- Dan, where are we now? - Three miles from the Pole.
- We'll be there in one minute. - How easy will it be to land?
We're looking for some ice that's long enough, strong enough.
- What are the chances of getting down? - Pretty good.
- By the Pole? - Yeah, probably right at the Pole.
The first problem is where to plant your pole.
The North Pole is on a moving sea of ice,
so where the Pole is now may not be where it is in an hour's time.
That's why, as the Americans might say, "0nce you've got it, flaunt it."
This is it. I'm standing on the top of the world at the North Pole
where the time is, well, the time's anything you want it to be here!
The temperature's minus 25 degrees centigrade, so I won't hang around.
I'm making a journey from here to the South Pole,
which is in every direction.
If I went that way I'd go through Japan.
If I went that way I'd go through India.
But we've chosen a route that way - 30 degrees east line of longitude
down through Russia and Africa.
It's gonna be a hell of a long journey, but er... let's go!
I hadn't expected things to be such a rush.
The pilot won't turn his engines off in the cold.
I'd like to write postcards but he wants to be off while we still have fuel left.
And you don't argue with the pilot. Not at the North Polel
The plane we're in was designed in the 1950s.
0ur lives depend on it.
There are no airstrips, no control towers, no emergency vehicles below us.
There is rapidly changing weather, intense cold and miles of frozen ocean.
And this is just the beginning.
We chose the 30 degree east line of longitude because it covers the most land,
running through the great cities of St Petersburg, Istanbul and Cairo.
We'll travel down the Nile, to Khartoum, Lake Tanganyika and Cape Town.
From one extreme of the earth to the other.
Even if everything works, we have almost half a year's travelling ahead of us.
After 13 hours flying over the Arctic 0cean,
the sight of the settlement of Ny Aalesund on the island of Spitzbergen is a relief.
Many Arctic expeditions began here, and some, like Amundsen's last flight,
never returned.
We ourselves touch down with only minutes' worth of fuel left.
We may not have run out of fuel, but we have run out of good weather.
There's nothing to do but wait, and waiting is what the Arctic is all about.
It's two days before the blizzards let up.
We've made it an unwritten rule not to use air transport if there's any alternative.
The only alternative out of here is by the modern version of dogs and sledges -
snowmobiles and sledges.
It's an unusual journey and, as one of our Norwegian guides explains,
it demands unusual precautions.
We have to carry guns in case the polar bears are hungry.
How many polar bears are there on these islands?
Approximately six, seven thousand. That's the last estimate I heard.
If we don't get to a hut or to safety of any kind
and we have to stop on the glacier, do you have emergency rations and tents?
Yes. Nothing elaborate, but enough to keep us alive for two or three days.
There are no passengers on this journey.
We shall all have to master the art of snowmobile driving - even mel
South Pole, here we come!
Arctic weather stations can tell you how big the ozone hole will be in five years,
but strangely little about what will happen in the next five hoursl
At the first pass, the snow sweeps in again and suddenly you can't see a thing.
The "Boys' 0wn" fun of snowmobile driving becomes something much more serious.
Mind you, there are times when I'd almost prefer not to see where I'm going!
Conditions change so quickly,
it's essential never to lose sight of the vehicle in front.
Sometimes, I admit, my concentration wavers.
I blame Spitzbergen. It is stunningly beautiful.
We drive on through the night, though at this time of year, the sun never sets.
At three in the morning, we glimpse the first sign of human habitation
since leaving Ny Aalesund.
It's a trapper's hut standing on the shores of a frozen fjord.
The garden furniture's a bit grim.
A rack full of dead seals, meat for the trapper's dogs.
It is, thanks to the owner's generosity, our hotel for the night.
0utside bathroom, of course.
0ur host, Harald Solheim, looks more like a rabbi than a trapper,
and he's lived here, on his own, for 15 years.
It's a very lonely life, isn't it?
Why do you choose a life like this?
In the beginning it was some sort of adventure about the whole thing.
But it's not that any more. It's just a way of living.
But the idea of a trapper now is very unfashionable.
Environmentally the idea of people hunting animals is much criticised.
- How do you react to that? - It's OK if they are vegetarians.
