Great British Railway Journeys (2010) s04e13 Episode Script
Dufftown to Aviemore
In 1840, one man transformed travel In the British Isles.
His name was George Bradshaw, and his railway guides Inspired the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel, what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later, I'm making a series of journeys across the length and breadth of these Isles to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
At the halfway point, my Scottish journey has brought me to the Highlands.
Here in the rural county of Moray, small-scale industries based on high-quality local resources were transformed by the railways and are now brand names sought out by connoisseurs across the globe.
Today, I learn how Victorian whisky trains were raided by robbers.
- You think anyone's spotted us? - Don't think so.
I'll keep an eye out.
I traverse one of Scotland's most Impressive viaducts.
It really is a spectacular piece of architecture and engineering.
And I discover that life Isn't always sweet on a shortbread production line.
Stop the conveyor belt! I want to get off! Using my 1880s "Bradshaw's", this trip started In Stirling, passed through Perthshire, moved on to the granite city of Aberdeen and Is now taking me west to Banffshire, thence to the classic lochs of the Highlands, to finish at John o'Groats.
Today's leg begins In Dufftown, In northeastern Scotland, Indulges my sweet tooth In Aberlour, samples some luxury In Elgin and, via Inverness, ends In mountainous Avlemore.
My Bradshaw's has guided me onto these tracks which are carrying me towards Dufftown, of which my book says that, "It is situated on the River Spey at the foot of a range of hills, the principal and centre of which is Ben Rinnes.
" "A little further south lies Glenlivet.
" There's the clue.
I'm travelling on the most northerly heritage railway in Britain, the Keith and Dufftown, also known as the Whisky Line.
Although Its castle, Balvenie, dates back to the 13th century, Dufftown was founded only In 1817, when James Duff, 4th Earl of Fife, decided to create a new town, where, following the Napoleonic wars, local people could find work.
Dufftown attracted a cluster of distilleries for some of the most famous names In Scotch whisky.
And I'm meeting senior guide, Jennifer Proctor, at one of them, Glenfiddich, to find out why.
- Jennifer, hello.
- Hello, nice to meet you.
Good to see you.
What a stunning place.
Beautiful setting in the hills.
Why is it that great whisky is made here? Well, pretty much from what you can see.
The surrounding countryside supplies us with the barley we need for the malt.
It also gives us the water we need, the vital ingredients for making whisky.
Originally, this area was perfect, as well, because of the transport links, so there's a great deal of railways that could transport things that we didn't have here onto the site, but it also meant we could take the finished product of whisky off and eventually transport it all around Scotland.
- You're still making it today.
- Yes, we are.
In 1886, founder William Grant set out to fulfil a lifelong ambition of creating the best dram In the valley.
With the help of his seven sons and two daughters, William built his distillery In a single year.
Their hard work was rewarded on Christmas Day 1887, when the first drop of spirit flowed.
William named his distillery Glenfiddich, Gaelic for "valley of the deer".
What actually is distilling? Well, basically what we're trying to do is refine a beer-like liquid into a spirit that we can go on to put through the maturation process and eventually that will become whisky.
Malted barley, water and yeast are the Ingredients.
Scotch malt whisky Is produced from a natural chemical alteration of wort, a sugary liquid which Is fermented In vats, then distilled In copper stills and finally matured In wooden casks.
Would this be recognisable to a Victorian? Yes.
I mean, it's certainly larger in terms of its scale, but the process hasn't really changed a great deal over the years.
The railways, then.
What difference did they make? Essentially, all distilleries at that time pretty much had their own sidings and there were a lot more train lines, railway lines, put in specifically for transporting goods like whisky.
So, really, it was fundamental to the distilleries that these lines were put in place.
Was there any downside to having the railways? There were a few.
The most noticeable would have been the theft they found that happened from the trains themselves.
Distillers, they kind of accounted for a certain amount of loss, but the trains often were very slow and they would take a day or two to get from somewhere like Dufftown down to Glasgow, where the whisky was actually going to be going to.
During that time, a lot of it would be spent in very remote sidings, so they were unprotected.
It was very easy for people to go and siphon off a bit of whisky and take it home.
I see.
So they weren't taking a whole barrel, which would be quite challenging.
No, they were siphoning it off a cask, usually only a small amount, enough for themselves or maybe them and a friend.
It wasn't huge quantities people were taking.
I'm Intrigued by these Victorian whisky thefts and wonder whether Ian MacDonald, Glenfiddich's master cooper, can show me how It was done.
- Ian.
- Hello, Michael.
How are you doing? - Very well.
- Nice to meet you.
I don't think I've ever met a cooper before.
That's what you are, isn't it? Yes.
I'm what they term a master cooper.
I served a five-year apprenticeship to become a craftsman.
Ian, I'm thinking about my retirement, and I was thinking of turning to a little whisky theft in my old days, and I've been hearing a bit about it.
How would I set about it, then? We'll remove a hoop, we'll bore a hole and remove a bung and hopefully we can extract some of the good old whisky that way.
Great.
I can't wait.
Right.
OK, so what we'll do is just use a boring brace.
