Urban Britain The Nature of Britain

Nine out of ten of us, more than 50 million people,

live in Britain's towns and cities.

These places were created just for us,

and provide everything the sophisticated city-dweller...

could possibly need.

MUSIC: "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" from Mozart's Serenade # 13 in G Major

But with so many people crowded into such a small space,

it's hard to imagine there'd be any room left for wildlife.

Yet somehow, plants and animals always manage to find a way,

not just to survive, but to thrive.

Even if, sometimes, it does take a bit of a leap of faith.

Every spring, the ducklings here at the Barbican Centre

really do take the plunge.

They jump 60ft from their nest, and then swim

for the very first time in their lives.

These ducklings, though you can bet your bottom dollar they don't realise it,

are enjoying one of the many benefits of city life.

It may be a long way to fall,

but it's also a long way for any predator to climb.

So by nesting on these balconies,

next to this concert hall in the heart of the city, they're safe.

So although this place was designed for us, the ducks have found a way

to take advantage of it, too.

And they're not the only wild creatures to enjoy life

in the so-called urban jungle.

MUSIC: "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" from Mozart's Serenade # 13 in G Major

There's a little bit of everything here,

from otters to orchids, sea birds to squirrels,

butterflies to badgers, even the occasional whale!

But what is it about our cities that provides

so many opportunities for wildlife?

I know what you're thinking - "Not very urban, is it?"

But there's a good reason to start our story here...

on the remote, wild and windswept Scottish coastline.

Hidden among this spectacular scenery is an ordinary little bird,

with an extraordinary story -

the shy, reclusive rock dove.

And if it looks familiar, that's because it is.

For the rock dove is the ancestor of that classic city creature...

..the urban pigeon.

And what an amazing transformation they've made.

These birds are almost as well adapted to city life as we are.

Perhaps more so! Their whole lifecycle -

from the food they eat, to the places they build their nests -

take advantage of what we provide.

DOG BARKS

It's not a bad life for a street pigeon.

Just like us, they rather enjoy the creature comforts of our cities.

Takeaway food, 24/7.

Running water on tap.

Convenient, city-centre homes.

And even a varied love life(!)

By becoming so at home in our home,

pigeons have attracted plenty of criticism.

They've been called "vermin", "pests" and even "rats with wings".

But that's a bit unkind. After all, it's not THEIR fault they're here.

Pigeons may not be everybody's cup of tea,

but if we don't like 'em we've only got ourselves to blame,

because our ancestors brought his ancestors here in the first place.

For hundreds of years, we've been breeding pigeons

for every conceivable quality -

for beautiful plumage, tasty meat, or, in this chap's case, speed.

But pigeons are clever creatures,

and they didn't stay cooped up for long.

Once they were free, they interbred.

And many generations later, they'd created a super-pigeon.

But instead of returning to the rigours of living by the sea,

they plumped for city life.

And that's how a shy, rural creature

became the cocky, streetwise bird we know so well.

But now, there's a shadow being cast

over the urban pigeon's carefree existence,

by an old enemy from the coast.

Up here, I'm in the territory of the very latest arrival

on the urban skyline - the peregrine falcon,

the fastest creature on the planet.

The peregrine is the ultimate flying machine,

capable of hunting at speeds of up to 200mph.

Until recently, it was a rare bird, found only in remote wild places.

So how's it getting on here, in the city?

Rather well, actually!

That's because, to the peregrine, the city is a home away from home.

There are cliff-faces, albeit made of concrete,

on which it can build a nest,

lots of lofty vantage points from which it can survey the scene, but most importantly,

plenty of airspace in which it can hunt down its favourite food.

This time, the pigeon got away.

BELL TOLLS But they're not always quite so lucky.

So why, if things are so ideal for peregrines here,

have they only been living in our cities for the past 20 years or so?

It all comes down to numbers.

For many years, peregrines were persecuted and poisoned,

and almost disappeared from Britain.

But when the killing stopped, and numbers began to rise again,

the birds started to look for new places to live.

And they found the ideal des res right here.

Today, the peregrine is perfectly positioned

to take advantage of what the city has to offer.

No wonder they're doing so well all over urban Britain.

In Bristol and Bath, Belfast and Birmingham,

Glasgow...Liverpool...

Swansea...

FADING OUT: Exeter...Cardiff....