Then they could blame the hunters. That I can understand.
But people that are going into shops and buying meat...
As far as I know, every meat comes from living animals
and you have to kill them before you eat them!
If you were a vegetarian, how would you survive here?
Very badly, I'm afraid!
You have most comforts here, but is there any one thing that you miss?
Sometimes one could miss different things.
Especially it could be pleasant to have some women companions sometimes.
You're an ordinary man and you feel some needs now and then, but...
I think I would prefer to stay alone.
As our revving engines shatter the tranquillity of an Arctic morning,
I can see his point.
We wave goodbye and hurtle on our way south to goodness knows what problems,
leaving Harald's remote kingdom surrounded once again by the comfort of silence.
Three quarters of Spitzbergen is permanently covered with ice.
There are no trees on the island.
The port of Longyearbyen, which we reach in two days,
is still 600 miles from mainland Europe.
It's frozen in for most of the year.
Even in early summer, only one ship is strong enough to take us safely through the ice,
the MVNorsel.
She may not look the part of an Arctic Rambo,
but she knows these waters well.
She's been a scallop fisher, a seal catcher,
and now as a supply vessel she's become an Arctic lifeline.
Progress through the ice is painfully slow.
0n the inflatable globe which has been round the world with me,
we're hardly clear of the bit where you blow it upl
There isn't much to do except walking and skating,
which tend to be the same thing anywayl
There's iceberg spotting, but I haven't got my book with mel
So it's more Arctic waiting.
0n our third day at sea, the pack ice at last begins to clear.
Surging to our full speed of ten knots, we set course for the heart of the Barents Sea.
Captain Biolgerud can at last set about the work he's here for.
They call this sea the Devil's Dance Floor.
My stomach is doing a few early steps as we reach the fishing grounds.
The Norwegian coastguard is out in force.
- (PALIN) Is that an aeroplane there? - Yeah, that's the Orion.
That's the Norwegian coastguard too.
What's happening? Some big event? Ships.
He's looking for... He's controlling the fishing fleet
and giving information to the coastguard vessel.
He's also observing if there is any oil spill on the sea.
- Environmental reasons. - She's coming very low.
- Yeah. - I never seen her so low before.
The Norsel has a contract to refuel more than a dozen ships,
largest of which is the Jan Mayen.
She's a state-of-the-art fishing vessel so proud of her facilities
that I've been invited on board to watch her work.
My transfer is complicated, involving a survival suit, a lynching party
and a loss of dignity.
This is supposed to save my life if I plunge into the sea.
Hold on tight.
- Do I just jump? - Don't be afraid.
Afraid? Me? I know no fear.
Whoa! Here we go. Barents Sea, here I come.
Whoo-hoo!
Television presenters - Britain's newest exportl
It's snowing again as the Jan Mayen pulls in her nets.
At first glance, the catch appears to consist entirely of citrus fruitl
A crew of 40 who spend two to three months at a time in these waters
is waiting to process the catch.
The ship's factory is capable of getting the goods from net to freeze pack in two hours.
The end result of five hours' trawling
looks like a half-empty Christmas stocking!
No mighty denizens of the deep in here.
Mostly shrimps, three tons of them.
I've an uncomfortable feeling that's all there is left down there.
It's not a pretty sight, and I'm quite relieved when the Norsel comes back to collect us.
With the last refuelling completed, we head south,
and life on board resumes its pattern of major events.
Doing the washing.
Boiling the free shrimps we've been given
for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
0n the seventh day out of Spitzbergen, we reach the craggy rim of northern Norway.
Maybe it's just because the sun's out,
but I feel the onset of what my children call "one of Dad's happy attacks"
and what I call sheer relief that a little bit of the worst is safely over.
Sunday morning in Tromso, the world's most northerly city.
It nestles in the shelter of the mountains, neat as Legoland.
The striking design of its Arctic cathedral reflects prosperity and careful taste.
Modern, but not too modern.
(CONGREGATION SINGS HYMN)
But behind the facade of respectable conformity
lies the proud and unpredictable spirit of Tromso's maritime traditions.
0nce thanks have been given, pleasure is taken.
They even call the city the Paris of the north.
I repair to the nearest boulevard café.
