We start our odyssey in the Oakle Hills at Castle Campbell.
Stirling is at the crossroads of Scotland.
Here since time immemorial, Scottish history has been forged.
An earlier bridge on this site was the setting for one of William Wallace's famous victories
in 1297.
The battle site is in view of the 220 feet high National Wallace Monument which soars
above the floor of the Stirling Valley, tribute par excellence to a giant of a man both in
stature and spirit.
It is unfortunate that such a hero ended his days as one of Scotland's greatest martyrs.
He was hung, drawn and quartered in London, England and his limbs displayed at Newcastle,
Berwick, Stirling and Perth.
His head was fixed on Tower Bridge.
There are many fine examples of the stonemason's craft.
Stirling Castle is one of the most elegant in Scotland.
From the castle walls, seven different battlefields can be seen and each of these battles was
fought in the name of Scottish independence.
The most famous was Bannockburn where Robert the Bruce's army gave Edward the second a
decisive hiding in 1314 and in the Chapel Royal the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots
was crowned but more of her shortly.
Bannockburn's a laid back rural town, mega big in history, a place to linger before heading
on to wilder highland places.
Some of the most stunning days are when the peaks are snow covered.
The bridge poised above Killen looks more like the Himalayas than Scotland.
The cattle get tucked into an early breakfast on a frosty morning.
Our meandering journey takes us to the Trossachs which lie just to the north and west of Glasgow.
First to the Lake of Mintheath, Scotland's only lake.
You see it during the last gasp of winter when trees are eager to burst into leaf.
No other patch of Scottish water has such a romantic history.
Spring comes with a colourful fanfare.
The Augustinian Priory of Inch Mahome dates from 1238.
This tree was probably a sapling when Robert the Bruce was last here but by the time that
young Mary Queen of Scots arrived in 1547 it was fully grown.
Robert the Bruce visited the Priory on three occasions.
The last time he had bed and breakfast here was in 1310.
In 1547 the four year old Mary Queen of Scots was taken to the Priory for safety.
Inch Mahome is a place for worship and contemplation, it has top marks for tranquillity.
Trusting, trusting, willing, willing, blind to, blind to be.
Loch Cutron was a favourite haunt of such well known figures as Sir Walter Scott and William
Wordsworth.
However, this Sir Walter Scott, still with the original engines, is active today and
some may unkindly add producing as much steam as its poetic predecessor.
It was built in Dumbarton, dismantled and rebuilt here in 1889.
The Trossachs too has its infamous sons, in particular Rob Roy McGregor, cattle reaver,
brigand, Robin Hood and to many a hero.
He was all of these, a man to take along if you had some sword work or cattle rustling
in mind.
This was Rob's back yard, he was born on the edge of the loch in 1660.
The rough bounds of the Trossachs in Loch Lomond was his sanctuary.
For justice and honour, for justice and honour, he fought for freedom and fair play, and how
he hated poverty.
He shared with those who lived and watched, the fortunes of the affluents.
Some men are weak, some men are strong, some just don't know right from wrong, some men
are kind, some men are cruel.
For justice and honour, for justice and honour, banished from his native hills, a man with
no identity, surviving on his wit and stealth, but always true unto himself.
For justice and honour, for justice and honour, banished from his native hills, a man with
no identity, surviving on his wit and stealth, but always true unto himself.
For justice and honour, for justice and honour, banished from his native hills, a man with
no identity, surviving on his wit and stealth, but always true unto himself.
For justice and honour, for justice and honour, for justice and honour, for justice and honour,
for justice and honour, banished from his native hills, a man with no identity, surviving
Lough Lomond still remains the country's best-known and best-loved loch, and with good
reason.
It's an island-studied stretch of water steeped in folklore and legend, a place of constantly
changing moods and views.
On the east shore is Inversnay, near here Rob Roy had a farm.
Across the loch are these rugged peaks, a few vital statistics.
Lough Lomond is 18 miles long and four and a half miles wide at its broadest.
Though the surface is only 20 feet above sea level, the deepest section is 630 feet.
It's a romantic place.
It also has the largest stretch of fresh water in Britain.
There are some 23 named islands.
Local residents don't always approve of water sports.
