Glasgow The Hairy Bikers' Pubs That Built Britain

'Pubs have been at the heart of Britain for hundreds of years.'

Cheers, mucker.

'In city taverns and village inns,

'landlords have pulled pints for locals, travellers'

and, well, the odd king or two. Myself included.

Try and have a drink now.

GLASS CLINKS

But with 30 pubs closing every week, our historic taverns need defending.

Step. Step.

We're heading out to discover amazing stories linked to the

nation's watering holes.

-Not far to go?

-How far?

-Couple of miles.

-What?

-'From the Wars of the Roses.'

-To shipbuilding on the Clyde.

-We've ditched our bikes so that we can sample an ale or two.

-Get in!

-This is very good.

-THEY LAUGH

'So join us for...'

BOTH: The Hairy Bikers' Pubs That Built Britain.

'Today's historic pub crawl takes us to Glasgow

'and her illustrious shipbuilding past.'

Tens of thousands worked on Clydeside and after a hard

day's graft, the race was on for a well-earned pint down the boozer.

Boozers - where we hope to uncover fascinating stories

of Glasgow's glory days.

Welcome to Glasgow and the River Clyde - the launching

site of many famous ships such as the Queen Mary and the QE2.

What are you wearing that hat for?

This is the hat the foreman in the shipyard would wear.

If you were a welder, I would be your boss

-and I would stop you going out for a swally.

-A what?

-A swally.

It's Glaswegian for drink. And I'll be keeping an eye on you, laddie.

Glasgow's rise as a world leader in shipbuilding began 1812,

with Europe's first commercially successful steam-powered passenger ship.

And painful as it is to a Tynesider, 100 years later,

Clyde-built had become a byword for the best shipbuilding in the world.

In fact, some say the boys from the Clyde built the ships that

built the British Empire and won us two world wars.

Just imagine, mucker - nearly 40 yards employed 100,000 men,

all dying for a pint at the same time.

Our first port of call is Govan,

right in the heart of Glasgow's shipbuilding.

Here you go, mate. Brechins Bar.

One of the last shipyard pubs left on Govan Road.

You can just imagine it, can't you, Si?

The shipyard hooter goes and hundreds of men dash out,

wanting to be the first in the pub to get a pint.

Tell you what, you want to be the first at the bar, that's for sure.

-Race you.

-You toad.

This listed Scots baronial building dates back to 1894,

and on its facade - a cat, in memory of an infamous rat catcher that worked Govan's shipyard and docks.

Locals know Brechins as The Black Man after the statue

of this guy - Sir William Pearce.

In the 19th century, he turned nearby Fairfields shipyard into a world leader.

The yard survives today as part of BAE Systems.

-This is a cracking pub, isn't it? It's a proper pub.

-Isn't it?

'Shipyard historian Ian Johnson is giving us

'the lowdown on the golden age of Clyde's best boozers.

-'The pubs, that is.'

-Was the pub part of shipbuilding culture then, Ian?

Cos it seems to be.

It would be difficult to avoid a pub, because there was so many

of them outside the shipyards, so you couldn't really miss one.

And it was very much a part of where people

went at the end of a shift, at the end of a day.

They would come in because it was such difficult work. Very hard work.

In many cases, they would want to come and have a refreshment, to put it mildly.

Do you think the pubs were built to service the shipyards?

Most certainly. It was a roaring trade. They had a captive market.

In this part of Govan or Glasgow,

you had about 20,000 shipyard workers in the heyday.

That's a lot of people hanging out at the end of a shift.

-Lot of people.

-A lot of thirsty people, that is.

Which led to dozens of pubs springing up besides Brechins

along Govan Road.

Every one filled to the gunnels with riveters, platers and welders,

after a hard day's work in the noise and cold of the Clyde.

But women weren't encouraged, so your missus might come to the yard gates

on a Friday to stop you wasting your wages on the bevvy.

I think because it was such arduous work, such physical work -

and in all conditions - that you needed to come to the pub

-at the end of it to sort of let off a bit of steam.

-Yes.

To wet your whistle and discuss what you've done and whatever.

Dave comes from Barrow-in-Furness. I'm Newcastle. I'm on the Tyne.

