
When did you start sailing?
About 1949. Good grief! Really? Yep.
Well, it's done you well, hasn't it? Yeah.
So, no disrespect, but you really are an old sea dog?
Well, I'd hardly say an old sea dog
but we're all wrinkly, anyhow!
You've spent a life time at the tiller.
As we tack backwards and forwards across the loch,
Jim tells me we're sailing over land
that was once farmed.
There are even the ruins
of an ancient Clan Menzies hunting lodge beneath our keel.
Everything was drowned in the 1950s when the loch was dammed.
Intrigued, I leave Jim's boat and cycle 11km
to Loch Tummel's famous Queen's View
to see for myself how the landscape has been altered
by this man-made flood.
Now this really is a grand view
and one worthy of royal appreciation,
but you can tell from this old photograph postcard
that was taken in the 1930s
just how much it has been altered by the rising water levels.
There's a whole area of land here that's been flooded.
And the tiny island in the background is, in the photograph,
nothing more than a wooded hill beside the River Tummel.
It's all drowned now
but still rather beautiful.
Just around the corner from Queen's View is the Clunie Dam.
Built in 1951, it holds back the weight of Loch Tummel
and water from a vast catchment area,
all part of a hugely ambitious hydro-electric scheme.
This archive film from the 1950s shows the dramatic scale
of the engineering works that were undertaken
to harness the power of water and turn it into electricity
for the Highlands and beyond.
An army of men toiled day and night, deep underground,
drilling and blasting their way through solid rock
to divert the flow of water into a network of dams.
This is the Clunie Memorial Arch.
It actually shares
the same dimensions as the tunnel
that was built to carry water
from the loch to the power station.
And it clearly shows the scale of the tunnel,
which, at the time,
was the largest of its type built in Britain.
And there are names inscribed here too, look,
to remind people
of the human cost of the project.
There are seven massive structures
that make up the huge hydro-electric scheme.
At the nearby Pitlochry dam I meet up with Gonna O'Donnell,
one of the famous Tunnel Tigers
who collectively dug over 400 miles of tunnels in Scotland.
The first job you went and got in a tunnel was a spanner man.
That's the man that held the drill for the driller
that was drilling the holes.
You held that drill,
but you couldn't wear gloves,
no-one had any earmuffs.
I was stone deaf, completely stone deaf.
The men on the tunnels, they were miners.
Some of them were platelayers.
That's the men that look after the railway line.
They were platelayers and then you had the powder monkey.
He was looking after the explosives.
Then you had the loco driver.
He was taking in and out what we called the muck.
That was the gravel and stones.
We called that muck.
It must have been very dangerous work.
Everything is dangerous when you don't know.
When I went in first, everybody looked after me
and anybody that came in after me, I looked after him,
and if I saw a stone hanging above you when you were drilling,
if I saw a stone,
maybe a tonne weight or a half-a-tonne weight
or 500 weight,
I would push you out of the road and point up.
I mean, it was a waste of time trying to talk, nobody could hear you.
Gonna lived on-site in a camp high on the mountainside,
surrounded by hundreds of other men.
Many had come from Ireland,
others from Eastern Europe,
having fled the cold war to work on the hydro scheme.
When you come back to Scotland and you see these amazing dams,
what does that make you feel?
Er, what do I say? It makes me feel about 18 feet tall. (LAUGHS)
It makes me very proud
that I was a small part of it,
a very small part of it, but I was there.
In the archive room at the Pitlochry dam,
I meet up with Brian Haslam.
Brian was a young engineering graduate
when he first worked on the dams.
I was excited. Um...
I don't know why but I had faith in my own ability.
The engineering side didn't bother me.
I felt quite confident, but I hadn't got a clue.
When I first went in a tunnel, I didn't know.
I could have been on the moon for all I knew.
It's a great collective effort. Oh, yeah.
When we look at some of these pictures here,
you can see men working together
on really complicated, difficult tasks.
Yeah.
Using huge pieces of machinery.
That was just making a machine there. Yeah.
Now, what's happening here? This is the Blondin.
It's a sort of aerial ropeway
that carried the concrete across the dam,
named after the guy who walked over Niagara Falls.
Ah, so you were flying concrete?
Yup, yeah.
From one side of the glen to the other.
Yeah, we were doing just that.
So, what have we got here? We've got this very precarious business. (LAUGHTER)
They look like they're about to disappear into the maw of hell!
This is just an example
of the health and safety rules at the time.
Which was zilch. Nonexistent really, yeah.
What do you think is your most abiding memory
of working on these tunnels?
Four years of...
..happiness.
Really? Yeah. Yeah, yeah.
I get quite nostalgic about this, and um...
I grew up when I came to the schemes.
I met the big, wide world.
I met wonderful people, was doing a wonderful job
in a wonderful place.
I know being inside a tunnel
doesn't sound like a wonderful place.
But the company was good?
Somebody once said to me it was like a family.
And you were, you looked after each other. That was it.
And that stuck with me.
Leaving the legacy of dams and tunnels,
which are still generating electricity
from the wild waters of Rannoch,
I head to my final destination -
the shapely peak of Schiehallion.
This mountain was once considered sacred by the early people
who lived in its shadow -
a magical place and the haunt of faery folk.
But in the 18th century, Schiehallion was tamed by science
in a brilliant experiment to determine the mass of the Earth.
To do this, you first needed to work out the mass of something smaller -
like a mountain.
In 1775, the astronomer royal Nevil Maskelyne
and the mathematician Charles Hutton chose Schiehallion
for their experiment
because of the mountain's regular, conical shape.
If you look at any OS map you can see quite clearly
from the contour lines
just how uniform the mountain is.
Now, they're placed at 10 metres apart, these lines.
Interestingly, Charles Hutton, the mathematician
actually invented contour lines
to help him with his calculations
to work out the volume of Schiehallion.
It's an amazing thought that the very first contour lines
in the world were drawn right here
and have been used by map makers and hill walkers ever since.
The contour lines enabled Maskelyn to calculate the volume,
and then the mass of Schiehallion.
And then, by scaling up,
he was able to work out the mass of the Earth.
It took 17 long weeks to complete the experiment,
partly because the weather that summer was dreadful.
Despite this though,
the experiment was considered to be a great success
and became close to the modern figure for the mass of the Earth -
5.9 x 10 to the power of 24kg.
However, because the experiment had taken so long to complete,
it bankrupted the Royal Society which had funded the project.
But, as they say, there's no gain without a wee bit of pain.
Onwards and upwards!
Although Schiehallion had been tamed by science,
its reputation for wildness continued.
The scientists threw a party on the mountain for the locals
who had helped them with the experiment.
It was quite a night!
The fiddler burnt his fiddle
and then burnt the bothy to the ground.
It's hard to be a rock and not to roll!
So here we are, the summit of Schiehallion -
the faery mountain of the ancient Caledonians.
And from here you can see my route
all the way from the wilds of Rannoch Moor,
making this the perfect place for me to end my grand tour.
Join me for my next grand tour
when I travel into the secret heart of Knoydart
and search for Jacobite gold.
Captions by Red Bee Media (c) SBS Australia 2019
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.