- Would you like to have a shot? - Yes, let me have a shot.
Put a wee bit of pressure on and twist it round at the same time.
That's it.
American oak is quite a hard oak, so you do need a really sharp bit.
- You think anyone's spotted us yet? - Don't think so.
I'll keep an eye out.
I can see the shavings of wood coming out.
Whoa, we're through.
This should create a vacuum.
Not too noisy.
Whoa, there she flows! - Here we go! Tilt her back.
- That is magnificent! You're spilling a bit, but it doesn't matter as long as we get our bottleful.
Are you paying? OK, up you go.
Right, what do we do now to cover our crime? Oh, no problem.
We'll just plug the hole so it won't spoil.
Look at that.
So we'll just replace the hoop.
That's it back on.
Never know.
It's as good as new, isn't it? Just as well you work for the forces of law and order! - I'll just give you a wee souvenir.
- Thank you.
Tastes all the better for being purloined.
Good.
Feeling both warm and mischievous, I'm proceeding by road to my next destination, the Speyside village of Aberlour.
Thomas Telford, the renowned civil engineer, designed Craigellachle Bridge, spanning the River Spey about two miles north.
But I'm In Aberlour for a different reason.
Bradshaw's tells me that at Craigellachie, "The rail system divides into two, one of which runs along Strathspey, the valley which gives its name to a highland dance, passing in its route the station of Aberlour.
" Well, the station no longer has any trains.
Nowadays, it's a café, feeding hungry Strathspey tourists taking a short break with shortbread.
In 1898, Joseph Walker, a baker with a passion for shortbread, borrowed £50 and opened a shop.
More than a century later, his shortbread, a blend of flour, butter, sugar and salt, Is sold In 80 countries and Its factory produces 500 million shortbreads a year.
Joseph's grandson Jim Is ajoint managing director.
Hello, Michael.
Welcome to Walker's, welcome.
Thank you very much.
The changing room second on your left and we'll get togged up to go into the factory.
Jim, Scotland really is enormously associated with shortbread, isn't it? Why do you think that is? Shortbread is one of those foods that is synonymous with Scotland.
Scots can readily claim to have invented shortbread and it's really always been part of Scotland, it's part of the heritage.
The distances here are huge, aren't they? Yes, indeed.
It seems a long way.
The ovens are 60 metres long.
Does the heat vary at different places in the oven? Yes, indeed.
The heat varies right through the oven, so we end up at the end with a nice flash of hotter temperature to make the shortbread a nice golden brown, because that's exactly how it should be.
- I'm going to introduce you to Pauline.
- Pauline, hello.
- Hello.
Pleased to meet you.
- Michael Portillo.
May I have gloves and then I can join in? Indeed, yes.
- Take two trays.
- Take two trays.
And then place three thistles in each of the compartments.
Two, three.
Two, three.
One, two, three.
This is like waltzing, isn't it? One, two, three.
We got an empty one there, whoa! Sometimes it's easier to do two at a time.
Oh, is it? Right.
What, left hand, right hand? - Yes.
Exactly.
- Let's try the double-handed approach.
- One, two - Do it simultaneously.
Three.
One, two three.
They go past pretty fast, don't they? They do, really.
You'll be a natural.
This is a merciless process! Stop the conveyor belt! I want to get off! Shortbread has been attributed to Mary, Queen of Scots, who, In the mid-16th century, was said to be very fond of petticoat tails, a thin, crisp, buttery shortbread originally flavoured with caraway seeds.
My next task Is to feed 21st-century shortbread Into Its wrapping machine.
The two-handed technique.
They're coming pretty fast and furious at the moment.
Get in there! Get in there! Get in there! Got to keep your wits about you, haven't you? You've got to be one step ahead the whole time.
I'm going to have to leave a gap there.
I missed a few there.
It's like the nightmare in The Sorcerer's Apprentice, where you unleash forces that you cannot control and they descend relentlessly upon you.
The demands of mechanisation cannot be assuaged.
Is there anyone to take over? Phew, what a relief.
Thank you very much.
Hello.
Now this looks to me like the ultimate raw deal.
Got to be pretty nimble.
Ah! Thank you very much.
Oh, no! This is definitely the worst ordeal I've been set today.
This is Help! Somebody, help! Well, Jim, I really enjoyed that.
I've done a lot of factory visits.
I'm not trying to butter you up, but this one really took the biscuit.
That's what we're all about.
Thank you.
I've had a busy time learning about two of Scotland's finest Victorian products, and I'm hoping that at my final stop of the day, I can sample them both.
- Ah, good evening.
- Hi, there.
I see your pub's called The Mash Tun.
What does that mean? That's correct.
A mash tun is a large receptacle used in the whisky-making industry.
It's somewhere that they used to mix up all the ingredients, hence a good name for a pub.
I see that you stand behind the railway station.
Any connection with the railways? Yes.
This used to be the station refreshment rooms, initially, and then, obviously, once the railway station closed down in '65, it was then renamed The Mash Tun.
After the day that I've had, could I have a glass of your local malt whisky and a stick of shortbread, please? Certainly.
