Episode 2 Santer

Hello and welcome to Santer.

In this week's programme, Queen's student, Diana Culbertson,

on her thesis on marching bands.

Whenever you tell people that you're doing a PhD thesis,

they expect something very academic but I think it's a wonderful topic.

Mark Wilson meets Eddi Reader on his musical journey throughout Scotland.

For a guy who was one of the greatest literary figures in the world,

to be standing at a window scratching his writings onto the glass...

I think he might have been a wee bit steaming when he wrote that.

Ben Robinson takes us through the safety gear you need for Motocross.

You have your ribs protected, your shoulders and elbows.

And Gibson Young joins Will Cromie on a tour around the Ards.

By the time they came, the salvage crew, only the hull was left!

But afore all that, a wee bit of music from Stonewall.

Well, Alister, here we are at the beautiful Dunseverick harbour.

Whenever we were weans, we would have come down here,

down to the pools to have a swim.

But folk came here for a different reason.

Yes, a more serious reason, Anne.

When you had the big exodus of people to America

from this part of the world in the 18th century,

we always imagine they went from a bustling quayside, you know,

with people coming and going and carrying bags and things

but actually people went from little harbours as well.

And we have on record people going from Dunseverick harbour here,

in a little rowing boat,

out to the horizon there, where the big ship would be going along

and going into the Foyle estuary to pick up the major embarkation group.

And that loneliness of the little boat,

maybe contrasts with the hustle and bustle of the big quay -

the quay where lots of people were going together.

Really, round Dunseverick, there's not a lot of houses.

I wonder where the folk came from?

They would have been people from around here,

between here and the Causeway,

local fishermen and farmers and people like that.

States like Maine attracted people with that background -

where they could slip into a similar lifestyle pretty quickly.

So, Alister, really it would have been very lonely

coming down here for two folk,

maybe going on their own, saying cheerio to grandparents and parents.

I know we all know the story about emigration

and folk taking off but when you're standing here,

it would nearly make you greet, the thought of what they're away to.

It's a wee harbour, nothing happening, and a real hard blow

for some of the families left behind.

I think you're right, Anne. It's more personal.

You can, you know, virtually touch where they left from

and sense it very much on a day like this.

Whereas, if you go to a museum

and you see fibreglass figures, it's not the same.

So I get a real sense of sadness and, mixed with that,

anticipation here as the waters kind of lap.

And you could almost picture them in their little boat,

heading out there to the horizon.

Hi. I'm Ben Robinson. ENGINE REVS

I'm age eight.

And I love Motocross.

I got my first bike when I was five.

This bike here is 2010.

It's got six gears, 65cc.

I've raced on it quite a few times -

more than on any bike, more or less.

This track here we built in our own back field,

so that we wouldn't have to travel far to practise.

About my Dad. He's been very good, so he has, at racing.

He helped me with the bike and showed me how to ride.

You might want to stand back a few steps...if he comes off!

I'm afraid his old dad's knackered!

Ben was racing there through the wee Carrick - Carrick MCC.

They run the wee youth grass-tracks

and the one he was riding at was over in Glenoe there.

You can start racing from the age of six, for to get their wee licence.

As it comes on up through, you know, boys and girls of all ages.

There's wee girls racing quads.

There's some wee girls riding Motocross bikes.

It's a very well-run wee club.

And it gets them out, something to do, keeps them off the streets.

You can't race without your safety gear

because if I didn't, I wouldn't be allowed to ride.

When I'm riding along and it's a bumpy track,

my neck brace will stop my helmet from going all over the show.

You have to wear body armour underneath your top

because it gives you more protection.

You have your ribs protected,

your shoulders and elbows,

your spine.

When you're racing, you fall...get up...go.

People will help you.

The first race, I got a fourth.

And then the next race, I'm hoping to get up in the top four

to bring me up in the Championship.

Do you think you'll get as good as your Daddy,

or are you better than your Daddy?

Never as good.

Oh, you will! You're chasing me round here, like.

Me and my friends were just keeping going about starting a team,

so we were.

That's what we want, really, to happen in the future.

The last time we met Mark Wilson,

he had just started his musical journey in Carlisle.

He has now crossed the border to Scotland.

My journey, which started in Carlisle in England,

has now taken me northwards into Scotland.

And I'm travelling along the path the exiled Border Reivers

would have used when they were forced off their lands by James I.

A path northwards but a path westwards -

towards the coast and towards Ulster.

