Original subtitles

All around the planet,

billions of animals are on the move...

making incredible journeys.

The most amazing of these...

are the smallest.

This series uses the latest camera technology

to follow six tiny animals

on the biggest adventures of their lives...

as they travel through extraordinary landscapes...

where every little step counts.

In this episode,

a newly-hatched turtle must travel through a tangled forest

to seek the safety of water...

and a nocturnal bush baby

must venture into a strange world of light

to find a new home.

The greatest adventures are the smallest.

This painted turtle hatchling is the size of a walnut.

Her nest in Algonquin, Canada,

has been in the perfect place for incubation.

Made of loose, sandy soil

and bathed in sunshine,

it has kept her safe for three months.

But now, she must leave

on a mission to find a lake she can call home...

unaware of what lies ahead.

Only 1% of hatchlings will make it to adulthood,

so her destiny is far from certain.

It is autumn

and night-time temperatures are unpredictable,

so she must make it to water in just eight hours...

because if there is a frost,

the rapid drop in temperature will kill her.

For most hatchlings, eight hours is plenty of time.

But her mother selected an unconventional spot to nest in...

the roadside verge of Highway 60.

Built in 1936,

it transects the southern portion of Algonquin Provincial Park.

The sandy roadside edges have become favoured sites for nesting turtles.

But it puts this newly-emerged hatchling in mortal danger

as she tries to reach the lake.

Instinctively, she heads for the horizon.

Turtles are hard-wired to associate horizons with the presence of water.

Here, it takes her on a direct path up to the road.

It's not just the traffic she needs to worry about.

Predators patrol the highway, searching for an easy meal.

Her body is adapted for swimming, not climbing -

with webbed feet too tiny to grip the gravel.

All the slipping wastes valuable time.

A red fox.

Instinct kicks in and she freezes.

She is camouflaged amongst the pebbles.

The forest lies ten metres ahead of her...

the equivalent of half a mile for a human.

Out here, there's no hiding.

On this flat ground, she can travel much quicker

at a quarter of a mile an hour.

But with vehicles traveling at 50 miles an hour...

the odds are stacked against her.

One lane down.

One more to go.

More trouble.

A raven.

These intelligent predators have a keen eye.

Saved... by a truck.

Sometimes, being little pays off.

Most hatchlings don't make it this far.

Having succeeded against the odds,

she is about to enter a completely different world.

8,000 miles away in South Africa,

the sun is setting over a vast acacia forest.

An old tree hollow

is home to a family of pint-sized nocturnal primates...

Mohol bush babies.

This ten-month-old male is waking up alongside his mum and twin sister.

They will soon set off to scour their territory

on the hunt for insects.

But it is winter,

and with the colder, drier weather,

food is becoming scarce.

His mum is also pregnant -

more than likely with twins again.

With more mouths to feed,

the territory cannot support them all.

Having done all that she can and with no other option,

his mother turns on him...

driving him away.

Now, all alone,

he must find a new home before he starves.

He needs around 200 unclaimed acacia trees

to create his own territory.

But first, he must find food to fuel his journey.

He has learnt from his mother where to find

an important winter food - acacia gum.

A large and reliable source

can be found half a mile away.

He must navigate through the dense forest to get there.

As he goes, he uses another skill he learnt from his mother -

to pee on his hands.

It is a way of scent-marking,

and the super sticky urine gives him grip.

A special membrane at the back of his eye

reflects and amplifies the moonlight,

helping him find his way in the dark.

He makes fast progress.

Bushbaby hind legs are super powered with stretchy tendons

and extra-large muscles.

They catapult him from tree to tree at two metres a second.

He's nearly made it to the acacia gum.

But after the moon sets, his vision is limited.

It is risky to keep going when he can't see.

His hearing is now all he has to keep himself safe from predators.

Bushbabies hear higher frequencies than humans,

a range that is perfectly attuned to detecting noises in the forest.

His enormous ears respond to every sound...

every creak...

as he tries to work out who is friend...

who is foe...

and what is food.

The coast appears to be clear,

and food is just one jump away.

Acacia gum is formed when a tree is cut or damaged...

as it releases sap to seal the wound.

It is a vital food source for bush babies during the winter months,

but it only provides three calories per gram.

He must lick a lot

if he is to replenish his dwindling energy levels.