- Thank you.
- There we are.
Now, do not try this at home.
Ah! A rush of sugar, butter and alcohol.
Refreshed and ready for the day ahead, I'm continuing my journey by train from my nearest station, Kelth.
This small area of Scotland Is known as the golden triangle, because of the pure local water which allows companies to flourish despite their remote location.
Today, I'll visit another Industry that also benefited greatly from the arrival of the railways.
My first destination today is Elgin, which my Bradshaw's tells me is, "A borough five miles from the sea on the River Lossie.
" "It contains five chapels, a prison, a library, assembly rooms, literary and horticultural societies, breweries, gas and water works, woollen factory, grammar school and free school.
" Now, amongst those, I know that the woollen factory still exists, so no material change there.
Elgin was a favourite hunting ground of early Scottish monarchs.
With Its ancient cathedral and lying either side of the River Lossie, It grew steadily throughout the medieval period, until by the 17th century, It boasted fine buildings that reflected the prosperity of Its merchants.
When the railways arrived In the 1850s, business In the town boomed, and firms like cloth manufacturers Johnstons of Elgin blossomed.
James Sugden Is the director.
James, hello.
- Good morning.
- Michael.
Good to see you.
You're lost in your archives, I see, which is not surprising because your company goes all the way back to 1797.
Why was it that the woollen industry took off in this particular place, quite a remote place? We had a local supply of fibre from our sheep and we had, also, that very important ingredient, water.
Soft Scottish water.
During the 19th century, what were the developments in the business? James Johnston made tweed for the local market.
As time went on, he moved into finer fibres and with the advent of Queen Victoria, we moved into design fabrics, particularly tartans and then the local estate tweeds.
Because Queen Victoria actually rescues the tartan from being a kind of banned thing to being a fashion item in a short period of time.
Yes, she made it very fashionable, and we produced a lot of tartan and still do, but the other thing that her advent to this district brought was this estate tweed business, making bespoke designed fabrics for the upper class.
This is what the servants wore indoors, but what they wore on the moors, as well.
The ghillies, the keepers, the stalkers, they wanted camouflage, but then they also wanted fabrics that were distinctive and so, often, the wives of the laird would insist on little quirky over-checks and colourings that were perhaps not just camouflage, but their own idiosyncratic designs.
When did you get your railway station here? 1852, and that's when our export business really took off.
I think in the next 40 years, our turnover went up by eight times and it was all based on the export business, but export in those days could have been considered London.
And does that impact of the railways show up in your archives? This was 1859, and here's a customer in London still in existence, A Gagniere & Company, who are cloth merchants, and there's a lovely entry here which says "by rail all the way".
So that cloth came off the mill here, was taken to Elgin Station and went all the way to London, probably within a couple of days.
- 18? - 1859.
1859.
Great.
James Johnston seized the opportunities afforded by the railway and also expanded his business by negotiating a supply of a fine thread first made popular In Europe some years earlier by Napoleon Bonaparte.
What's this book showing us? This ledger here shows us the first purchase of cashmere fibre Ah! which was really James Johnston's first venture into exotic, soft-handling fibres and this was in 1850 from a company called A Buxton in London.
And cashmere, this is a goat? It's a goat, largely bred in Mongolia.
It's the soft underfleece of the animal, so when the fleece comes off the animal, 50%, 60% is coarse hair and the down is what we extract to make what people know as cashmere today.
This is cashmere? That's pure cashmere from Mongolia which is our raw material today.
Most of our raw material comes from that area.
Hmm, it is very, very soft.
And is that the finest thing you do now? No, we do have one other fibre called vicuna, which I'll show you a sample of.
That's lovely soft stuff.
Is that more expensive than the cashmere? Yes, it's ten times the price of cashmere.
Ten times.
And cashmere's ten times the price of wool.
Lovely.
Your company clearly has an amazing history, but also a present and future and I'm going to go and look at your factory.
- Thank you so much.
- Thank you for coming, Michael.
As with many companies, Its success relies on the stability and loyalty of Its workforce.
Generations of the same families have trodden the floors of this factory.
They've taken raw fibre through every stage of the production process from design to weaving to dyeing to hand-crafted finishing.
Yarn manager, Mike Matheson, Is from such a famlly.
- Hello.
- Hello.
You have the most wonderful colours here.
Beautiful dyes.
Have you been in the business very long? Yes, I've worked here since I left school, since I was 16, served my apprenticeship here.
For 36 years I've been with Johnstons.
Congratulations.
Were you an Elgin man, born and bred? Yes, born and bred just up the road in the Bishopmill area of Elgin.
My family are all Elginners, come from Elgin.
Any of them in the business before you? Yes, my great-auntie was here in the '50s and then my mother, she started here in the '60s and I started here mid-'70s.
Will it go on through your family, do you think? Yes, my daughter, my younger daughter, she's 24 and she works in the dye house, so we're carrying on a sort of family tradition, of one of us being in Johnstons.
Well, let's hope it goes on for a long time yet.
Bye-bye, now.
I wonder whether, even In a state-of-the-art textile house, fine knitwear requires a human touch In Its design and Its finishing.