It may seem obvious, but one of the most important influences

on our urban wildlife is where our towns and cities are situated.

It's hardly surprising that almost all our major cities are built on rivers.

Our ancestors had the good sense to settle

where they had ample supplies of fresh water,

and where they could repel invaders.

Hence the name of the place where I am now -

Newcastle upon Tyne.

In the days before these magnificent bridges were built,

to bring road and rail travellers to the city,

the main way to get in and out was by boat.

Nowadays the river's hardly used as a highway for people,

which always makes boaters like me rather sad.

But it's still an important thoroughfare for masses of wildlife,

most of which we never even notice.

You might have thought the River Tyne was more about heavy industry than wildlife.

Not any more.

Today these waters are home to some very special animals,

including the occasional seal.

But it's under cover of darkness

that Tyneside's most charismatic creature takes centre stage.

They used to be called "water gypsies",

"goose-footed prowlers", or "shadows of the stream" -

names that reflect their elusive and nomadic nature.

Indeed, for many years, otters were so rare

that they weren't seen at all along the urban stretches of the Tyne.

So how come they're back here now?

During the late 20th century, as heavy industry declined,

the river became much less polluted,

allowing the fish otters feed on to return.

DUCKS QUACK Eventually, the otters came back too.

Nowadays, sights like this are becoming much more regular -

and very welcome.

TRAIN RUMBLES

This delightful scene - on the banks of the Tyne -

shows how the clean-up of Britain's rivers is, once again,

bringing wildlife back to the very heart of our cities.

And as dawn breaks over the city centre,

the famous Tyne Bridge is now attracting a new visitor.

This time, from even further afield - the open ocean.

BIRDS CALL RHYTHMICALLY

If you listen carefully, it'll tell you its name.

"Kitt-ee-wake, kitt-ee-wake!"

In the past few years,

more and more of these charming little sea birds

have chosen to raise a family high above the quayside.

Kittiwakes usually nest on sheer sea cliffs,

huddled together on narrow ledges.

So the man-made ledges of the Tyne Bridge are a home from home.

But what's so unusual about this nesting site

is that it's more than ten miles from the sea,

making this the most inland kittiwake colony in the world.

So why should these sea birds choose an urban high-rise, so far upstream?

The real appeal of this waterfront location

isn't so much the architecture as the food.

Kittiwake numbers on the coast have been plummeting because of food shortages,

but the cleaner waters of the Tyne mean that, here,

there's plenty to eat.

Soon, these kittiwakes will head out into the open ocean,

to spend the rest of the year in such far-flung places as West Africa,

Greenland and Canada.

So while we live here all the year round,

much of our wildlife simply uses our cities as a holiday home.

MUSIC: "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square"

# That certain night The night we met

# There was magic abroad in the air

# There were angels dining at The Ritz

# And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square. #

It's the middle of the winter and I'm up rather late

with my ears tuned, not for the sound of a nightingale,

but for that of another classic British bird.

OK, you're probably thinking, "He's on a hiding to nothing

"because birds don't sing in the middle of winter, let alone at night."

But there is a bird that holds territories all year round

and sings to defend them. BIRD SINGS A THIN, MUSICAL SONG

There's one!

It's a robin.

And there's another one. But it's the middle of the night,

hours before the dawn chorus is scheduled to start, so...

why are these city birds singing their hearts out now?

The answer is all around us.

Light. Like us,

robins are meant to be awake during the daytime, and asleep at night.

But in our cities, artificial lighting

is confusing their body clocks.

What scientists reckon is happening here is that this robin,

like all others, goes to sleep shortly after dusk. But then,

he's waking up in the middle of the night

because the street lights have convinced him that dawn's approaching.

Once awake, he'll start to sing,

and that prompts other robins in the street to join in,

all defending their own territories.

Delightful as it is to hear a robin sing in t'dead of a winter's night,

you can't help but wonder if all this nocturnal activity

is actually good for such a little bird.

Singing burns up a lot of calories, particularly when it's cold.

And yet far from singing themselves to death

these robins appear to be in good health.

How they manage to maintain their body weight

when they're up half the night is a mystery.

Though it might be that they're stocking up

with extra food during the daytime.

So, thanks to the bright lights of urban living,

we have insomniac birds that seem to cope a darn sight better

with sleep deprivation than we do! I'm off to bed.

-RADIO:

-'..in London and the south-east it's another fine day.

