Original subtitles

This is planet Earth.

And this is planet Earth. So is this.

And so is this, too, but a bit closer up.

On land and in ocean, there is an abundance of life,

without which this series would never have been commissioned.

Now, after 23 years of painstaking work,

we have finally edited it.

And you are watching it.

This is Round Planet

The Story of Everything.

If you edit out humans and boring stuff.

This is Africa.

In the shadow of the mighty Ol Doinyo Lengai volcano, an immense and fertile

grassland stretches 30,000 square kilometres across Tanzania and Kenya.

Oh! Where… where’s the producer

My script is… oh… don’t worry, don’t worry; I’ll just wing it.

I’ll wing it. Come on big boy, here we go.

The Serengeti. This vast and stunning landscape is home

to possibly more ungulates and cud munchers than anywhere else on the planet,

including shitloads of wildebeest.

This is the story of their epic migration.

A circle of life.

That’s not a metaphor; it’s an actual circle.

These prannies spend six months walking around in a circle.

This is "The Greatest Journey on Earth".

Hmm.

And what about our ancestors walking all that way from Africa, Tabitha?

Or when I did that fun run to Great Yarmouth?

This species are known as "brindled gnus".

Or "blue wildebeest".

Even though they are quite clearly brown.

It’s May.

The plains are verdant now, but they’ll soon die back,

and this mega herd of over a million wildebeest will have no choice

but to set off on a life and death journey:

an epic quest for grass.

Much like my cameraman, Garth Delaspong undertakes every Friday.

Still, he gets the job done. Most of the time.

A treacherous journey that will cover a thousand miles.

Oh, kilometres? Oh, yes, I see.

Yes, of course, we’re all European, now, aren't we?

Yeah. So that’s, uh... minus the cross, uh... times by four…

add the… and that’s… and that’s a lot of kilometres.

So the wildebeest need to get a certain number of steps in for the day.

My lovely wife’s always on at me about it.

I done it, darling!

I haven’t.

Over 200,000 jazzy zebras

and about half a million Thomson’s gazelles join the parade.

Oh, I've no idea who Thomson is either, but all his antelopes are loose.

Not all four-legged animals

on the Serengeti are on this relatively long walk.

These cheetahs and lions are staying behind to defend their territory.

To them, these animals are walking sausages.

And lions like sausages. So they are sad to see them go.

Back where the wildebeest started,

no gnus is good news for these quelea birds.

Very good.

They have gathered together to celebrate the start of the dry season.

Oh, talking of "dry", can I have a top

Tabby?

As the temperature rises, the arid land becomes laden with grass seed. To the queleas, the Serengeti is now the world’s biggest little old lady,

putting out infinite bird food.

The sky turns black with birds.

If you tried to count them, you'd go mad.

I know I am.

In what appears a defensive measure,

the tiny birds gather into the shape of larger animals.

A sky panther.

A horizon elephant.

Following the rain, the wildebeest take the scenic route across the plains.

But here in Africa, every route is a "scenic route".

Wildebeest do everything on the move.

Even mating.

To us, the male wildebeest all look the same.

And to a female wildebeest, they also all look the same.

So, to stand out from the crowd, they don’t pretend to like French cinema.

They get a bit fighty.

Like the last time me and Packham rumbled

at the Wildlife Presenter of the Year awards.

“Oh, look at me. I’m Chris Packham with my lovely hair.”

The only reason he didn’t win all the awards is because the last one

was for Female Wildlife Presenter of the Year.

And even then, he came second.

-Alright! I’ll get on with it.

The male wildebeest work hard to draw attention to themselves

and entice females onto their patch of turf.

Personally, my money’s on the one on the left.

Go on! Put some welly into it! In the nads. Yeah, that’s the stuff.

Oh, it’s really quite erotically charged.

Hmm.

With a twitch of her tail, the female signals to the male that he is in.

But he misses.

Well, we’ve all been there.

Yes, I... Better luck next time.

Not that I think there’ll be a next time once she’s told the rest of the girls.

Well, don’t worry, chap. Plenty more wildebeest on the Serengeti.

By June, the females are pregnant and the males exhausted.

And the ones that aren't are just awkwardly hanging around.

Meanwhile, back where the wildebeest started,

the dry season is now really starting to grip.

Boredom is setting in. Loneliness. Feelings of existential dread.

This giraffe is about to melt into a puddle of camouflage.

This young lion is hallucinating an ostrich.

Yeah, we’ve all been there too.

These acacia trees are one of the few bits of greenery in this barren landscape.

They are spiky and unpleasant, but these giraffes eat them all the same.

Their industrial strength teeth can grind up the thorns.