Marketing assistant, Kirsty Cunningham, should know.
During the 19th century, the company was having to adapt to new tastes and demands.
- Is it the same today? - Absolutely.
We're very fortunate to have such a big team of designers based here in Elgin, woven designers, and we also have a set of designers in our knitwear factory in Hawick and both teams work really hard to keep up with the fashions of today, but at the same time they're very fortunate, especially the designers here in Elgin, as they have the fantastic resource of an archive room where they can look through manuscripts or swatches of fabric that date back to the 1800s.
And when you are exporting, is it helpful not only that you're Scottish, but that it's a rural Scottish industry? I think definitely.
I think buyers today look for authenticity of product and I think we're very lucky in that our product is 100% made in Scotland and it has been for 215 years.
So in spite of all these fantastic machines that we have in the factory nowadays, Michael, one thing that is very special to Johnstons of Elgin is the teasel head.
- The teasel? - Yes.
Now, we use these teasels to raise the pile of the cashmere during the finishing process.
Now, you'll see there's very small little hooks on the end of the teasel.
And it's those hooks that lift up the pile of the fabric and create that lovely rippled effect.
If you look at this cashmere here, you'll notice there's almost a ripple.
- Yes.
- And a shine.
And that comes from the teasel.
- And you've found nothing better? - Nothing that will replace the teasel.
- Where do you get these things? - We buy these from Spain.
In the land of the Scottish thistle, you need the help of the Spanish teasel? Indeed.
Cutting It fine, I'm bound now for Inverness where I'll change trains.
I'm now directed south to the winter resort of Avlemore along one of the most picturesque lines In Scotland.
- Hello, I'm Michael.
- Pleased to meet you.
This main line from Inverness down to Edinburgh hadn't been built when my Bradshaw's was published and my guidebook gives me a clue as to why.
It says of Inverness-shire that, "The surface is, in general, extremely rugged and uneven, consisting of vast ranges of mountains separated from each other by narrow and deep valleys.
" So no wonder the railway was constructed so late and there's no better place to get an idea of the challenge presented to the railway engineer by this terrain than in the driver's cab.
I'm riding the famous Inverness-to-Avlemore direct line.
It was opened In the 1890s to cut journey times south from Inverness.
And with two major rivers to cross and a mountain pass of 1,315ft to conquer, building It was no mean feat.
Gordon, I can hear the train wearying as it goes up this steep gradient.
Do you ever think about what it must have been like for the engineers planning and building this line? I couldn't imagine the work that must have gone into this.
It's a beautiful line, I must say.
At the moment, we're not seeing snow, we're seeing some beautiful heather.
We're at the time of year to be seeing the heather coming out.
In winter, sometimes, it's like a toboggan run just made for the train, because the snow is cleared for the train, but on either side there's maybe three, four or five feet of snow.
This line really Is a railway connoisseur's delight, because just outside of Inverness, standing to the east of the famous Culloden battlefield, the longest masonry viaduct In Scotland, measuring 544 metres, spans the River Nairn.
This is a moment I've really been looking forward to.
The line is descending quite steeply towards the Culloden Viaduct and very often you don't get a good view of a viaduct when you're actually on it, but fortunately, as we approach it now, I can see it curving round to the right.
I'm getting a very good view of it and it really is a spectacular piece of architecture and engineering.
Built over five years, using local quarry stone and completed In 1898, like the rest of the line, the Culloden viaduct was engineered by Sir John Fowler and Murdoch Paterson.
I'm now headed to Avlemore to meet Anne Mary Paterson, who's written a biography of her great-granduncle.
- Hello, Anne Mary.
- Oh, hello.
Hello, good to see you.
So, here you are admiring your great-granduncle's railway line.
That's right, yes.
I came over that viaduct just now and it's a great structure.
What did he think of it? He thought it was his masterpiece, but by the time it was nearing completion, he was ill, because he was long past retiring age, in his early 70s, and he had been out in all weathers and so on without proper protective clothing.
Did he get to see the viaduct completed? No, he didn't see it completed.
He was staying in the station master's house at Culloden and he realised that he was never going to go on a train across it, so he asked the railwaymen if they would push him across on a bogie and he could look and see if everything was alright and give them orders about what should be done.
So they pushed him across and back again and then he went to the house and he just died shortly after.
You must be very proud of your ancestor.
Yes, I am.
That was why I decided that I was going to write about him.
Thank you, Anne Mary, very much.
Bye-bye.
Bye-bye.
Small towns in northern Scotland are home to major industries that grew rapidly once the railways reached them.
The worldwide fame that they've since acquired hasn't gone to their head.
They remain proudly Scottish, commercially independent, rooted in their historic communities and reliant on the skills of local people.
On the next leg of this journey, I ride a picturesque railway.
I have no words, I'm out of superlatives.
I visit Scotland's smallest station.
Nearly everyone has joined the queue to get off at the single door that opens at the incredibly short platform at Beauly.
And I go on a spa break, Victorian-style.
After you've been hosed down with warm salty water, your doctor will probably have prescribed you a glass of sulphurous water.