(ANIMATED CHATTER)
- (PALIN) This is brewed here, is it? - Yes.
- This is the famous... - Muck.
That's how it's pronounced, but it's spelt Mack, isn't it?
- Muck. - Is it strong?
(SEVERAL PEOPLE TALK AT ONCE)
It's very clean water. That's why it's famous.
- Arctic water? - That's right. From ice cubes.
You say it's a very sunny city.
It's sunny now, but I know the sun disappears totally for part of the year.
The sun leaves us 21st of November
and comes back 21st of January.
That must have an effect.
- How do you know if it's 3pm or 3am? - We look at our watch!
Yeah! It's OK if you've got those clever watches that say 1500!
If you see people and they're drunk, it's three at night!
Emboldened by Mack, I visit a hero with whom I now have something in common.
There can't be many who have left Tromso for the South Pole.
(HORN)
But Amundsen and I are not alone for long.
Visiting supporters. Big football match tonight. Trondheim v Tromso.
These people have now got to try and remain sober for the next eight hours.
Seems unlikely.
(DRUNKEN SHOUTING)
What is this? This is Trondheim supporters' beer.
Is this alcohol-free?
- Is this low-alcohol? - No, it's er... It's er...
Got a strong head on it. So tonight is a big game?
Oh, yes, sir!
Where is your team in the division?
- Oh, "s***"! - You seem a bit unsure about this!
Maybe one day they'll play Sheffield Wednesday.
- Rosenborg! Rosenborg! - Rosenborg! Rosenborg!
Anyway, good luck!
Good luck! As I'm in Tromso, I hope Tromso win.
Good luck. If you want anyone at half-time, I'm your substitute!
(THEY SING AS CASSETTE PLAYS "ROSENBORGSANGEN")
An abrupt change in the weather reminds me the Paris of the north
is 200 miles above the Arctic Circle.
This is not a riverboat on the Seine, but the Hurtigruten,
one of the least hospitable passenger routes in Europe.
"Hurtigruten" means "rapid route".
It's like a marine bus service that runs past the islands and fjords
where no other form of transport can reach.
It carries everything. Letters, onions, television aerials, washbasins,
the more intrepid tourists and the people who live and work at the end of Europe.
You very... What you call it? Busy man.
- I'm a busy man. - Yes. You come with me and relax.
- What? Where would I relax with you? - With me in a lighthouse.
- In a lighthouse? - Yes.
And you only relax with me.
- What about them? - You go fishing, cook your fishing.
The weather is like this? Cold? I'll freeze.
What would I do? I don't like fishing.
- Only fishing. - I don't like fishing.
- Sleeping. - Sleeping's OK.
- You a good cook? - Yeah.
- You have time to cook. - Come with me.
- Me? - Taste it. Only you.
- Send it home. - I'll send them home.
It's not as easy as that because we've got 100 days to go.
We'll have to negotiate. Do you like people? Being with other people?
- Only me and my friend. - Only you and your friend.
- Are you allowed to drink in the lighthouse? - No.
- So 28 days, no drink. - Yeah.
- Is that hard? - Cut it!
No, it's not hard.
- "Cut it!" Very good! You're a professional! - I could be!
I accuse you of having done a series at the very least.
- You're a pro! - My boss say, "No drinking!"
Is there a piece of music you'd like us to play?
- Music? - Any music you'd like?
- Larry Finnegan. - We'll play it. What?
Larry Finnegan. Country music.
We'll play some Larry Finnegan over this interview so you won't be heard.
# Good morning, pillow
# What kind of night has it been?
# Why are you so cold
# 0h, have I been crying again? #
The clouds sink lower and the weather becomes increasingly lugubrious as night falls.
Well, as night should have fallen.
In the land of the midnight sun, dawn and midnight are indistinguishable,
as is much of the scenery.
# I see that I was wrong Good morning, tears... #
Still, I could have bought the ship's poster.
Ah, so that's what a fjord looks like!
We dock next the morning at Hammerfest.
If Tromso is the world's most northerly city, Hammerfest is the world's most northerly town.
What it does have over Tromso is road access to central Scandinavia.
Waiting for me with a hired car is Troels Muller.