'Temperatures will reach 19 degrees Celsius, that's 66 degrees Fahrenheit, in outlying areas.

'And it'll be a few degrees warmer in the capital.

'Traffic news. There's been an accident on the M25...'

As well as light, the city's heat also has a major impact on our wildlife.

Waste heat spews out of our homes, shops and offices.

From heaters in winter, air conditioners in summer,

and from traffic all the year round.

The smooth, shiny surfaces of buildings reflect all this hot air

back upon itself, like a giant storage heater.

And this creates a very modern phenomenon - the urban heat-island.

In plain English, that means our cities can be up to five degrees warmer

than the surrounding countryside.

In the middle of winter, a few degrees can make the difference

between frost or no frost, life or death.

The extra warmth also explains why spring comes a few weeks earlier

to urban areas than it does to rural Britain.

And why autumn arrives a week or two later than in the countryside.

But for a really nice, warm, cosy environment,

with all the creature comforts,

why not move in with the most successful urban animal of all? Us!

Our homes play host to an incredible range of creatures.

Some are with us all the year round, like the tiny silverfish,

that feeds off the starch found in the bindings of books.

The woolly bear, larva of the carpet bug,

with its taste for soft furnishings.

And the well-dressed person's nightmare -

the caterpillar of the dreaded clothes moth.

Others are seasonal visitors, gate-crashing our homes in autumn

as the weather turns chilly, like ladybirds

and the large and notorious house spider.

But not all our lodgers are quite so conspicuous.

Take a look at this chap.

He may look like a daddy-longlegs caught in a cobweb,

but then that's exactly what he wants his prey to believe.

He is, in fact, a daddy-longlegs spider.

He looks just like the daddy-longlegs

for a very good reason.

The thin legs and small body make it far harder to spot

than the more thickset house spiders,

so its prey doesn't even notice it's there.

But that's not the only weapon in the daddy-longlegs spider's repertoire.

Just look what happens when I pretend to be a predator.

Ooh! On springs!

That vibrating movement puts off any larger creature

hoping to have the spider for a meal.

Once the threat has gone, the spider settles down again,

and waits for its own lunch to come along.

Our homes are the equivalent of a five-star hotel -

warm, comfortable, with room service on tap.

No wonder our guests are so reluctant to check out!

How many insects come here and go in an English city garden?

Quite a few, actually. Metre for metre,

our urban gardens have more species than a patch of Amazon rainforest,

making them the most biodiverse habitat on the planet.

And it's not just creepy-crawlies.

Garden ponds are swimming with life.

There's a cosy home for hedgehogs,

and all sorts of birds enjoy the gourmet menu we provide.

And one of those birds has a fascinating story to tell,

that reveals just how crucial our city gardens have become for Britain's wildlife.

BIRDS SING TUNEFULLY

You know, when I'm out in the garden on a fine spring day,

there's absolutely nothing I like better than stopping the clatter of the mower

and just listening to the songbird chorus.

And there's absolutely no doubt who's the star soloist!

The blackbird. A champion songster,

and I reckon just about the best voice of any British bird.

LOUD, MUSICAL SONG

It's such a confident air, isn't it?

With a hint of vibrato - sort of lyric tenor meets cello.

You don't just hear the song, you feel it.

Today, in suburbs like this,

blackbirds are one of our commonest garden birds.

In fact, they're packed in here

ten times more densely than in the countryside.

And it's all down to this.

We, as a nation of gardeners,

have made it possible for the suburban blackbird to thrive

by creating a patchwork of mini-habitats

that cater for all its needs. BLACKBIRD SINGS

Blackbirds are doing so well in suburban gardens

it's easy to forget that they don't really belong here.

Like many other garden birds,

their ancestral home is the woodland that once covered most of Britain.

Which brings me back to the blackbird's singing prowess.

In order for potential mates to be able to find one another

in dense woodland, they needed to make a sound

that could penetrate the thick, leafy canopy.

Hence the deep, powerful song.

A song that should forever remind us

of the blackbird's secret woodland past.

And there's another reason that blackbirds,

and many other creatures from the wild wood, are doing so well here.

Your garden may not be very big,

but it's part of a much larger green network...

made up of gardens, parks and other green spaces.

So your little patch is part of a much bigger patchwork quilt.