- And would I be cured? - You might well be.
His name was George Bradshaw, and his railway guides Inspired the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel, what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later, I'm making a series of journeys across the length and breadth of these Isles to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
At the halfway point, my Scottish journey has brought me to the Highlands.
Here in the rural county of Moray, small-scale industries based on high-quality local resources were transformed by the railways and are now brand names sought out by connoisseurs across the globe.
Today, I learn how Victorian whisky trains were raided by robbers.
- You think anyone's spotted us? - Don't think so.
I'll keep an eye out.
I traverse one of Scotland's most Impressive viaducts.
It really is a spectacular piece of architecture and engineering.
And I discover that life Isn't always sweet on a shortbread production line.
Stop the conveyor belt! I want to get off! Using my 1880s "Bradshaw's", this trip started In Stirling, passed through Perthshire, moved on to the granite city of Aberdeen and Is now taking me west to Banffshire, thence to the classic lochs of the Highlands, to finish at John o'Groats.
Today's leg begins In Dufftown, In northeastern Scotland, Indulges my sweet tooth In Aberlour, samples some luxury In Elgin and, via Inverness, ends In mountainous Avlemore.
My Bradshaw's has guided me onto these tracks which are carrying me towards Dufftown, of which my book says that, "It is situated on the River Spey at the foot of a range of hills, the principal and centre of which is Ben Rinnes.
" "A little further south lies Glenlivet.
" There's the clue.
I'm travelling on the most northerly heritage railway in Britain, the Keith and Dufftown, also known as the Whisky Line.
Although Its castle, Balvenie, dates back to the 13th century, Dufftown was founded only In 1817, when James Duff, 4th Earl of Fife, decided to create a new town, where, following the Napoleonic wars, local people could find work.
Dufftown attracted a cluster of distilleries for some of the most famous names In Scotch whisky.
And I'm meeting senior guide, Jennifer Proctor, at one of them, Glenfiddich, to find out why.
- Jennifer, hello.
- Hello, nice to meet you.
Good to see you.
What a stunning place.
Beautiful setting in the hills.
Why is it that great whisky is made here? Well, pretty much from what you can see.
The surrounding countryside supplies us with the barley we need for the malt.
It also gives us the water we need, the vital ingredients for making whisky.
Originally, this area was perfect, as well, because of the transport links, so there's a great deal of railways that could transport things that we didn't have here onto the site, but it also meant we could take the finished product of whisky off and eventually transport it all around Scotland.
- You're still making it today.
- Yes, we are.
In 1886, founder William Grant set out to fulfil a lifelong ambition of creating the best dram In the valley.
With the help of his seven sons and two daughters, William built his distillery In a single year.
Their hard work was rewarded on Christmas Day 1887, when the first drop of spirit flowed.
William named his distillery Glenfiddich, Gaelic for "valley of the deer".
What actually is distilling? Well, basically what we're trying to do is refine a beer-like liquid into a spirit that we can go on to put through the maturation process and eventually that will become whisky.
Malted barley, water and yeast are the Ingredients.
Scotch malt whisky Is produced from a natural chemical alteration of wort, a sugary liquid which Is fermented In vats, then distilled In copper stills and finally matured In wooden casks.
Would this be recognisable to a Victorian? Yes.
I mean, it's certainly larger in terms of its scale, but the process hasn't really changed a great deal over the years.
The railways, then.
What difference did they make? Essentially, all distilleries at that time pretty much had their own sidings and there were a lot more train lines, railway lines, put in specifically for transporting goods like whisky.
So, really, it was fundamental to the distilleries that these lines were put in place.
Was there any downside to having the railways? There were a few.
The most noticeable would have been the theft they found that happened from the trains themselves.
Distillers, they kind of accounted for a certain amount of loss, but the trains often were very slow and they would take a day or two to get from somewhere like Dufftown down to Glasgow, where the whisky was actually going to be going to.
During that time, a lot of it would be spent in very remote sidings, so they were unprotected.
It was very easy for people to go and siphon off a bit of whisky and take it home.
I see.
So they weren't taking a whole barrel, which would be quite challenging.
No, they were siphoning it off a cask, usually only a small amount, enough for themselves or maybe them and a friend.
It wasn't huge quantities people were taking.
I'm Intrigued by these Victorian whisky thefts and wonder whether Ian MacDonald, Glenfiddich's master cooper, can show me how It was done.
- Ian.
- Hello, Michael.
How are you doing? - Very well.
- Nice to meet you.
I don't think I've ever met a cooper before.
That's what you are, isn't it? Yes.
I'm what they term a master cooper.
I served a five-year apprenticeship to become a craftsman.
Ian, I'm thinking about my retirement, and I was thinking of turning to a little whisky theft in my old days, and I've been hearing a bit about it.
How would I set about it, then? We'll remove a hoop, we'll bore a hole and remove a bung and hopefully we can extract some of the good old whisky that way.
Great.
I can't wait.
Right.
OK, so what we'll do is just use a boring brace.
- Would you like to have a shot? - Yes, let me have a shot.