(PALIN) Let's go!
- So, where to first, Troels? - First Hammerfest, then Karasjok.
- To Lapland? - To Lapland.
(BELL RINGS)
Oh, sorry! Wrong side of the road!
Having delivered us safely to Hammerfest, the Hurtigruten continues north.
From this remote town,
whose first settlers got 20-year tax exemptions to get them to stay,
we head south across treeless tundra.
So, Troels, is there anything I ought to know about driving in Norway?
You haven't been drinking lately?
Drinking? Me, drinking? You should know better!
Well, not this morning, but it's only 11 o'clock!
- Is that a serious problem? - It's very serious in Norway.
Is that any alcohol at all?
No, you can have 0.5 per ml alcohol.
- That is about a glass of beer? - Yes, a little bit more.
You risk then to be put into prison for three weeks.
- Into prison for the first offence? - And there is no appeal.
There's a fine and you lose your permit for one year. Your licence.
All three things together.
Not being rude, 'cause the beer's very good here, but Norwegians drink a lot.
So either the roads are empty or everyone's in prison!
Yes, in fact, for this offence there is a line-up.
- People are waiting... - Waiting time.
...about one or two years to do their three weeks!
Not wanting to jump any queues, I drive soberly along the dull, wet coast roads
and into the sunlit plateau of Lapland.
This idyllic landscape was laid waste by retreating German armies in World War II.
Even today, it's still very empty.
Karasjok has fewer than 5,000 inhabitants.
It does, however, have a large seasonal population.
Pwah! The mozzies here are the worst I have ever seen.
I was recommended to bring this silly hat, but there is a serious reason.
These are just all over the place.
Now, this works on the principle that... There we are.
Put it on like that.
The basic premise was that if I wear a hat like this,
the mosquitoes will think I'm a lamp post and not sting me.
The real killers are not the big mosquitoes but the small ones, and they'll get through.
So apart from not wanting to look like a lamp post for the rest of this,
I think more serious measures are needed.
This is the other thing I was given.
Eugh! It's called Repel.
It strips paint off plastic surfaces, tins and all that.
It's guaranteed to deter all forms of known life. Hermits prefer Repel!
Well, let's see.
That's how you use it!
Next day, I meet some Saamipeople, descendants of reindeer herdsmen.
They've moved with the times. No one paddles a canoe any more.
My guide's just come back from Beverly Hillsl
- Quite a bit of speed! - Yes. No mosquitoes!
We're travelling faster than they are!
Despite being frozen over for several months of the year,
the Karasjok River is the richest salmon river in Europe.
But its tributaries are even richer.
Like that? Is that it?
Yeah. Keep an eye for me, won't you?
Make sure I'm not losing fabulous untold wealth!
- Then you... Hey... - Yeah?
Sometimes like this so the gold goes to the bottom.
How's that going now?
- There can be diamonds also. - Diamonds?
- Yes. - I'll settle for that.
If we don't find gold, we'll settle for diamonds.
Not so fast!
If you're panning correctly, you won't see the gold before it ends.
- Gold is heavier than any other metals. - Right.
If you pan correctly, you'll see it in the end.
Has Petras found gold here?
(THEY SPEAK IN NORWEGIAN)
He says he won't tell you how much, but he has found it.
Silly question. I want to know if all this is worthwhile,
because I should be going to the South Pole.
This will help pay for the overheads. There's something there.
- Ah! - Yes, there is!
There really is!
I'll bring it up. There we are! Now, then.
- There. - That's gold.
- That really is quite satisfying. - Take a look over here.
- You can see a proof... - Put yours here.
A proof did it.
How long did it take Petras to pan well?
- Two years. - Two years.
It's beyond my wildest dreams!
I'll never have to work on television again. Not that I ever will!
Go away! Go away! Leave me here!
I don't need you any more!
In the end, I decided to put all my gold together and buy a bus ticket.
And so we reach our first international border, between Norway and Finland.
It's a tense moment. Will there have been a gold-smuggling alert?
Is this Interpol?
I needn't have worried. He didn't even want to see my passport.
Nothing's very different on the other side.
Finland, as an independent country, is a creation of the 20th century.
Like Norway, it's big and empty.