The mailboat sets off on its rounds.
Across the Balmaha, the mailboat's base is in Skellach, the Isle of the Old Woman.
It is one of Lough Lomond's most important islands.
The old woman in question was daughter of the King of Leinster.
Even before the 13th century, a church was built on the island and dedicated to her.
Here is the ancient burial place of various clans, including Clan MacGregor.
The boat continues on its rounds on what must be one of the most fun mail runs in Britain.
Mail delivery is very slick.
This islet, probably a crannog, known as Inch-Gulbraith, was most likely built by Iron Age people.
The aerial shot was taken in winter, for it's almost impossible to see the castle in summer
when the trees are in leaf.
Not much is known about the history of Inch-Gulbraith.
It's shrouded in mystery as well as foliage.
Inch-Morin is the largest of the Lough Lomond islands, offering a hotel, a castle, golden
gravel bays, enticing meadows, and five-star views.
Here for a while, licking his wounds, came Robert the Bruce, also Isabella, Countess
of Albany, after the traumatic experience of losing her husband, father, and two sons,
who were executed at Stirling Castle in 1425.
Back in the 20th century on Inch-Morin, the skipper sets off to deliver the Royal Mail.
The village of West, on the west bank of the loch, is a well-manicured cluster of cottages
under the sharp shadow of the parish church.
Lough Lomond, in the early morning mist, still waters running deep,
Soon the sunrise will softly wake you from your sleep.
Yes, l remember that first dawn we shared together.
It just went on and on, and although l am far away,
l am thinking of you still, and l'm longing for those green Lough Lomond hills.
all its glory, as evening bids the day good-bye.
And although l am far away, l am thinking of you still,
and l'm longing for those green Lough Lomond hills.
And although l am far away, l am thinking of you still, and l'm longing for those green
Lough Lomond hills.
There was once a distillery on one of the islands and a nudist colony on another.
There are castles and crannogs and real-life wallabies on others.
The Vikings sailed these waters, pillaging from their longships, which they took overland
to tarp it from nearby Lough Lomond.
On a winter's day in 1895, 26,000 people walked on the ice.
Supplies were taken to the islands by horse and cart.
Lough Lomond is a big loch, and it's a host of big fish.
A pike weighing 77 pounds has been caught here.
The summit of Ben Lomond at over 3,000 feet is a great vantage point.
The name means Beacon Hill.
To sail or wander the bonny banks of Lough Lomond is to be presented by a kaleidoscope
of views, most of them breathtaking and all of them different.
Let's hope that this wonderful loch remains a playground for all to enjoy and that generations
from now, people will still appreciate the unspoiled beauty of this magical place.
From here, at the cobbler, Hamish will accompany
you on the journey westwards.
Thanks, Sean.
This is a great little mountain perched high above the village of Arraher, a favorite haunt
for Glaswegian walkers and climbers.
The center peak, the highest, has a hole in its rocky crest, the cobbler's needle.
This is the
Loch Fyne was at one time renowned for its kippers, and the town of Inverere, famous
as the seat of the Campbells. Indeed, it was the town of the Campbell dynasty. In 1415,
Colin Campbell built a castle here, but by 1743 it was in need of some basic improvements,
so the third duke demolished both castle and town, building the new castle in the old site
and the town a respectable distance of half a mile away at Gallows Foreland. The work
wasn't completed until 1794. This retired polar traveller is now a resident of Inverere.
The signal tower perches over the town as if suffering from vertigo.
Everything considered, the drastic changes to Inverere
have been successful. The castle's an imposing structure, reflecting more opulent times.
Over the hill, Cologne Castle, dating from 1440, is another Campbell stronghold at the head of
Loch Hall. This one stands like a retired prizefighter. In fact, it has had a relatively
peaceful life. Beyond these islands and Loch Hall is the defile of the Pass of Brander.
In this pass, both Bruce and Wallace had separate victories.
The Glasgow to Auburn Road goes through the Pass of Brander. One is now only ambushed by mid-years.
Yet another steamboat, albeit a youthful version.
To the south lies the elegant Kiles of Bute and Rothesay, where the castle,
parked in the town centre, is a must. Its history goes back before the 13th century.