Put a wee bit of pressure on and twist it round at the same time.
That's it.
American oak is quite a hard oak, so you do need a really sharp bit.
- You think anyone's spotted us yet? - Don't think so.
I'll keep an eye out.
I can see the shavings of wood coming out.
Whoa, we're through.
This should create a vacuum.
Not too noisy.
Whoa, there she flows! - Here we go! Tilt her back.
- That is magnificent! You're spilling a bit, but it doesn't matter as long as we get our bottleful.
Are you paying? OK, up you go.
Right, what do we do now to cover our crime? Oh, no problem.
We'll just plug the hole so it won't spoil.
Look at that.
So we'll just replace the hoop.
That's it back on.
Never know.
It's as good as new, isn't it? Just as well you work for the forces of law and order! - I'll just give you a wee souvenir.
- Thank you.
Tastes all the better for being purloined.
Good.
Feeling both warm and mischievous, I'm proceeding by road to my next destination, the Speyside village of Aberlour.
Thomas Telford, the renowned civil engineer, designed Craigellachle Bridge, spanning the River Spey about two miles north.
But I'm In Aberlour for a different reason.
Bradshaw's tells me that at Craigellachie, "The rail system divides into two, one of which runs along Strathspey, the valley which gives its name to a highland dance, passing in its route the station of Aberlour.
" Well, the station no longer has any trains.
Nowadays, it's a café, feeding hungry Strathspey tourists taking a short break with shortbread.
In 1898, Joseph Walker, a baker with a passion for shortbread, borrowed £50 and opened a shop.
More than a century later, his shortbread, a blend of flour, butter, sugar and salt, Is sold In 80 countries and Its factory produces 500 million shortbreads a year.
Joseph's grandson Jim Is ajoint managing director.
Hello, Michael.
Welcome to Walker's, welcome.
Thank you very much.
The changing room second on your left and we'll get togged up to go into the factory.
Jim, Scotland really is enormously associated with shortbread, isn't it? Why do you think that is? Shortbread is one of those foods that is synonymous with Scotland.
Scots can readily claim to have invented shortbread and it's really always been part of Scotland, it's part of the heritage.
The distances here are huge, aren't they? Yes, indeed.
It seems a long way.
The ovens are 60 metres long.
Does the heat vary at different places in the oven? Yes, indeed.
The heat varies right through the oven, so we end up at the end with a nice flash of hotter temperature to make the shortbread a nice golden brown, because that's exactly how it should be.
- I'm going to introduce you to Pauline.
- Pauline, hello.
- Hello.
Pleased to meet you.
- Michael Portillo.
May I have gloves and then I can join in? Indeed, yes.
- Take two trays.
- Take two trays.
And then place three thistles in each of the compartments.
Two, three.
Two, three.
One, two, three.
This is like waltzing, isn't it? One, two, three.
We got an empty one there, whoa! Sometimes it's easier to do two at a time.
Oh, is it? Right.
What, left hand, right hand? - Yes.
Exactly.
- Let's try the double-handed approach.
- One, two - Do it simultaneously.
Three.
One, two three.
They go past pretty fast, don't they? They do, really.
You'll be a natural.
This is a merciless process! Stop the conveyor belt! I want to get off! Shortbread has been attributed to Mary, Queen of Scots, who, In the mid-16th century, was said to be very fond of petticoat tails, a thin, crisp, buttery shortbread originally flavoured with caraway seeds.
My next task Is to feed 21st-century shortbread Into Its wrapping machine.
The two-handed technique.
They're coming pretty fast and furious at the moment.
Get in there! Get in there! Get in there! Got to keep your wits about you, haven't you? You've got to be one step ahead the whole time.
I'm going to have to leave a gap there.
I missed a few there.
It's like the nightmare in The Sorcerer's Apprentice, where you unleash forces that you cannot control and they descend relentlessly upon you.
The demands of mechanisation cannot be assuaged.
Is there anyone to take over? Phew, what a relief.
Thank you very much.
Hello.
Now this looks to me like the ultimate raw deal.
Got to be pretty nimble.
Ah! Thank you very much.
Oh, no! This is definitely the worst ordeal I've been set today.
This is Help! Somebody, help! Well, Jim, I really enjoyed that.
I've done a lot of factory visits.
I'm not trying to butter you up, but this one really took the biscuit.
That's what we're all about.
Thank you.
I've had a busy time learning about two of Scotland's finest Victorian products, and I'm hoping that at my final stop of the day, I can sample them both.
- Ah, good evening.
- Hi, there.
I see your pub's called The Mash Tun.
What does that mean? That's correct.
A mash tun is a large receptacle used in the whisky-making industry.
It's somewhere that they used to mix up all the ingredients, hence a good name for a pub.
I see that you stand behind the railway station.
Any connection with the railways? Yes.
This used to be the station refreshment rooms, initially, and then, obviously, once the railway station closed down in '65, it was then renamed The Mash Tun.
After the day that I've had, could I have a glass of your local malt whisky and a stick of shortbread, please? Certainly.
- Thank you.
- There we are.
Now, do not try this at home.