He is distracted enough to let his guard down...

not wise...

when danger lurks in the shadows.

In Canada, the hatchling has made it across the road...

but she has entered a completely new environment.

An ancient deciduous forest lies between her and the lake.

With only six hours of daylight remaining,

it's a huge task to make it to the lake by nightfall.

Beech, maple and pine trees tower 45 metres above her.

Her minute body with its cumbersome shell

isn't adapted for this assault course.

But she is resilient.

Every time she falls over,

she uses her head to flip herself back.

Like her, the animals here have their own challenges

before winter sets in.

A pileated woodpecker feasts on as many Medeola berries as it can

before they become buried by the snow.

And chipmunks must stash up to 150 nuts a day

to feed on through the winter months.

But she won't need to eat until spring.

She's fuel led by the yolk she fed upon

when she was still inside her egg.

Although she might not be hungry,

she is at risk of being eaten.

There are plenty of predators here who would snatch her up...

50 the quicker she can get through the forest, the better.

Navigating in the forest is much harder with no obvious horizon.

If she could just get a little higher,

she might get a better view.

Digging in with her claws, she hauls herself to the top.

After getting her bearings,

she begins the descent -

not as easy to control.

Water - at last...

in a black bear's pawprint.

It gives her skin a welcome refresh,

but it's no substitute for the lake.

She must keep moving.

Time is still her biggest enemy.

Minutes, then hours, are ticking by.

The woods at night are no place for a miniature turtle.

She risks freezing to death

or being attacked by nocturnal predators.

It is vital she makes it to the lake by sunset.

But nightfall is just one hour away,

and the lake is nowhere to be seen.

Under a starlit sky in South Africa...

the young male bush baby is only half a mile into his journey

for a new home.

But, distracted by food,

he's left himself open to attack.

In these forests, for one so small,

danger lurks around every corner.

His scent has been picked up by a genet...

one of the few predators adept enough in the trees

to catch a bush baby.

Its flexible, slender body allows it to creep closer to its prey.

Its tail provides vital balance.

If it gets within striking distance,

it can kill with a single bite to the neck.

But it makes one tiny slip.

Saved by a super powered jump.

Using stored energy in his tendons,

the bush baby leaps 30 times his body length.

His rapid response has saved his life.

But he's now in a completely unfamiliar part of the forest.

An eerie glow in the distance...

and the unmistakable buzz of insects.

A light outside a remote bush lodge...

surrounded by his favourite food.

It draws him closer.

Being a nocturnal animal,

he is wary of the light.

But in winter, with insects harder to find,

this is a unique opportunity for the bush baby.

Hunger drives him on.

Moths not only provide the bush baby

with twice as many calories as acacia gum...

but also valuable protein to build and maintain his muscles.

The human world has given him an opportunity,

but it also brings new dangers.

Domestic dogs can kill bush babies.

It is too risky for him to stay here.

But he has made a connection between light and food.

And in the distance, there are more lights to explore.

The hatchling is three quarters of a mile into the forest...

struggling through the leaf litter...

with no sign of the lake yet.

Eight hours since she left her roadside nest,

and the sun is now setting.

And without its warmth, the temperature rapidly drops

and her pace slows.

She is out of time.

The sharp autumn frost could kill her...

if the nocturnal predators don't sniff her out first.

At ten degrees, her body temperature is dangerously low.

Instinct kicks in and she buries herself.

Using the leaf litter as a blanket,

it will keep her a few degrees warmer and hide her from predators.

It is her best chance of surviving the night.

A raccoon.

With dexterous paws,

it is skilled at finding food amongst the leaf litter.

Being an omnivore,

it isn't fussy about what it eats.

It just needs to pile on the pounds ahead of winter.

A turtle hatchling would be a welcome find.

But nuts are a great alternative source of protein.

The hatchling is safe...

for now.

In South Africa,

the bush baby has travelled across six miles of Acacia Forest

over three nights.

Having made a connection between light and food,

he is heading in a new direction...

towards the human world.

Delicious food is laid out for the taking...

including something he has never come across before - banana.

This is a safari lodge where all wildlife is welcome

to come and dine.

Not only that -

the owners have put up a specially-designed bush baby box.

Another bush baby.

And another.

A third.

He's stumbled into hostile territory.

An adult male rules this roost and has no intention

of letting another male onto his patch.