Close by is Dunoon, symbolised by its pier. The statue of Highland Mary still gazes
pensively towards Ayrshire, where she and Robbie Burns were lovers.
She was born in Dunoon and they exchanged Bibles over running water, an old Scottish marriage rite.
We see Dunoon from the site of the old castle, of which nothing is left.
Cutting through from Loch Fine, which is a saltwater loch, to the Sound of Dura on the
Atlantic side, is the Artery of the Crinne Canal, a haunt for weekend sailors.
It's a great base for exploring the intricate seaways to the west, where tide races and whirlpools
are as common as seagulls, and ducks. A bluefin time.
When St Columbo was 42, he sailed from Ireland in his coracle, a shoebox of a boat.
According to local tradition, he took up residence in this cave at the time of his death,
but he was not allowed to enter the cave.
He was not allowed to enter the cave at the time of his death.
He was not allowed to enter the cave at the time of his death.
He was not allowed to enter the cave at the time of his death.
His cave is one of the most remarkable relics of early Christianity in Scotland.
This place is big in ambience, and one can almost feel his presence.
It's as if his reverence had just popped down to the shops for some tea bags.
So
as we sing all our praises to thee
your love will be the strength in me
from ever to ever my guide
in this land I will stay
you foundations to lay
forever with you by my side
now safely sure
we give thanks to thee lord
thy devoted servant to be
and soon we'll be heard
the truth of thy word
and the holy trinity
your love will be
the strength in me
from ever to ever my guide
in this land I will stay
you foundations to lay
forever with you by my side
your love will be
the strength in me
from ever to ever my guide
in this land I will stay
you foundations to lay
forever with you by my side
forever with you by my side
Above this river was Danad, once capital of Dalriada,
and the footprint of Fergus, first king of Dalriada.
Beside it, a rare carving of a boar, unfortunately ravaged by time.
Here is an elegant structure known as the bridge across the Atlantic.
It gives access to Seal Island, an area which was famous for its slate quarries.
Now that the dust has settled, it is an almost bohemian feel.
An excellent place to hibernate and contemplate their joining islands, straight from Alice in Wonderland.
Working our way up the west coast, we come to Kerrera, a happy, glamorous island moored close to Auburn.
When you step ashore, you step back in time.
There's no public transport on the island, you walk.
Glencastle is at the southern end of the island.
Though it dates from 1587, there was probably a fort in the site before that.
This is a super place for a castle.
It fires the imagination, times of picks, druids, pirates and vikings.
The name means Castle of Fountains, for there are two natural springs close by.
In the distance, up the Sound of Kerrera, Auburn is curled snugly in its perfect bay like a contented cat.
In the foreground is Horseshoe Bay of Royal Connections.
King Hicken of Norway sheltered his fleet in the bay prior to getting a hiding at his ill-fated battle at Largs.
Auburn harbour is home to the red funnel boats of the McBrain clan.
From here, the islands are your oyster. This town is the mecca for the waterways of the west coast.
You either love or hate the Cakes Folly, which hangs like a perforated halo over the town.
It's a miniature of the Coliseum of Rome.
Just north of Auburn is the 13th century Dunstavnich Castle.
At the mouth of Auburn harbour stands the Nolly Castle. Stulled and square, there was a fort in this site from way back.
It was always a stronghold of the McDougalls. Indeed, it is still owned by them, and there are records going back to 679.
The annual Auburn Highland Games is a fun event, though some of the competitors take it seriously.
Yes, yes, yes!
Yes, yes, yes!
Durk Castle stands guard to the sound of maul.
On the other side of the sound stands another castle called Ard Tornish.
It's in need of a facelift.
Sir Walter Scott used it for his opening lines of Lord of the Isles.
Nearby, from the top of these cliffs, people condemned to death at Ard Tornish were hurled
to the rocks below.
This waterfall is known as one of the Morvan Witches.
Zigzagging up the sound of maul, we come to Ardus Castle, also part of the McDougall Early
Warning Network.
Fire or smoke signals which gave the urban people plenty of time to prepare for visits
from Vikings and other hoodlums.
Now back across on the mainland side of the sound, we reach another castle, Castle Mancon,
Castle of the Dogs.