-Yes, yes, yes.

-And there's always been a friendly rivalry

-between the shipbuilders on the Tyne and the Clyde.

-There was.

-Yes.

-And it was... You know...

To be fair, we taught you how to, you know, build ships, like.

Steady now. No. Listen, we told you guys a thing or two.

Your industry was set up by guys that came from the Clyde.

But in Barrow-in-Furness, you see, from 1870,

-cos we had the steel, we were ahead of all of you.

-Nah.

The end of the cul-de-sac. We conquered the world!

-No. Clyde was number one for a long, long time.

-It was.

When did shipbuilding on the Clyde start to decline?

From the late 1950s and early 1960s,

they start to become less competitive and this is because

of competition from the Far East and also from Europe,

because they're all employing superior methods

and better management-men relations.

So productivity starts to decline in British yards

and from then on, the industry's on a very, very rapid decline.

We might not have that many shipyards now in Govan

but we've still got a fine pub - the Brechins.

And I got here first so I should get them in.

-Get them in, mucker.

-Thought you'd never ask.

'I was beginning to wonder and all, mate.'

Brechins is still a favourite with former shipyard employees

but the days of a tidal wave of workers are long gone.

After years of post-war decline,

a unique attempt was made in 1971 to save the remaining yards.

The Upper Clyde shipyard workers, rather than strike,

staged a work-in, which led to the famous speech by the legendary

-union leader, the late Jimmy Reid.

-There will be no hooliganism.

-There will be no vandalism. There will be no bevvying.

-'What?'

-No bevvying? Was he nuts?

-Not really.

Without the work-in, BAE Systems might not be here today.

Steve and Brian. Very, very, nice to meet you. Thanks for seeing us.

Nice to meet you, Brian.

'We can't leave Brechins without speaking to a shipbuilder.

'Brian and Steven worked the yards in the 1960s

'and can tell it like it was.'

So give us some idea about what it was like to be in the shipyard

-and grafting all that...

-This is the west of Scotland.

It's wet, wet, cold and wet.

In the winter, you'd go to the ship

and it would be covered in hoarfrost. Absolutely freezing.

You go in to where your tools are and get your tool box out,

which is steel, and most of the tools are steel so that

when you start using them, your hands turn up...

Your fingers become like wood.

Murder. Terrible conditions to work in.

Not like these people nowadays who work in heated sheds.

Big safties, I'd say!

I served my time when they were building the QE2.

After a fortnight, I wanted to run away and join the Navy.

The noise, the cold, the swearing.

You know, it's interesting because it's very clear why the pubs

played a role in this because there was...

You worked hard and you worked hard in pretty horrendous conditions.

You must have played just as hard.

Lunchtime, you could go down into the pub

and the barman had already got the bar lined up with glasses.

They would take a bottle of fortified wine,

turn it over the first glass then move it along, move it along, till that bottle was done.

-And they'd have rows of fortified wine and chasers - beer.

-Right.

So a guy would come in and say, "I want a clear and a beer."

A clear was a fortified white wine and a half-pint of heavy.

'These days, Brian is a published poet and has written

'a collection about life in the yards called Bunnets 'n' Bowlers.'

-'Of course! That daft hat you were wearing earlier!

-Yep.

'Bunnets for the workers, bowlers for the bosses.

'The more refined sort of fellow, like myself.

'Oh, give over, man. I'll show you refined with a bit of poetry.'

Inside the Seven Seas, the bar staff lined up quarter gills on the gantry

In preparation for the dinner time rush of thirsty artisans

And quickly learning apprentices who would have their liquid lunch

Of goldies and half-pint chasers.

-So what's a goldie?

-Goldie is a whisky.

Get a wee goldie down you. Feel the warmth as it hits down the stomach.

Then you're back to the grind again in the afternoon.

In the evening, sometimes after another bout of overtime

We would again congregate

This time for a session of serious swalling

Which one evening culminated in the apprentices

Having a tabletop tap-dancing competition

With the artisans giving it laldy, singing

Show Me The Way To Go Home.

-What does laldy mean?

-Laldy means being very exuberant about something,

so if you were singing a song and were giving it laldy,

you'd be really letting it rip. You'd be giving it mince, basically.