And it's this network that has allowed another creature

from the countryside to colonise our towns and cities -

the fox.

DOG WHIMPERS

The streets of Glasgow are a far cry from the original home of foxes.

But now that they've made their way into the city,

they've found that our backyards aren't a bad place to raise cubs.

And having moved here, city foxes have changed their behaviour.

While country foxes grow up to be wary of humans,

these little fellows are likely to be as brash and bold as their parents.

So confident that they often wander the streets in full view,

without giving us so much as a second glance.

But this new-found confidence has its downside.

An urban fox is a bushy-tailed James Dean -

living fast and dying young.

That's because while foraging for food in our busy streets,

they're in constant danger from traffic.

So for the fox,

relocating to the city doesn't always work out for the best.

Of course, not all the creatures that live in our towns and cities,

and take advantage of the food on offer, are newcomers.

Some wild residents got here before we did

and have managed to survive while we built our homes and streets around them.

But you won't see them till after dark.

PEOPLE CHATTER

I'm in Brighton, about a mile from the pier,

and I'm hoping to tempt some of the town's longest-established inhabitants

to show their faces with a few titbits.

PHONE RINGS, DOG BARKS

You can see it moving.

There's one coming towards us now.

Of course, most gardeners...

absolutely dread badgers coming into their garden,

cos you know, gardeners are good diggers, but badgers are better

and they always dig where you don't want them digging.

Trouble is, I'd be hard-pressed to decide

whether I preferred a nice border of dahlias,

or sitting on my doorstep watching badgers. It's a very tricky call!

I think I might risk trying to get a bit closer.

When you think about it, it's pretty remarkable

that this classic countryside creature

has been able to hang on here as the city grew up all around it.

Whether it's because we deliberately leave out scraps for them,

or because we're careless with our rubbish,

these badgers can enjoy a slap-up meal right on their doorstep.

And just like the foxes, they've also changed their lifestyle.

Country badgers have to forage from dusk to dawn,

and cover large areas to find food.

But the typical badger about town simply pops out for a few hours,

under cover of darkness, and visits a handful of gardens close to its sett.

As a result, urban badgers have much smaller territories.

Compared with their country cousins,

these city guys are real couch potatoes.

They don't get much exercise, they don't travel very far for their food,

they're fatter than their country cousins,

and they don't really interact with other social groups.

Sound like anybody you know?!

'Of course, not all creatures enjoy living cheek by jowl

'with their human neighbours.'

Some animals need big open spaces,

and the peace and quiet that goes with them.

HOARSE, RASPING CALL So what are the chances of that in our busy cities?

Actually, they're pretty good!

Richmond Park, on the outskirts of London.

Every autumn, red deer perform their annual courtship ritual here.

They've been doing so for more than 300 years,

ever since Charles I enclosed the park for hunting.

While the city around the park has changed beyond recognition,

this place has provided a welcome sanctuary,

where our largest land mammal can...

well, fight in peace.

And on nearby Wimbledon Common, another creature is taking part

in head-to-head combat on a rather smaller scale.

The stag beetle.

Cor! Look at this! Talk about a ringside seat!

Gracious me!

My granny would've loved this. She used to love all-in wrestling!

But they don't fight to the death. they just until the point's proven

and it's not always the big one that wins.

But whichever one does win, wins the lady.

Ah, now here's madam.

I suppose when you're that size and shape

there's really, em... only one approach!

And it's at times like this that a stable, unchanging place,

like Wimbledon Common, becomes so important to a stag beetle.

After mating, the female needs to find a rotting log, where she can lay her eggs.

When the larva hatches, it'll feed on the decomposing wood

for up to seven years. Then, one spring,

it'll finally emerge as a beetle, for an adult life

that lasts just a few weeks.

It's rather poignant to think that after so many years underground

this is their one brief, shining moment.

And it's rather a privilege to be able to witness it.

MUSIC: "Parklife" by Blur

Park life isn't always a haven of peace and quiet.

But nowadays, it's not US who are making all the noise.

Yes, these really are wild parakeets.

These birds originally came from India,

but they didn't get to suburban London under their own steam.

Back in the 1960s, they were a popular cage-bird,

and one day some of them made a successful bid for freedom!

Everyone thought they'd keel over come the first cold snap.

But these pretty boys and girls are used to winters

in the Himalayan foothills, and with plenty of food,

were never likely to starve.