And they would have come through the town I'm just about to enter -

what's now the Scottish border town of Dumfries.

Dumfries - meaning "Fort of the Thicket",

also known as "Queen of the South" -

was home to important people in Scottish history.

But the most famous son of the Doonhamers

must be the bard himself, Robbie Burns.

It was here, to this house in Mill Street,

that Burns moved in 1793.

And it was from a little room behind one of these windows

that Burns wrote more than 100 of his best-loved works.

And these works were best loved in Ulster, by the Scots in Ulster,

who spoke that language that Burns wrote in.

The first publication of Burns's works anywhere in the world

was in the Belfast Newsletter.

Although often regarded as Scotland's National Poet,

he himself would rather be regarded as a songwriter.

# You're welcome, Willie Stewart

# You're welcome, Willie Stewart

# There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May

# That's half sae welcome as thou art!

# Come, bumpers high, express your joy

# The bowl we must renew it

# The tappet hen, gae bring her ben

# To welcome Willie Stewart

# You're welcome, Willie Stewart

# You're welcome, Willie Stewart

# There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May

# That's half sae welcome as thou art... #

So, Eddi, it's very surreal here being in,

not only Burns's favourite pub,

-but in his own bedroom in his favourite pub.

-I know. I know!

When I first came here and they showed me this room,

I just couldn't believe it.

I could feel the ghosts hanging around, you know?

-And he's still here?

-He must be, I think.

Probably a bit of DNA in that bed!

Definitely! Definitely! I'd check it out.

# ..Though foes be strang and friends be slack

# Their action must they rue it

# May women on him turn her back

# That wrangs thee, Willie Stewart

# You're welcome, Willie Stewart... #

So why's the girl from Fairground Attraction doing Burns songs?

Well, I always did, you know, I did.

Before I got to London

and tried my hand at the charts, if you like, you know...?

I was in Folk Clubs up here

and I learned things like Ae Fond Kiss and the Lowlands Of Holland.

So it was natural for me to find a writer like Robert Burns

and fall in love with his words.

# ..There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May

# That's half sae welcome as thou art...#

For me, Burns, when I was growing up,

was something highbrow,

maybe unreachable, maybe intellectually not my equal?

And what I've discovered as I've got older

is that, in actual fact, he was exactly like me.

He came from exactly the same place

and could speak my language, really.

And when I read his words, I see me in them

and he helps me explain myself.

# ..A flower it grows, it fades, it fa's

# And nature cannot renew it

# But worth and truth, eternal youth

# We'll gie to Willie Stewart! #

One of the places he wrote, in this room,

it actually wasn't on paper - it was on the window.

-Yeah.

-And he was a bit of a ruffian because he etched songs with a pen.

He must have had a pen with, like, a diamond...

They had a diamond stylus, they called it, right?

So they must have had a bit of diamond on the end of a nib thing.

For a guy who's one of the greatest literary figures in the world,

to be standing at this window

scratching his writings onto the glass...it's amazing!

He wrote two songs. He wrote, "You're welcome, Willie Stewart"

and he wrote "The Lovely Polly Stewart".

And Polly was the daughter of his best friend, Willie Stewart.

And I do "Willie Stewart"

but I like adding the verse

that he wrote to her in the song.

This one is... Let's see, what has he written?

"Oh, lovely Polly Stewart, Oh, charming Polly Stewart

"There's no' a flower that blooms in May,

"that's half so fair as thou art."

I think he might have been a wee bit steaming when he wrote that

cos it's a wee bit squiggly!

# Och, you're lovely, Willie Stewart

# You're welcome, Willie Stewart

# There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May

# That's half sae welcome as thou art!

# You're welcome, Willie Stewart,

# Oh, you're welcome, Willie Stewart

# There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May

# That's half sae welcome as thou art

# Yeah, yeah, yeah... #

In Ulster-Scots, some words can have many different meanings.

The last time, Gary Blair and Liam Logan looked at the word "road".

This time, the word is "rough".

A word I always found very funny,

on account of the way that we use it in Ulster-Scots, is "rough".

Well, I prefer the way it's rendered in Ulster-Scots

because it sits handier in my mouth - "ruch".

Aye, "ruch's" the way to say it, aye.

And if a person set you up a plate of grub that wasn't too good,

how would you describe that?

That would be rough pecking.

-I heard it used about lodgings.

-Aye.