Across the way is Tobermory, maul's principal town and a next port of coal.
This is a haven for the world's yachts and tourists.
Houses rejoice in psychedelic colors and there's a laid back feel to the place, as if it's
on a long vacation.
Beneath the waters and the mud of the bay rests the Spanish galleon.
An American fife and drum band on a busman's holiday to Tobermory.
Welcome to Tobermory!
We take the road west from Tobermory to Derby.
Derby is a cute place.
At Gryllyn is the mausoleum for General Macquarie, the first governor of New South Wales. He was
known as the father of Australia. The chief of the Macquarie's of Ulva had the rights of the first
night with any Ulva bride. However, they were known to forgo this privilege for the gift of
a sheep. One can't but cast doubts on their morals. Mull is a peaceful island, legs stretching enough
not to feel claustrophobic, yet small enough to have a very personal quality.
Last century here at Grybyn, a boulder landed in a small cottage flattening a bride and groom on
their wedding night. They are still beneath it. The thriving post office at Loch Buoy on the south
coast of Mull. The road ends here. There's not a great deal to see at Loch Buoy except mind-blowing
scenery and, of course, the 12th century moor castle. There was a fort on this crannog of
Loch Skrybyn belonging to Ewan of the Little Head. During the 16th century, Ewan engaged in a battle
with his father, Ian the Toothless. Ewan lost both the battle and his small head. There are
tales of a ghostly headless horseman riding through Glenmoor at night.
We now edge westwards along the Ross of Mull, a windswept rugged seascape beaten by the
Atlantic gales. There are no roads and the cliffs are almost 800 feet high. In this blissful back
of beyond, we find the Karseg arches like a beached sea monster. We descend to more gentle
bucket and spade country. The bays are gems of the ocean and here at Ered, Robert Louis
Stevenson spent part of his childhood. This may have been inspiration for his treasure island.
Ahead of us is Iona, a cradle of Christianity. The ferry to Iona has been used by both the living
and the dead from the 6th century. Iona has been a holy place since time immemorial. On Iona,
the nunnery of St. Mary's is a stunning place. Along the street of the dead is Iona Cathedral.
As well as being St. Columba's HQ, it was an inn place for burial and kings and chiefs lie
here, including Macbeth and Duncan. Many of the monks were massacred by the Viking invaders.
Just to the north of Iona is an equally fab island, Staffa, promoted by Mendelssohn,
who came here in 1829 and later wrote his Hebrides Overture. Staffa is Norse for stave,
for the Vikings built their houses of tree trunks set vertically, similar to these basaltic columns.
Fingal was a 3rd century Irish hearer called Fian McCool, a nickname Fingal by the Scots.
He was anti-Viking, a goodie in other words.
To the north-west of Staffa lie the Tresnitz Isles. The most distinctive is the Dutchman's Cap.
This is an Atlantic paradise, certainly for the birds.
To end our journey, we go to the Gulf of Correbrechken, the world's second largest whirlpool.
It lurks between the islands of Jura and Scarborough. To be honest, it's not a whirlpool at all,
but a powerful tide race with the action of a gargantuan washing machine. Here you see it at
slack water, but at full throttle, it's an awesome sight with overfalls 25 feet high.
During a spring flood in westerly gale, the roar can be heard five miles away.
The ebbing and the flowing, powerfully rolling, soothing undulation, increasing violation.
Wild, untameable, all-powerful, invincible, strong, beautiful, valuable.
Wild, untameable, shimmering and shining, tumbling and climbing, vectoring and gleaming.
Sometimes I think I'm dreaming. Wild, untameable, all-powerful, invincible, strong, beautiful,
beautiful, all-powerful, invincible, all-powerful, all-powerful, all-powerful, all-powerful, all-powerful.
The rising and the falling, the sea to me
is calling. Feel the cadence of the ocean, controlling my emotions.
Wild, untameable, all-powerful, invincible, strong, beautiful, valuable.
Wild, untameable, all-powerful, invincible, strong, beautiful, all-powerful, all-powerful,
invincible, all-powerful, all-powerful, invincible, all-powerful, all-powerful, all-powerful,
invincible, all-powerful, invincible, all-powerful.