-Giving it mince!

-That's when you sing and shout.

-Aye.

-Gives it laldy!

-Aye, great. Aye.

A lot of the shipyards may have gone now but in this lovely pub,

-the spirit's still here isn't it, lads? Cheers.

-ALL: Cheers.

-Thank you very, very much.

-Cheers. Thank you.

-Nice talking with you guys.

-And you.

Well, mucker, I would have quite liked to have worked

in the shipyard and particularly giving it laldy in the pub.

You'd have been good at that. Anyway, pub trivia time.

Which was the biggest ship ever built on the Clyde?

-Queen Mary?

-Wrong.

-What?

-It was 1938.

It was the Queen Elizabeth and it weighed in at a colossal 83,676 tonnes.

And there are plenty of other fascinating facts

-if you know where to look.

-In Glasgow's pub signs, mucker.

-Here's three of our faves.

-The Pot Still is named after a whisky still.

Did you know the still's shape affects the whisky's character?

I can't say I did.

But with over 300 whiskies, we can put that fact to the test.

Wey-hey! That's the spirit.

Lauder's is not named after actor Harry Lauder, as many think,

but after Archibald Lauder, a man who produced a famous whisky.

It was described as "nice and toothsomely". A bit like you, Si.

Why thank you, kind sir. Then there's the famous Horse Shoe Bar.

Named after its horseshoe shaped bar. A design first back in 1994.

And talking of horses, Roy Rogers and Trigger once drank here.

-Bet it was White Horse whisky.

-Oh, dear. Moving on.

Back on our Glasgow tour, we've swapped watering holes for the water.

Do you know where I wanna go next, Si?

I want to go up in one of those. Mother used to drive one, you know.

I do. I knew that.

Well, you can go and play cranes

and I'm going to visit a shipyard that still makes ships.

And I'm travelling five miles doon the wata, from Govan to Clydebank.

It's here that John Brown's shipyard built the luxury liners

known as the Three Queens - the Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mary and QE2.

Sadly, it closed in 1971 and today just one giant reminder survives.

The Titan crane.

Built in 1907, it was the first giant cantilevered crane in the world.

-Hello, Colin.

-Hello. Nice to meet you.

-Pleased to meet you.

'I'm meeting lecturer and author Colin Castle

'to find out more about the Titan.

'But first, I'm going to tell him about my dear old Mum.'

I'm from Barrow, which was a shipyard town. A bit like Glasgow.

-My mum was a crane driver.

-Good heavens.

-She started in the war.

-You know, the lasses came in, the men went away to fight.

-Yeah.

And she loved it. She kept on after the war. And it was funny, actually.

She was pregnant with me but all the other ladies used to sit when they

were waiting for lifts, knitting all my baby clothes up in the cabs.

I used to have all these jumpers with Vickers-Armstrongs

and pictures of cranes on them, all knitted into them.

'The Titan was built by Sir William Arrol's company, but the hard graft

'was put in by these guys - the workers from Clydebank.

'Or bankies, as they were known.'

The thing about the photograph is you notice the absence

of hard hats or steel-capped boots.

And one member of the team is very young indeed.

-We reckon he's about 13.

-I can see the little lad in the middle.

He would be a rivet boy.

It would be his job to heat the rivets in the braziers

and then throw them up to a member of the rivet squad.

1913, would you believe that three-quarters of a million

tonnes of ships were launched on this river alone?

That's a record unequalled by any shipbuilding river anywhere

else in the world. Not even your mother's yard.

Don't tell my mother that.

You know, is it still possible to get up this wonderful crane?

-Oh, yes. We can do that.

-Not sure me knees are up to the climb, like.

-We'll give it a go.

-You don't have to worry. We've got a lift.

-Oh, Scotland. You've got everything.

-Walk this way.

-Thank you.

Cor, I wonder if I'll be able to see Si from the top. Wee-hee!

You need industrial strength binoculars to see me, mate.

I've travelled 19 miles downriver to visit

Ferguson Marine in Port Glasgow.

It was near here in 1812 that the Comet,

the first commercial steam ship in Europe, was built

and kick-started the Clyde's shipbuilding reign.