When you were staying with somebody, or you went to somebody's house,

and you said, "Boys, it was gye ruch."

That would usually indicate that the standards of hygiene

and cuisine were not very high.

They weren't at cordon bleu standard.

No. You're right about "ruch". It's all about pronunciation.

It's all about how we say a thing.

There's another meaning, separate and exclusive to Ulster-Scots.

If you were talking about a girl that was going to be a bride,

and maybe wasn't as well-favoured as a beauty queen,

but had a shilling or two to her pocket,

people would say she'd "a good purse to her arse".

And that would be rendered as, "She had a roughness of money".

Aye, a roughness, I heard that said afore.

Our whole family would have used that there.

"Have you much money on you?"

"Och, I have a roughness". We seemed to know how much it was.

Even I knew how much that was.

I couldn't tell you to the pound, shilling and pence

-but I knew a roughness when I heard it.

-But it wasnae much.

It was more than I have today!

Well, as you all know,

there's hundreds of marching bands all over the country.

And as well as that, hundreds of different views on these bands.

One student from Ballymoney that goes to Queen's,

has taken the opportunity to write a thesis on these bands.

Her name is Diana Culbertson.

I've lived in Ballymoney all my life,

so I'm very accustomed to marching bands.

I was always at band parades.

In my final year at Queen's,

I did an Irish traditional music module.

And, er...everybody was doing it on violins

and fiddles and accordions and what-not.

So I did it on the Lambeg drum.

So I had done that and got quite a good mark in it

and was very interested in learning a bit more

about my own culture from doing that.

So I approached Queen's to see if I could do something on marching bands

and that's where I've ended up today.

So I had been observing four local bands from within the area

and I ended up becoming a member of Dunloy Accordion Band.

'It's definitely far more difficult to play whenever it's wet.'

I'm not too impressed by any means.

But that's dedication for you.

Bands are deeply misunderstood.

The "blood and thunder" bands, marching bands,

were a direct product of the Troubles.

And I think at that time, it was more about noise and numbers

as opposed to musical finesse,

whereas I think the roles have been reversed now.

Definitely, within Dunloy, it's always been about musicality.

People think we just sit in our Orange Halls and practise,

or wherever you practise at,

and try to make as much noise as possible

to try and create contentions. I don't think that's true

because I certainly don't go to Dunloy Orange Hall,

to band practice every week, with that in mind.

I'm going to make music and make good music.

This is the typical type of accordion

we would use in Dunloy Accordion Band.

They're worth thousands of pounds.

These here are your different voices.

It's like playing a piano and I find whenever you're playing a piano,

it takes years to master it.

When it comes to playing the accordion,

you're taught within the band.

That can take anything up to a year, two years.

They will then learn a bit of drill,

learn how to play the instrument and march.

Then you're allowed on the road

and even that's quite difficult in itself

because these are not that light!

Whenever you tell people that you're doing a PhD thesis,

they expect, I suppose, something very academic

but marching bands... sometimes people have a laugh.

But I think it's a wonderful topic. I've met new friends and I'm hoping to give people

a greater insight into marching bands from within this region.

One of the best-known characters from about the Ards is Will Cromie.

Will has a powerful lot of knowledge and can tell many a good yarn.

Over the next three weeks,

he'll meet up with fellow Ardsman and musician Gibson Young,

to share some of these yarns wi' us.

# La la la, la la lee

# Oh, six miles from Bangor to Donaghadee... #

-And so we have got into Donaghadee and there's a queer old view here.

-Aye, it's not bad now.

I was looking at the old light-house there.

I suppose, when that was put up, it would just have been big lamps, big paraffin lamps.

-Aye, likely.

-But I suppose when you think on it, years ago,

the old boys that lured the boats onto the rocks...

Aye, just with a lamp, here... waving them in.

And then went out and stole the cargo.

They thought this was perfectly all right.

If a boat was on the rocks, they're entitled to take all they wanted.

Aye, well, it's salvage rights, I suppose.

They say there was one went up on Wallace's Rocks

and word came down they weren't to touch this boat.

By the time they came, the salvage crew, there was only the hull left!

-They'd the timber out of it.

-Stripped!

-Every timber.

Light-bulbs and everything.

They said down there, when it sank,

old Sammy Dunbar was fishing at the side of it

and this boy was doing a bit of diving round the old wrecks.

And he came up and said to Sammy, "Are you getting much?"

