ALISON ROWAT

Winterwatch****

BBC2

YOU could have cut the tension with a Swiss Army Knife. BBC2 was streaming live from the Commons as the UK’s elected representatives voted their way towards, or away from, Brexit. 

History was unfolding, but it was almost 8pm, furry critters were calling from Scotland, what would the schedulers do? Stay or go? Without a second’s hesitation the MPs were dropped like a handful of yellow snow and Winterwatch was back.

It takes a special kind of naturalist eager beaver to be outdoors in Scotland on a sub-zero night, and they do not come more bushy-tailed than the Winterwatch team. Chris Packham is practically half otter (have you seen the sheen on his hair?), and if Michaela Strachan does not have chipmunk in her DNA I’ll eat a bale of straw.

This was it, then, the big move from the balmy uplands of Gloucestershire, setting for the last series, to a new, year-round location in Cairngorms National Park.

Given his tendency to feel the cold, Packham fans have naturally been concerned how he would cope with the Scottish winter. I wouldn’t say Sir David Attenborough’s punky younger brother had gone overboard with the puffa jackets, but if he had been dropped from a plane over George Square he would have bounced.

The entire show, running over four nights this week, was the kind of advertisement for Scotland money cannot buy. VisitScotland staff must have been hugging themselves.

The serious conservationists among us waited patiently till the more juvenile of the audience at home got the sniggering out of their system at mentions of crested tits, great tits, blue tits and suchlike. Really, grandpa, every year? Packham mentioned faeces a lot and delightedly read out a report of birds feasting on a corpse. Maybe VisitScotland can edit that bit out. Controversial as ever, in a discussion about favourite films (his is Blade Runner) he called Braveheart “absolute rubbish”. Fair enough, though I’m not sure all the two legged wildlife up here would agree.

What, then, were the scores on the doors last night? How many golden eagles, wildcats, and otters had been spotted? Er, none, but a mouse had been seen in a bothy. Well worth the licence fee. There was better value to be had from the night camera footage, where we saw a pine marten being spooked by a badger. Eat your heart out, You’ve Been Framed. 

There was a brown hare on the live thermal camera, and four badgers. Earlier there had been deer, but so common are they in these parts the producers didn’t even bother showing them. You will have to up your game, Bambi, if you want to get on live telly. Try juggling.

Fortunately, there was a “one we made earlier” film introducing the area to those unfamiliar with it. Did you know, for example, that Scotland used to be called Caledonia, and that the Cairngorms are quite a way from Edinburgh?

To counter the cold there was a fire pit in the teepee studio in The Dell of Abernethy, but Strachan’s nose was still red enough to audition for Rudolph’s job. Joining Packham and Strachan were Gillian Burke and naturalist Iolo Williams, who was the size of his three co-presenters combined. If the temperature plunges even further the three of them could set up home in one of his armpits.

Packham clearly loves it here, and he spoke warmly about the conservation work going on in the area, with one project set to run for 200 years. Just think, in two centuries’ time, the great, great, great heir to Packham could be beaming live from Scotland. And there would still be a moose loose about the bothy.