Once they notice him,

he'll be in trouble.

Their alarm calls are a warning for him to keep away.

But the lure of the sweet-smelling banana is too much to resist.

Having escaped, he takes his first bite of the stolen banana.

With so much sugar in it,

it is unlike anything he has tasted before.

Powered by this new rocket fuel,

he can continue his search for a new home.

Daybreak in Canada.

The hatchling's instinct to bury herself overnight has paid off.

Being cold-blooded,

she basks in the autumn sunshine.

She must warm up to at least 15 degrees

before she can continue with her journey.

There are signs she is close.

Little did she know last night

that she was only 15 metres from the lake.

But it still takes her half an hour to make it to the water.

This is Whitefish Lake.

Finally, she is somewhere she belongs.

No longer clumsy and slow,

her streamlined body and webbed feet enable her to glide

through the water,

much faster than when she was on land.

This could now be her home for the next 50 years or more.

But she hasn't reached the end of her journey just yet.

She now needs to find a spot in which to hibernate.

She heads towards the deeper, darker, cooler waters,

where she will be safe over the winter.

But she is not alone.

A moose has come to feed here.

The turtle is as small as its eye

and practically invisible amongst the pond weed.

She dives out of range.

But she must return to the surface one last time...

to take her last breath for five months...

before diving down to the bottom.

Here, the water won't freeze, even in the middle of winter.

But lurking down here are monsters 1,000 times her size.

Snapping turtles.

In these waters, they are the top predators...

and painted turtle hatchlings are on the menu.

For once, time is on her side.

At 15 degrees, snappers start to slow down

as their bodies prepare for hibernation.

It's becoming too cold for hunting little turtles.

She must hurry to find a good place to hibernate

before her body shuts down, too.

The cold water is already taking effect.

But hibernation will trigger even greater physiological changes.

The heart rate can drop as low as eight beats an hour...

and her metabolism will fall to just 10% of its usual rate.

She finds a sheltered spot.

She'll hibernate here for five months,

protected from the freezing temperatures at the surface...

only becoming active again when spring brings warmer weather.

And in 12 years, when she is sexually mature,

she'll venture back out of the lake to lay her own eggs...

a journey that may see her make the same perilous trip

through the woodland and across the road to the nesting grounds

along Highway 60.

Over the last few nights,

the bush baby has travelled five miles,

moving closer to the lights on the horizon.

But he still hasn't found a new territory.

Unbeknown to him...

the lights are those of a huge city.

Pretoria.

Home to nearly three million people.

In the suburbs,

local conservation groups have created a novel way

for bush babies to move between the surrounding patches of forest.

Ropes.

For this bush baby,

it is a new way to travel.

He catches a whiff of sweet-smelling banana...

the rocket fuel he first encountered at the safari lodge.

It has been left out by a bush baby-friendly resident.

He's unaware he is being watched.

A gang of city-savvy bush babies regularly feed on this balcony.

He may be driven away yet again.

But he can tell from their calls that they are friendly.

Instead of chasing him away,

this time they tolerate his presence...

even grooming him...

accepting him into their tribe...

something that would never happen in the wild acacia forests.

Although interactions with people, pets and vehicles

can be stressful for bush babies...

there is an abundance of food here.

And urban bush babies can weigh a quarter more

than their forest counterparts.

Because there is less competition,

their social system has adapted to be more welcoming to strangers

and unrelated bush babies band together

to form a different type of family.

The bush baby follows his new gang...

and they lead him deeper into the metropolis.

They are taking him to a secret location.

A place with 247 security...

fortified with high walls...

razor wire...

and CCTV.

The gang are undeterred.

This is somewhere worth breaking into.

Once inside...

he discovers what the gang have come to raid.

Pristine white bird of paradise flowers...

full of nutritious nectar and still blooming in the middle of winter.

Busted.

As they flee, he jumps past some familiar-looking animals...

and some less familiar.

This is Pretoria Zoo,

a 200-acre site in the middle of the city

where the gardens are watered year round,

giving the bush baby gang access to nectar,

even in the winter.

With sunrise fast approaching...

he joins his new bush baby gang

as they follow their urine scent trail home.

Located at the top of a huge palm tree,

their nest is quite the penthouse suite.

The male bush baby ventures inside.

Having travelled 15 miles from his natal home...

he has ended up in a very different place to where he grew up.