"Aye," Sammy says, "I got a big sea trout there, nearly 20lbs".

And he says, "What are you getting down there?"

"Well," he says, "You'll not believe it. I went down there and I found a lamp".

"And I brought it up and it was still lit".

Sammy says, "I'll tell you what, if you blow the candle out,

"I'll knock 10lbs off the weight of the fish".

# One day I was in Bangor

# And called with Miss Brown

# She was up in her bath

# But she couldn't come down

# Says I, "Slip on something and come down real quick"

# So she slipped on the soap and came down in a tick!

# La la la, la la lee

# Oh, six miles from Bangor to Donaghadee... #

There's the old track there.

The railway line came right down the whole road from Belfast,

right down the quay here.

And then loaded the steam boat on the side.

You see the old winch on the side there.

The old mail, when it was brought down here, it was how far it went.

It didn't matter about first or second class.

Going to Liverpool was one price, going to London another price.

It was sort of so much a mile?

Aye. By the mile instead of by the weight.

If you go into the Post Office now,

you have a wee letter box sort of thing,

and if it doesn't fit in, it's one price.

It goes to the next one and it's another price.

And then they say, "Oh, that'll cost you a fortune."

# One day I was at market I bought a wee hen

# I thought I would like a fresh egg now and then

# But the very next morning I got a great shock,

# Says the hen, "Sure I can't lay, I'm only a cock"

# La la la, la la lee

# Oh, it's six miles from Bangor to Donaghadee... #

Just looking at the old pub there.

Boy, they say that's the oldest pub in Ireland, 1611.

They were selling porter then.

The first boy that got full in it wouldn't have a sore head today!

No, I don't think so.

But two doors down from the bar,

there's a wee barber shop.

And I used to love that when you were a wean and went in.

It was the old thrupenny haircut - everyone got a short back and sides.

But Wee Sam run it

and this day Big Davy came in and set himself on the chair.

"Tidy her up", he says.

And Sam says, "Is this for the big day?"

He says, "What big day?" He says, "The 12th, the field".

"No. 40 years I have gone to that field but I'm retired now

"and the weans have bought me and the wife a wee holiday."

And he says, "I'll tell you where I'm going, I'm going to Rome."

He says, "The Master of the Lodge on the 12th going to Rome?"

"That's where I'm going".

So about three weeks later, he's dandering up the street and he spies Big Davy.

"Well," he says, "Did you get to Rome?"

"I did. I saw all around it, boy, and I finished up in this square

"and there were hundreds of folk and the wee man himself came, the Pope.

"And he came in and I watched him, for I didn't want to look ignorant,

"and when he went to a couple,

"the woman kind of bowed and the man got down on one knee.

"I tell you, he came straight over to me.

"And I got down on one knee and he put his hand on my head".

Sam says, "He what?"

"He put his hand on my head and he spoke to me."

"And do you know what he said?" "What?", he said.

He said, "In the name of heavens, who cut your hair like that?"

# La la la, la la lee

# Oh, it's six miles to Bangor from Donaghadee. #

Do you mind Diana Culbertson told us about her thesis on marching bands?

For by having brains, Diana's an excellent singer

and what better way to end the show than Diana singing us out,

accompanied by Dunloy Accordion Band?

I think this might just be a wee bit special. Cheerio!

# I'll sing it one last time for you

# Then we really have to go

# You've been the only thing that's right

# In all I've done

# And I can barely look at you

# But every single time I do

# I know we'll make it anywhere

# Away from here

# Light up, light up

# As if you have a choice

# Even if you cannot hear my voice

# I'll be right beside you, dear

# Louder, louder

# And we'll run for our lives

# I can hardly speak, I understand

# Why you can't raise your voice to say

# To think I might not see those eyes

# Makes it so hard not to cry

# And as we say our long goodbyes

# I nearly do

# Light up, light up

# As if you have a choice

# Even if you cannot hear my voice

# I'll be right beside you, dear

# Louder, louder

# And we'll run for our lives

# I can hardly speak, I understand

# Why you can't raise your voice to say

# Oooooohhhhh

# Oooooohhhhh

# Oooooohhhhh

# Oooooohhhhh

# Oooooohhhhh

# Light up, light up

# As if you have a choice

Even if you cannot hear my voice

# I'll be right beside you, dear

# Louder, louder

# And we'll run for our lives

# I can hardly speak, I understand

# Why you can't raise your voice to say

# Ooooooh... #

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd 2011

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