Ah! A rush of sugar, butter and alcohol.
Refreshed and ready for the day ahead, I'm continuing my journey by train from my nearest station, Kelth.
This small area of Scotland Is known as the golden triangle, because of the pure local water which allows companies to flourish despite their remote location.
Today, I'll visit another Industry that also benefited greatly from the arrival of the railways.
My first destination today is Elgin, which my Bradshaw's tells me is, "A borough five miles from the sea on the River Lossie.
" "It contains five chapels, a prison, a library, assembly rooms, literary and horticultural societies, breweries, gas and water works, woollen factory, grammar school and free school.
" Now, amongst those, I know that the woollen factory still exists, so no material change there.
Elgin was a favourite hunting ground of early Scottish monarchs.
With Its ancient cathedral and lying either side of the River Lossie, It grew steadily throughout the medieval period, until by the 17th century, It boasted fine buildings that reflected the prosperity of Its merchants.
When the railways arrived In the 1850s, business In the town boomed, and firms like cloth manufacturers Johnstons of Elgin blossomed.
James Sugden Is the director.
James, hello.
- Good morning.
- Michael.
Good to see you.
You're lost in your archives, I see, which is not surprising because your company goes all the way back to 1797.
Why was it that the woollen industry took off in this particular place, quite a remote place? We had a local supply of fibre from our sheep and we had, also, that very important ingredient, water.
Soft Scottish water.
During the 19th century, what were the developments in the business? James Johnston made tweed for the local market.
As time went on, he moved into finer fibres and with the advent of Queen Victoria, we moved into design fabrics, particularly tartans and then the local estate tweeds.
Because Queen Victoria actually rescues the tartan from being a kind of banned thing to being a fashion item in a short period of time.
Yes, she made it very fashionable, and we produced a lot of tartan and still do, but the other thing that her advent to this district brought was this estate tweed business, making bespoke designed fabrics for the upper class.
This is what the servants wore indoors, but what they wore on the moors, as well.
The ghillies, the keepers, the stalkers, they wanted camouflage, but then they also wanted fabrics that were distinctive and so, often, the wives of the laird would insist on little quirky over-checks and colourings that were perhaps not just camouflage, but their own idiosyncratic designs.
When did you get your railway station here? 1852, and that's when our export business really took off.
I think in the next 40 years, our turnover went up by eight times and it was all based on the export business, but export in those days could have been considered London.
And does that impact of the railways show up in your archives? This was 1859, and here's a customer in London still in existence, A Gagniere & Company, who are cloth merchants, and there's a lovely entry here which says "by rail all the way".
So that cloth came off the mill here, was taken to Elgin Station and went all the way to London, probably within a couple of days.
- 18? - 1859.
1859.
Great.
James Johnston seized the opportunities afforded by the railway and also expanded his business by negotiating a supply of a fine thread first made popular In Europe some years earlier by Napoleon Bonaparte.
What's this book showing us? This ledger here shows us the first purchase of cashmere fibre Ah! which was really James Johnston's first venture into exotic, soft-handling fibres and this was in 1850 from a company called A Buxton in London.
And cashmere, this is a goat? It's a goat, largely bred in Mongolia.
It's the soft underfleece of the animal, so when the fleece comes off the animal, 50%, 60% is coarse hair and the down is what we extract to make what people know as cashmere today.
This is cashmere? That's pure cashmere from Mongolia which is our raw material today.
Most of our raw material comes from that area.
Hmm, it is very, very soft.
And is that the finest thing you do now? No, we do have one other fibre called vicuna, which I'll show you a sample of.
That's lovely soft stuff.
Is that more expensive than the cashmere? Yes, it's ten times the price of cashmere.
Ten times.
And cashmere's ten times the price of wool.
Lovely.
Your company clearly has an amazing history, but also a present and future and I'm going to go and look at your factory.
- Thank you so much.
- Thank you for coming, Michael.
As with many companies, Its success relies on the stability and loyalty of Its workforce.
Generations of the same families have trodden the floors of this factory.
They've taken raw fibre through every stage of the production process from design to weaving to dyeing to hand-crafted finishing.
Yarn manager, Mike Matheson, Is from such a famlly.
- Hello.
- Hello.
You have the most wonderful colours here.
Beautiful dyes.
Have you been in the business very long? Yes, I've worked here since I left school, since I was 16, served my apprenticeship here.
For 36 years I've been with Johnstons.
Congratulations.
Were you an Elgin man, born and bred? Yes, born and bred just up the road in the Bishopmill area of Elgin.
My family are all Elginners, come from Elgin.
Any of them in the business before you? Yes, my great-auntie was here in the '50s and then my mother, she started here in the '60s and I started here mid-'70s.
Will it go on through your family, do you think? Yes, my daughter, my younger daughter, she's 24 and she works in the dye house, so we're carrying on a sort of family tradition, of one of us being in Johnstons.
Well, let's hope it goes on for a long time yet.
Bye-bye, now.
I wonder whether, even In a state-of-the-art textile house, fine knitwear requires a human touch In Its design and Its finishing.