But finally, he has food on tap year round,

a new family and a new home.

Everything he could ever need.

To film the tiny animals featured in this series,

the Big Little Journeys team needed specialist camera technology.

And for the two animals in this episode,

very different approaches were needed.

Painted turtles and bush babies couldn't be more different.

Bushbabies are very unpredictable.

They're like ping-pong balls pinging from tree to tree.

You think they're going to land in a certain place,

and then they land somewhere completely different.

And then the painted turtles are incredibly slow-moving.

They only move when they want to move,

which is absolutely fair enough.

So they just go whichever way they want.

Arriving in South Africa,

the team set about filming the bush baby's journey first.

They are equipped with a five-metre long gyrostabilised camera crane.

It allows us to get into the bush baby's world,

up into the canopy and follow them smoothly,

as if we're travelling alongside them.

Such complex moves require two people.

One operates the crane, while the other controls the camera.

So, to be able to control the crane, I've got focus on this hand

and a joystick on this hand.

Thankfully, 15 years of playing computer games

are finally paying off.

It's quite a challenge trying to follow them

and sort of cross-coordinate all the different moves.

But once you get that shot

where the bush baby's moving, the camera's following it...

you can't beat that.

In Canada, getting into the painted turtles' world

presents the team with the opposite challenge

and requires a totally different camera set-up.

You get what we're getting, but as long as it's level this way.

We turned it upside down

so that we can actually push forward on the slider.

So this allows us to follow the turtle

as she goes through the undergrowth.

So, I can try...

But the team must constantly reset and re-level the rig

over and over again

in order to capture every stage of a turtle's journey.

In South Africa, bush babies are not the only animals

the crew need to watch out for.

There have been reports of lions in the area.

We're in the pitch-black filming,

you know, looking up in the trees for our bush babies

and not on the ground for lions.

So, it is a little bit stressful.

But the crew must keep filming,

as this is the peak time for bush baby activity.

Right now, it's super dark.

We can't see anything.

So we're using really low-light cameras

to suck in as much light as possible

into this world that the bush babies live in.

16 times more sensitive than human vision,

the cameras are able to see the world as if through the bush babies' eyes.

They're just so intriguing and so engaging to watch.

It's such an amazing challenge.

But just as the crew are making progress,

news comes in that the lions have been spotted

only 300 metres away.

Did you hear that?

We're filming the bush babies.

We kept hearing all these alarm calls.

The rangers have said, you know, it's getting a bit dodgy.

We've got some lovely shots, but we're just going to pull out now

and we think that's the safest decision.

The team retreat to the vehicle,

and once the lions move on, will carry on filming.

In Canada, despite the slow progress,

the turtle is finally nearing the lake.

The challenge is how to film the incredible moment

that the hatchling enters the water for the first time in her life.

Using a newly-developed Periscope probe lens,

the hatchling can be filmed as she travels from land into water.

There she comes.

Come on, little one! Whoops!

Nice.

The team can now capture the final chapter

in the hatchling's remarkable journey

as she tries to find somewhere to hibernate.

In Pretoria Zoo, to film the end of the bush baby's story,

the team need to work out how the gang are getting into the zoo.

We know that they're coming into the zoo

and they're feeding from the birds of paradise flowers,

so we're just popping up a camera trap.

That's great.

But this is a very long wall, so it's quite difficult to pick

the exact spot that they might be coming in.

It is over to camera operator Ben to apply some analytical thinking

to the situation.

Essentially, I've got to think that the bush baby's like a burglar

and they're breaking into the zoo.

I'm excited.

This is the thing about camera traps.

You never know what you're going to get,

and sometimes, it's disappointment.

Bushbaby! Bushbaby! AMY GASPS

whoa! That's cool.

Wow!

It means that we know genuinely this is how the bush babies

are breaking into the zoo and this has just proved it.

With knowledge of the bush babies' entry point,

the team are able to film the bush baby gang

as they jump around the zoo...

before retreating to their home deep in the urban jungle.

For the Big Little Journeys team,

it took specialist kit, perseverance

and a bit of luck to film these two very different animals

in their own unique worlds on their epic journeys.

Next time,

a pangolin in Taiwan

and a family of lion tamarins in Brazil

must travel through a land of giants to discover a new world

and a future for the next generation.