A population less than that of London in a country bigger than the whole of Britain.
But it's a step nearer our goal,
and I've always had a thing about Finland.
# Finland, Finland, Finland
# The country where I want to be
# Your mountains so lofty
# Your treetops so tall
# Finland, Finland, Finland
# Finland has it all
# You're so sadly neglected and often ignored
# A poor second to Belgium
# When going abroad
# Finland, Finland, Finland
# Finland has it all #
The Arctic Circle, 1,600 miles from the Pole,
where 24-hour daylight ends and 24-hour merchandising begins.
Even Father Christmas has stepped up productivity,
working on the hottest summer days.
Um... Santa Claus?
His army of elves sifts through the world's largest concentration of begging letters.
- Ho-ho! Hello! - Hello.
- Have a seat. It is Michael. - You speak English?
- How you've grown, my friend! - Psychic.
- It's a long time. - Everyone else thinks I've shrunk!
- How are you? - Very well, thank you.
- Nice to see you. - Are you the real Santa Claus?
I'm told you are, but how can I be sure?
Well, how should I... I'm sitting very strongly and fully here.
Is it something to do with being on the Arctic Circle?
This was a man with something to hide. He'd have to do better than that.
Michael, I get nearly 500,000 letters every year.
They come from about, if my memory's right, nearly 150 countries.
- Not just Europe and North America? - No, no, no.
One of the biggest countries is Japan. It's the biggest after Finland.
Nearly 100,000 letters from Japan.
I didn't think the Japanese believed in Santa Claus.
I answer all the letters that come. We do that in eight different languages.
- They're multilingual, the elves? - Yes.
- Do you go anywhere dangerous? - No.
- You stay out of the Middle East? - Yeah.
- Can I ask for something? - Of course.
- Will I get it? - There is always this question of being good.
- I check with my... - These people will vouch for me.
I'm a man of impeccable moral virtues. No? Some head-shaking there.
- Can I ask for a Christmas present? - Sure.
I'd like a one-way air ticket from the South Pole to London.
One-way air ticket. I'm sure that could be...
Or a lift on a reindeer.
That I can guarantee easily.
- Very nice... - My son would like a wok.
Well, thank you very much. See you at Selfridges!
And Harrods.
And John Lewis.
Army & Navy.
If Christmas shopping begins at the Arctic Circle, so does the railway.
We gratefully haul ourselves aboard an overnight express for Helsinki.
The first train of our journey offers many pleasures,
not the least of which is the chance to brush up on a little Finnish.
Thank you.
- And one baby beer. - Kiitos.
Kiitos. Oops. Kiitos.
- Kippis. - Kippis.
Kiitos is "thank you". I get the two words muddled up.
So tell me again.
- Thank you is kiitos. - Thank you is kiitos.
- Kiitos. - And "cheers" is kippis.
- Kippis. - Kippis. Get pissed!
- Get pissed. Kippis to you, too! - Then you say juomasi.
- Juomasi. - Juomasi.
I've learned three words of one of the most difficult languages in Europe.
Each verb has 16 cases. Some of these people are probably using the triple dativel
There's a full moon rising in the first night sky we've seen.
As I turn in, I sense a real feeling of progress.
Finnish railways are clocking off the miles and I lie back and think of...
Russia, Turkey, Egypt, Sudan,
Kenya, Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Cape Town...
I wake up to clear skies and warm sunshine in Helsinki, on the shores of the Baltic.
It's exactly a week since I left Tromso.
0ne in five Finns lives in and around the capital.
That's about a million people.
After the Arctic, it's a pleasant shock to be back where humans control the environment
rather than the other way round.
The Finnish economy is one of Europe's quiet successes.
Here they can have not only what they want, but the best of what they want.
The Finnish religion is "sow-na", or "sor-na", as I mispronounce it.
I experience the full ritual with two co-celebrants,
Neil Hardwick, an Englishman living in Finland, and Lasse Lehtinen, a writer.
It's essential to be naked in a sauna?
You'd be ridiculous with swimming trunks on.
They have no hang-ups about nakedness here.
(LASSE) I'll do you a big favour now.
- With friends, you beat each other. - It's not self-flagellation, then!