Ferguson is now one of just two shipbuilders left on the Clyde.

'I'm meeting Hughie and Graham to find out how life in the yards has changed.'

How long's the yard been open, then?

-Well, we've been on this site 115 years or so.

-My God.

-I bet you've seen some changes since then.

-Aye, certainly have.

A lot of changes. I wasnae here 115 years ago.

I was going to say, you're looking well on it.

Just out of interest, lads...

Cos you know, obviously, I'm from the Tyne and there's always

been a friendly rivalry between the Clyde and the Tyne.

I think the personalities and the workforce are very similar as well.

We taught you how to build ships? You're correct. Yeah.

When we told you where the decent supply of steel was

so you could build the ships... Never mind. Anyway.

That's another matter. It's like being in an enemy camp this.

Lads, listen, I'm sticking up for the Tyne, lads.

I'm reet in the Clyde here, boys. Howay!

The work for the lads here has changed massively over the last 50 years.

A workforce of many hundreds is now just 120

and much of their work is done indoors.

There are more computers than draftsmen

and apprentices are trained in all trades, not just one.

But they all still go down the pub, right?

In the olden days, when the horn went for lunchtime,

everybody got three-quarters of an hour and went to the pub,

came back, because it was allowed.

And now night times, do you all still get a chance to socialise

together at the pub? Like you did in the old days?

-Or is it a bit different now?

-It's all changed.

The days of that are over, I would say.

A lot of shipyards used to have social clubs even attached to them. But that's all gone now.

There's now stricter wives that don't allow us to go to the pubs.

-We now have to go home.

-Something's gone wrong!

While you're here, Si, we're looking for an apprentice. Couple of hours.

-Good volunteer? Are you up for it?

-I'd love to. I'd love to.

-Good.

For a start, stick that on your head.

-It's a large, you're all right.

-Yeah, very funny. Here we are.

You can tell we're in the shipyards. A bit of craic now.

The craic's going now.

'I knew they'd need a Tynesider to show them

'how to really build a ship.

'Time to step up to the plate under the eye of Bertie.'

I tell you what, if I'd done my beard purple, I could be Billy Connolly.

I tell you what, you cannot see owt. But it's perfect.

-That's amazing.

-Just take your time and just keep it straight.

-Take your time and keep it straight.

-It's called a horizontal fillet.

-It's called a horizontal...

-Fillet.

-Fillet.

-Uh-huh.

You see, I've always been good with fillets.

-Slide it. You've got to be hitting it.

-Ah. Got you. Now it's going.

Just come and have a look at the difference between my weld and Robert's weld.

That is a perfect fillet weld. Look at that.

Beautiful. That is not.

Look at mine. It's as wrinkly as a granny's stocking.

Look at it! Dear me.

-It's been an absolute pleasure to meet you.

-Don't chuck your job.

THEY LAUGH

-I've not got the brains to be a welder.

-Well, Si.

You did well there. I'll take that off you. There you go. Carry on.

Carry on sweeping.

Listen, is there a tea break coming up or what?

Ah, well, you can't say I'm not a down to earth kind of guy.

-Our Dave, on the other hand...

-Oh, wow, Colin.

What a view from up here.

You can see the whole of Glasgow and all the way down the river.

Some of the most famous ships in the world, and some of the largest,

were launched at this point here.

Launch days are quite something, aren't they?

I remember when I was a kid cos we always got

a day off school in Barrow whenever a ship was being launched.

It was a big festival and we'd all stand opposite to watch the ships go down the slipway.

Well, 1934, Queen Mary was launched and the farmer who owned the land

on the other side of the river here charged people a pound to go

and sit on the banks and watch.

What they didn't realise was that when 35,000 tonnes of steel enters the water, you get a backwash.

So this miniature tidal wave crossed the River Clyde

and drenched these people on the other side.

So for a pound they got a launch and a bath.

They got more than they bargained for.

'You get quite a view from up here.

'But it can't have been all the high life for the driver.'

The driver of the crane started half an hour earlier in the morning

-than anyone else.

-Was that so he could have time to climb up?

To climb up. Yes.

At the end of the working day he left half an hour after

everyone else, so his pals were all off to the pub

and he was still ending up here.