Marketing assistant, Kirsty Cunningham, should know.
During the 19th century, the company was having to adapt to new tastes and demands.
- Is it the same today? - Absolutely.
We're very fortunate to have such a big team of designers based here in Elgin, woven designers, and we also have a set of designers in our knitwear factory in Hawick and both teams work really hard to keep up with the fashions of today, but at the same time they're very fortunate, especially the designers here in Elgin, as they have the fantastic resource of an archive room where they can look through manuscripts or swatches of fabric that date back to the 1800s.
And when you are exporting, is it helpful not only that you're Scottish, but that it's a rural Scottish industry? I think definitely.
I think buyers today look for authenticity of product and I think we're very lucky in that our product is 100% made in Scotland and it has been for 215 years.
So in spite of all these fantastic machines that we have in the factory nowadays, Michael, one thing that is very special to Johnstons of Elgin is the teasel head.
- The teasel? - Yes.
Now, we use these teasels to raise the pile of the cashmere during the finishing process.
Now, you'll see there's very small little hooks on the end of the teasel.
And it's those hooks that lift up the pile of the fabric and create that lovely rippled effect.
If you look at this cashmere here, you'll notice there's almost a ripple.
- Yes.
- And a shine.
And that comes from the teasel.
- And you've found nothing better? - Nothing that will replace the teasel.
- Where do you get these things? - We buy these from Spain.
In the land of the Scottish thistle, you need the help of the Spanish teasel? Indeed.
Cutting It fine, I'm bound now for Inverness where I'll change trains.
I'm now directed south to the winter resort of Avlemore along one of the most picturesque lines In Scotland.
- Hello, I'm Michael.
- Pleased to meet you.
This main line from Inverness down to Edinburgh hadn't been built when my Bradshaw's was published and my guidebook gives me a clue as to why.
It says of Inverness-shire that, "The surface is, in general, extremely rugged and uneven, consisting of vast ranges of mountains separated from each other by narrow and deep valleys.
" So no wonder the railway was constructed so late and there's no better place to get an idea of the challenge presented to the railway engineer by this terrain than in the driver's cab.
I'm riding the famous Inverness-to-Avlemore direct line.
It was opened In the 1890s to cut journey times south from Inverness.
And with two major rivers to cross and a mountain pass of 1,315ft to conquer, building It was no mean feat.
Gordon, I can hear the train wearying as it goes up this steep gradient.
Do you ever think about what it must have been like for the engineers planning and building this line? I couldn't imagine the work that must have gone into this.
It's a beautiful line, I must say.
At the moment, we're not seeing snow, we're seeing some beautiful heather.
We're at the time of year to be seeing the heather coming out.
In winter, sometimes, it's like a toboggan run just made for the train, because the snow is cleared for the train, but on either side there's maybe three, four or five feet of snow.
This line really Is a railway connoisseur's delight, because just outside of Inverness, standing to the east of the famous Culloden battlefield, the longest masonry viaduct In Scotland, measuring 544 metres, spans the River Nairn.
This is a moment I've really been looking forward to.
The line is descending quite steeply towards the Culloden Viaduct and very often you don't get a good view of a viaduct when you're actually on it, but fortunately, as we approach it now, I can see it curving round to the right.
I'm getting a very good view of it and it really is a spectacular piece of architecture and engineering.
Built over five years, using local quarry stone and completed In 1898, like the rest of the line, the Culloden viaduct was engineered by Sir John Fowler and Murdoch Paterson.
I'm now headed to Avlemore to meet Anne Mary Paterson, who's written a biography of her great-granduncle.
- Hello, Anne Mary.
- Oh, hello.
Hello, good to see you.
So, here you are admiring your great-granduncle's railway line.
That's right, yes.
I came over that viaduct just now and it's a great structure.
What did he think of it? He thought it was his masterpiece, but by the time it was nearing completion, he was ill, because he was long past retiring age, in his early 70s, and he had been out in all weathers and so on without proper protective clothing.
Did he get to see the viaduct completed? No, he didn't see it completed.
He was staying in the station master's house at Culloden and he realised that he was never going to go on a train across it, so he asked the railwaymen if they would push him across on a bogie and he could look and see if everything was alright and give them orders about what should be done.
So they pushed him across and back again and then he went to the house and he just died shortly after.
You must be very proud of your ancestor.
Yes, I am.
That was why I decided that I was going to write about him.
Thank you, Anne Mary, very much.
Bye-bye.
Bye-bye.
Small towns in northern Scotland are home to major industries that grew rapidly once the railways reached them.
The worldwide fame that they've since acquired hasn't gone to their head.
They remain proudly Scottish, commercially independent, rooted in their historic communities and reliant on the skills of local people.
On the next leg of this journey, I ride a picturesque railway.
I have no words, I'm out of superlatives.
I visit Scotland's smallest station.
Nearly everyone has joined the queue to get off at the single door that opens at the incredibly short platform at Beauly.
And I go on a spa break, Victorian-style.
After you've been hosed down with warm salty water, your doctor will probably have prescribed you a glass of sulphurous water.
- And would I be cured? - You might well be.