And with half-metre long tongues,

they can reach higher than any other animal in the Serengeti.

What? He’s going in for seconds?

Huh, he’s got neck. Down to his arse, it would seem.

It’s now September.

I mean, we call it "September", but wildebeest don’t really see it that way.

To them, it’s just another day.

Actually, they probably don’t think in days either.

Look, time has moved on, okay?

They’ve now been on the road for four months.

Okay, so that is longer than my fun run,

but the ancient humans still hold the record.

The great herd has now travelled hundreds of kilometres

and reached the northern limits of the Serengeti National Park.

Still following the scent of rain and the promise of fresh grass,

just in case you had forgotten.

Together, they get through 5,000 tons of grass everyday.

That could keep Garth going for about a month.

But as supplies run out, the wildebeest must trudge on.

Thankfully, to inject a bit of excitement into a quite long walk,

Mother Nature has put in a few life threatening challenges along the way.

Challenges like this: the mighty Mara River.

Okay, so you may have thought it was going to be a lot mightier than that.

Still, we’re not the ones who have to cross it on hoof.

The animals gather at the water’s edge,

where they wait…

and wait…

and… wait.

Oh, get on with it.

Finally, one of the wildebeests shouts, “Last one in is a Thomson’s gazelle!”

And they all take the plunge.

D'aw, it’s lovely once you're in. Except for the crocodiles.

Yes, this is a wildebeest film, so the crocodile’s a baddie today.

Boo to the crocodile.

Six metres long, nearly a ton of pure muscle, the deadliest handbag on earth.

The crocs take a few thousand wildebeest, but all the ones that you saw earlier,

that you emotionally bonded with, they're just fine.

Off they trot!

Ah. Vultures.

Nature’s dustmen. Or… "refuse operatives",

I suppose you have to call them these days if you're being P.C.

Which I absolutely am, Tabitha! Don’t worry.

Vultures ride the thermals above the grasslands,

scanning the ground for misery, like Mother Nature’s tabloid hacks.

You know who you are.

Thanks to disease, old age, exhaustion, and quite possibly boredom,

a fair few wildebeest give up on this never-ending roadless road trip.

Most people think of vultures as skinhead butchers with wings.

But they are as beautiful as eagles if you ask me.

And you don’t want a big, furry head when you are neck-deep in antelope.

It'll be a terrible mess, like a bearded hipster eating porridge.

The acid in these birds’ stomachs

is so strong it can kill off anthrax and even rabies.

Yeah, if you're popping out, Tabs, would you mind getting me a couple of cans?

I don’t mind what, just as long as it has “special” in the name.

Hyenas also help with the Serengeti clean-up.

Oh, where’s the next page?

Uh… ah… right, yeah, well, that… oh… that must have been the one that… got splashed.

Ah! Hyenas are… oh.

Here, the clouds are fast, but the ground is dry.

It hasn’t rained for months.

Not here in Bristol. It’s been perfectly miserabubble all week…

But there, in the southern Serengeti,

where the wildebeest started from.

The plains they left behind are now completely parched.

It’s as dry as a rich tea biscuit.

So dry that a fire has spread.

A totally 100 percent natural and not at all man-made fire, like the one

that destroyed my filing cabinet when I was being investigated by Revenue.

Sorry, where was I?

What… what have you got there, Tabitha?

-No, that’s non-alcoholic lager.

I'm not accepting that.

I see what you're trying to do here; I’m not gonna stand for it.

As quickly as it started, it slowly finishes.

The fire has destroyed the vegetation,

which the lions used for cover when hunting.

And they are totally… well, nothing… they’re lions; they’ll…

they take it on their gazelle-stained chins.

Their chances of stalking prey now are slimmer than this hungry lion cub.

As desperiation sets in, much like the end of a disco

just before the lights come up, they start to consider anything on offer.

Even the ugly animals, like this crazy pig-thing.

That’s a warthog. And it’s wandered right onto the plate of the Serengeti.

But first, the lions have to catch him.

This won't be easy.

Oh, it was.

The beautiful lions easily overcome the ugly pig.

Nature is cruel but fair. But mainly cruel.

Fine, I’ll have a strong black coffee then.

On the horizon, the storm clouds begin to gather.

It’s time for the giraffes to bring their washing in.

And the impala get a much needed hair wash.

This lion is now so hungry, it’s even thinking about eating this tortoise.

The tortoise doesn't seem particularly keen on the idea.

At first, he tries to lick the tortoise open.

It’s this type of scene that really makes you appreciate opposable thumbs

and the invention of the tin opener.

But the lions get the last laugh, leaving the tortoise flailing on his back.

Like Cameraman Garth in that bar in Kinshasa.