Oh, that's nice!
That's good.
I thought it was the twigs without the leaves. The leaves make it nicer.
Ooh, a blast of heat now!
- That's from the water... - What temperature is it?
- Ideally about 18 centigrade. - Do it for yourself.
- Do it for myself? Everywhere? - Everywhere.
- It's very nice on the face. - Aromatic smell.
- Most smells are aromatic! - Thanks for accusing me of tautology!
I always felt guilty about doing this, but now I've come out!
- How about a bit for you? - Please.
Say when. One thing a public school education fits you for! How's that?
- Fine, thank you! - It's a pleasant tingling sensation.
- (NEIL) We need to... - Don't try this at home!
...have a dip in the lake. - OK, a dip.
You first. I'll hold this here!
(PALIN) To the lake!
It's all very relaxed and North European.
Where else would I be skinny-dipping with two men I've just met?
Sauna is a great leveller. No one knows who you are when you're naked.
Well, they'll know that none of us is Kim Basinger!
- How long do you spend in here? - As long as you like.
- Can you swim? - It's nice to go through the ice.
You're only there half a minute. Or roll in the snow.
Once you've whacked yourself with vegetation,
going into the ice is just a blessed relief!
If the camera will turn off, we can get out.
You have those problems. I'd forgotten!
Don't miss next week's instalment of "Three Men In A Lake"!
0nly 50 miles of water separate the affluence of Helsinki
from the economic wasteland of the Soviet Union.
There's a feeling of leaving comforts behind as we leave Scandinavia
on an Estonian-registered ferry.
(SHIP'S HORN)
Compared to the ferries heading west, it's not busy.
Plenty of space to practise my Russian.
"The restaurant is to the left."
"Thank you."
(SPEAKS RUSSIAN)
Sasha.
(SPEAKS RUSSIAN)
I'm called Michael.
Tallinn is like a graveyard
with cranes waiting to unload ships that never arrive.
In the Middle Ages, this was one of the great Hanseatic trading ports,
as rich as any in Northern Europe.
Now the Soviet Union begins here and the present owners are not as welcoming.
Beyond the guards and the barriers lies one of Europe's best-kept secrets.
A perfectly preserved city centre,
making the golden age of Tallinn seem like yesterday.
(BELL TOLLS)
As I walk through the streets, what surprises me
is not the Estonians' resentment at sharing this with Moscow
but the subtlety and restraint with which they express their protest.
(SINGING IN DISTANCE)
(THEY SING IN ESTONIAN)
Estonians, a seemingly undemonstrative lot,
have traditionally preserved and celebrated their independence in song.
In the main square, the Johanson brothers maintain the tradition.
They sing in Estonian, a language most of the occupying Russians won't understand.
That was very nice. But what was it about?
That was a very old traditional Estonian song.
The tradition goes back perhaps for thousands of years.
It was a song about shipbuilding.
Building a miraculous ship. There were three brothers building a ship.
The youngest one maintains to do it from bones or birds, strange material.
It's a very strange ship.
For me, it's a ship where we can all go one day and sail away
with the whole company, perhaps the whole land.
Their ship was to sail away much earlier than anyone dreamed possible.
But this was the summer of 1991, when everyone was still a Soviet citizen.
We've steadily crossed Scandinavia toward our 30-degree meridian.
It's now only an eight-hour train journey from Tallinn.
My first chance to speak Russian can no longer be avoided.
In for a penny, in for a rouble.
(SPEAKS RUSSIAN)
(WOMAN REPLIES IN RUSSIAN)
As soon as they talk back, I'm lost! One way. (SPEAKS RUSSIAN)
I don't know what that means. Is it? Credit card?
No, cash. I mean roubles.
Credit card?!
It may look calm and tranquil out there, a lazy July day in Estonia,
but nothing in the Soviet Union is quite what it seems this summer.
Things are beginning to heat up.
How hot?
Let's see from my little travelling thermometer. Victorian thermometer.
It is 30, just over 30 degrees here. 31.
Makes you feel better, doesn't it? 80, just about 90.
We're only in the north. We haven't gone south yet!
Ee, bloody 'ell.
I'd like to go back to the Pole, please!