They've found places to nest, too,

though an old woodpecker hole is a bit of a squeeze.

Ring-necked parakeets are just the latest of many foreign creatures

to find a home in our cities.

Some of these animals have been around for so long now,

we think of them as thoroughly British.

Grey squirrels are such a familiar sight in our city parks

that it's easy to forget that they weren't introduced to Britain,

from North America, until just over 100 years ago.

They may not really belong here, but for most city people,

these are the only furry creatures they're ever likely

to come face to face with.

Unless, that is, you happen to live in one rather special location,

north of the border.

Dundee is the only British city that can boast resident red squirrels

in its urban parks and gardens.

It seems ideal for them here -

lots of mature trees, plenty of food to eat,

and nothing to trouble them.

Just perfect.

Or it has been, until now.

Because Dundee's red squirrels are now under threat, from guess who?

Yep, our old friend, the grey squirrel.

Being larger, tougher and more resistant to disease,

grey squirrels simply out-compete the reds.

It's not the greys' fault.

It's all down to us for bringing them to Britain in the first place.

But if greys move in as their neighbours, the reds are doomed.

It's taken the greys more than a century to travel up the country

as far as Scotland. But now they're finally here,

and Dundee's reds are under siege.

So far at least, measures taken to repel the grey invaders

mean that the city's red squirrels are still hanging on.

But how long they'll manage to do so, no-one can tell.

Britain's cities are constantly changing.

And although that makes life difficult for some creatures,

it means that there are new opportunities for others.

For the final chapter in the story of urban Britain,

I'm heading west, in search of a creature that, whether we like it or not,

has taken advantage of every opportunity our cities provide.

LIFT PINGS And I've been told that I'll find it

in that most chic of urban residences, the penthouse suite.

Going up. Soft furnishings... ladies' underwear...

seagulls...

Seagulls?!

Well, they weren't wrong!

Seagulls everywhere. Even in the middle of Bristol.

Wonderful!

They used to go back to the coast

to breed. But now they don't even bother. They've made this their home.

Oh! They're very territorial! We were here first, you know?

Scary!

Ah. There's chicks here. That'll be why.

OK, I'm going, I'm going.

Yes, all right!

I give in. I'm getting out of here!

These lesser black-backed and herring gulls

have moved here from the seaside

because the city provides everything they could possibly need.

High-rise homes can't be reached by foxes, and because cities are warmer,

they can get a head start on their coastal cousins

by breeding earlier in the year.

But that isn't the only reason they're doing so well.

There's one thing that makes a crucial difference

between success or failure for these gulls.

And to find out what, I need to do a bit of detective work.

Here we are. Exhibit A, your honour!

Chicken bones. Hundreds of 'em!

They give us a clue why seagulls are doing so well away from the coast.

It's all about fast food.

But not the kind that you and I enjoy on a Saturday night.

So where do they get it?

From here! We dump 30 million tons of household waste every year.

That's around a ton for every home in Britain.

And that's a free lunch, breakfast, dinner and tea,

for thousands of hungry gulls.

But the gulls didn't always have it so easy.

In days gone by, we used to burn our domestic waste,

leaving nothing for them to scavenge.

When we decided to dump our rubbish instead,

we accidentally provided a golden opportunity for the gulls.

So while they used to have to fly out to sea to find food,

nowadays they simply pop down to the local landfill site,

then head back home to town.

As a result, there are well over 100,000 pairs of gulls

breeding in our city centres. And that figure is set to rise ten-fold

over next decade, to around a million pairs.

So the next time somebody says to you,

"Ah! Seagulls inland - sign of a storm at sea,"

you can say, "It ain't necessarily so!"

In fact, they're all set to become one of our commonest city birds.

Even outnumbering our old friend the urban pigeon.

These gulls perfectly demonstrate

the opportunities our cities offer to wildlife.

The very structure of the city gives them somewhere safe to nest,

its warmth means that they can start breeding early,

and the lights that they can feed at night.

And there's always a plentiful supply of food, thanks to our wastefulness.

So I suppose, out of all the creatures that live alongside us,

the gull is the ultimate city slicker!

With newcomers like gulls moving in to the neighbourhood,

alongside the creatures we've always lived with,

you might say that Britain's towns and cities

are turning into the new countryside!

So if you're one of this country's 50 million city folk,

Britain's wildlife really is where you live.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

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