This could go on for ages.

And the lions just watch.

Maybe they're enjoying it.

Perhaps if there was nothing else to look at but grass,

this is what passes for entertainment here.

They just watch.

But to be honest, I’m just watching it as well. And so are you.

[pleasant music

Thanks to the rain, the brown land is green again.

It’s November.

And having avoided all of the droughts,

crocodiles, fire and boredom, look who’s back.

After their six-month trip round the Serengeti roundabout,

the immense herd returns. It will take weeks for them all to arrive.

An epic journey of 1,000 miles…

Oh, metric, right. Uh…

An epic journey of 1,236 point four kilometres has come to an end.

Exactly where it began.

What a massive relief.

Oh, that’s nice.

Talk about back down to earth.

Everyday, the newly returned wildebeest deposit over 2,000 tons of dung.

You may be wondering how we know that.

Well, it was another job for Researcher Lily Butterworth.

Using nothing but a set of kitchen scales,

she tirelessly spent months weighing every new deposit to bring you that fact.

That’s public service broadcasting at its best.

These are dung beetles.

They have nature’s crappiest job, and they absolutely love it.

They have the most exquisitely acute sense of smell

and use it to hone in on the scent of gnu poo.

They hone in on the aroma.

This dung beetle uses its mandibles to manipulate the feces,

ingest it, and extract the nourishment.

They make short work of the dung.

In the process, they're actually helping the wildebeest out,

disposing of a breeding ground for flies and disease.

But not everyone is here for a sit down, all-you-can-eat buffet.

Some want their dung to go.

These beetles are rolling the unpromising material into shape,

to create their very own fecal feature.

Once formed, the beetles then roll it backwards.

Until they find a patch of soft earth.

There, they bury it in the ground as a food reserve,

fertilising the soil at the same time.

Genius.

To the dung beetle, rolling and working... rolling and working,

every one of these that he makes is a magnificent achievement.

Unlike someone approaching his fourth decade in broadcasting,

the dung beetle does not question why he keeps doing it.

He just keeps rolling them out.

More balls. More balls!

A great... big... load... of… balls.

While these little poo bugs do their bit to fertilise the land,

the soil is also enhanced by the area’s volcanic activity.

Mineral-rich ash makes for nutritious grass.

The fresh new shoots are an accompaniment to other new life.

The herds have planned their arrival just in time for calving season.

Almost 400,000 baby wildebeest and zebra are born in a three-week window.

Well, looks like they’ve ballsed up the diary if you ask me.

There must be chaos.

Good lord!

That looks exactly like Marmalade, our old red setter.

Darling, when the coffee comes, can you put a drop of something nice in it for me?

Thank you, darling.

Technically, the calves are meant to be up on their feet

and able to run minutes after birth, but this one’s making a right hash of it.

But it needs a drink badly.

And if it wants a drink, it will have to stand.

I remember saying much the same thing to the head of BBC Two

at The Secret Life of Badgers wrap party.

Still, at least it will get a drink.

Not all of us can say that, can they, Tabs?

No sooner has the infant wildebeest learned to stand,

than it needs to learn to run because the leopard is here.

The… I mean, I mean, the cheetah.

Sorry, Tabby, can you pass me my glasses, love?

They… they both look the same from here.

Thank you.

Because the cheetah is here. Here is the cheetah.

She too has cleverly timed her cubs’ arrival for when food is abundant.

This herd burglar has bagged a baby wildebeest for her offspring.

But they don’t look very impressed.

"Oh, try it. You might like it if you try it."

Go on.

It’ll put hairs on your chest.

Ha. Oh.

So the circle has come… uh… full circle.

The great herd has returned, and with them, a new generation.

Something the cheetahs and lions are very happy about.

Once again, the plains team with irrepressible life.

But this story isn't over.

Like Top Gear repeats, it will soon begin all over again.

And again. Repeated for evermore.

On the magnificent Round Planet,

this wonderful life rolls on.

Right, pub? What do you mean, "Making Of"?

Oh… fine.

Thought you'd turned off now anyway.

Using helicopters to provide stunning aerial photography like this

is outrageously expensive and not without its difficulties.

Sound communication between the ground and the air is vital to secure the shot.

Something which proved problematic on the Serengeti shoot.

The Jeep walkie talkies failed.

Turns out Cameraman Garth had used the batteries for his coffee machine,

leaving Researcher Lily Butterworth abandoned out on the plains.

Dedicated as ever to the cause, she followed her last instruction:

to turn right without question.

When she was found, she had been driving in a circle for three weeks.

But it’s challenges like this that our team endure to bring you closer

to the Round Planet.

Right, really, we are going to the pub now.