He wouldn't be able to go for a pint at lunchtime.

No. In fact, he'd go with a packed lunch.

He'd take his packed lunch actually in the cab

and the management very kindly supplied him with a bucket.

-A bucket for his necessaries.

-Got it in one.

I'm not keen on that idea - last one in the pub

and missing out on the lunchtime session.

But, you know, on a clear day, you know, the sun's shining,

you've got your book, waiting for a lift, cup of tea...

-It wouldn't be that bad.

-Nice life.

-Aye, aye.

They might have missed the first round,

but I'm sure those crane drivers eventually made it to the pub.

And just as well, because where would our pubs be without their regulars?

It's time to meet a local who loves his local.

Meet John Moonie. He's been coming to The Scotia for nearly 50 years.

But he got interested in this place long before that,

-when he was just a nipper.

-How come?

His dad would pop John and his sister into the theatre next door

-while he came in here for a sly drink.

-Genius.

On a Friday night, my old man would leave me

and my sister in the gods watching the first house

and he would be down here having a few drams.

So, later, I was determined, "I'd love to see this place."

So I eventually saw it and fell in love with The Scotia.

The Scotia sits right by the Clyde.

Near the old ferry stop where many a shipyard worker would have

landed after a hard day's graft.

But it's most famous for its music sessions.

MUSIC PLAYS

Billy Connolly and Jimmy Rafferty have given it laldy in here.

It turns out the regulars join in regularly too.

Well, it's just a session, a jam session.

Anybody's welcome to come in and just play and join them.

The next thing you know, the whole pub is jumping.

That is The Scotia atmosphere.

It's said even legendary Woody Guthrie has sung here too.

# This land is your land

# This land is my land... #

The story goes he popped in

while his ship was docked for repairs during WWII.

The Scotia's always been radical.

It was always a working man's pub-cum-writers, musicians...

An amalgam. As I say, back in the day, there's sailors,

you had everything, bikers, lads from the shipyards, musicians.

This pub is classless.

The Scotia still welcomes people from all walks of life, which is

exactly why it's John's home from home.

Cheers. Here's to The Scotia.

You're welcome to come any time. Slainte.

'We're now both back safely up the Clyde,

'heading for the centre of Glasgow.

'Once a dirty old town, now a cosmopolitan cultural capital.

-'Cosmopolitan? Isn't that the name of a drink?

-Indeed it is.

'And I know just the place we can get one.

'And it owes its style all to shipbuilding.'

Here you are, Si. Rogano.

It's a famous Glasgow institution and you can see why.

It doesn't look as though it's changed for years.

Well, actually, mate, it looks really kind of Art Deco, doesn't it?

1930s. A bit posh. You know what?

I can feel a cocktail or two coming on, dude. After you, sir.

It's a fabulous place, all right.

In 1935, as the Queen Mary took shape on the Clyde,

local restaurateur Don Grant was so impressed

he refitted his new place in the same Art Deco style.

And a Glasgow legend was born.

To tell us more is Ken McCulloch,

who was responsible for restoring the bar in 1984.

It's like stepping back into the 1930s.

I feel like I'm part of a Poirot. Especially with this moustache.

It suits you. You should be part of Poirot.

-Thank you very much, Ken.

-It's very Art Deco, Ken.

-Can you tell us a bit of its history?

-Sure.

If you take it back to...

I think there's always been a lot of deco influences in Glasgow.

But particularly when the shipyards were building the liners

and again, particularly the Queen Mary, which was built in Clydebank.

A lot of the tradesmen who worked at the docks, I think,

to make a few quid, were available when this was being refurbished.

-So a lot of the workers from the shipyard would work here?

-Yes.

They were real craftsmen.

When you rebuilt the bar, what did you actually change?

Well, we had to change everything

-because they found things that shouldn't be here.

-Right.

So what we basically did was we were able to keep the stuff

that we wanted to keep, like, for instance, this mural that's here.

This beauty as designed by Charles Cameron Baillie,

who also worked on the Queen Mary's interior.

Ken was determined to reproduce as much as possible

from the Queen Mary style, even if it meant a road trip to

Huddersfield to the ship's original carpet makers.

I drove to Huddersfield to where the carpet place was.

He said, "What is it you're trying to create, exactly?"

I said, "Well, if you can imagine the first class lounge

"in the Queen Mary, that's what I'd like to create."

He said, "Oh, right. Cos we did all the carpets for the Queen Mary."

Within five minutes, we had carpets everywhere. And I spied this.

And do you know, this was 1984 and it's not doing too bad, is it?

It absolutely isn't.

Ken, thank you so very, very, very much.

-It's been a great pleasure.

-Thank you, Ken. Thank you.

Thanks so much for coming to Glasgow. It's been a pleasure.

You know, Kingy, all we need now is a good old-fashioned

-cocktail to really put us in the mood.

-I'm with you, mucker.

I'm with you. Right. I'll follow you.

-No, after you, Captain Pugwash.

-I'm off.

'And for a top-class cocktail, here's our top-class mixologist.

'Scotty, beam us up, mate.'

-Right. You might have heard of a cosmopolitan.

-Yes.

-Right.

So what I thought we'd do is I would make up and shake up some

cosmopolitans and allow you guys to get involved as well.

-Excellent, Scotty.

-Are you up for a bit of a challenge?

-Certainly are.

Someone's got the wee shaker and somebody's going to get the big bullet shaker.

You might need to fight over it.

'Bizarrely, cocktails got popular during prohibition,

'when America banned alcohol in the '20s and early '30s.

'In illegal speakeasies,

'the rough taste of bootleg gin was hidden with sweet syrups. Ingenious.'

A little bit of cranberry juice in there as well.

'When drinking went legal, cocktail bars boomed.'

-Beautiful.

-OK, now it's over to you, gents.

-Wey!

So you want to hold the top and bottom. Up here, OK?

Take a step back with your right foot. OK. And shake it up and down.

-Make it travel. That's it.

-'In the shaker, we have...

-'45ml of citrus vodka.

-17ml triple sec.

-15ml of lime juice.

-'A dash of cranberry juice.

-Some ice.

-A bit of shaking, not stirring.

'And the piece de resistance...'

OK. So the final part here now...

As avid foodies, you guys will realise the importance

and power of aroma. Orange twist here.

We have a lighter here and just hold it here.

We use the side of the flame because the top of the flame is dirty.

There we go. We scoot the orange oil on top. Do you smell that, yeah?

-Can you smell it?

-Oh, yeah.

'So squeeze the flammable zest oil onto the flame and kaboom!

-'Easy for a chef. Go on, Dave.'

-Three, two, one, squeeze!

-I think I got me fingers in me cocktail!

-Boys, enjoy.

-We'll slip these two twists in there. And that's you...

-Oh, wow.

-Look. Like a slick.

-You can see the oil on the top.

-Amazing.

Yeah, that's a big part.

-Oh, mercy me.

-Oh, flippin' heck. Oh, that... Oh!

-I can hear Glenn Miller going in my head.

-So can I.

MUSIC: "In the Mood" by Glenn Miller

Sadly, the golden era of glamorous transatlantic

cocktail sipping on liners is long gone.

As are most of the shipyards and the sprint for a goldie or a beer

and a clear at the end of the shift.

But from the down to earth boozers like Brechins Bar

and The Scotia to the fine setting of the Rogano,

the spirit of the Clyde's shipbuilding past lives on.

I must say, Si, a couple of cocktails is a wonderful,

fitting way to end our voyage around Glasgow.

I absolutely agree, mate.

I have to say, though, we've been in Scotland all this time

and we've not even talked about whisky.

So here is an amazing fact.

Last year's whisky sales alone, if you took each individual bottle

and laid them end to end, they would stretch a massive 18,000 miles.

Crikey! I mean, that's Glasgow to New York six times over!

Well, that's what I call a dram or two, mucker.

-Cheers.

-Cheers, mate. Cheers.

# I belong to Glasgow Dear old Glasgow town

# But there's something the matter wi' Glasgow

# For it's goin' roun' and roun'

# I'm only a common old working lad

# As anyone can see

# But when I get a couple o' drinks on a Saturday

# Glasgow belongs to me! #