GRAND TOURS OF THE SCOTTISH ISLANDS, BBC2, 8pm
PAUL Murton returns with a new series where he dons a woolly hat and sensible jacket and explores the Scottish islands.

He starts on Berneray which is uncannily beautiful. It’s so beautiful, in fact, that the Thai tourist board used photos of its gorgeous white beaches.

“The cheek!”

The island’s name means “Bear Island”. Initially, I thought Murton was saying “bare” island, in that the wind means there are no trees, but he was talking about the teddy variety and it’s a reminder of the range of wildlife we used to have.

But we leave bears and deal with lambs instead.

Land is so precious that grazing space can’t be spared, so the sheep are taken on a cruise each day so they might feed on a nearby uninhabited island.

The farmers are on their guard during the crossing because “if one jumps over they’ll all jump over,”

and your heart will be in your mouth when one lamb does make a break for freedom and leaps over the side.

GREAT CANAL JOURNEYS, C4, 8pm
HEN the Scottish landscape is shown on TV, it tends to be about mountains, islands and lochs.

Now there’s enough fine scenery and adventure there to fill several series, but it’s nice to remember there are other lovely features in our country, such as the often neglected canals. Having once lived in Maryhill, the word “canal” suggests rusty trolleys and wee neds to me, but this episode shows there are nicer stretches of water, such as the Caledonian Canal.

Prunella Scales and Timothy West sail down the Caledonian, which goes through the Great Glen, running from the North Sea to the Atlantic, and their journey takes them through 29 different canal locks – with not an ASDA trolley in sight.

Canal boats are very sedate and leisurely so they often seem reserved for old folk, but it makes sense to journey slowly when you are travelling through areas of great beauty. Why would you rush?

Sunday, February 18

SS-GB, BBC1, 9pm
THERE has been a great fuss about this new drama, but I’ll admit I was a little disappointed in it.

It’s set in London in 1941. Germany has won the Battle of Britain and the country is now under Nazi occupation, but the war is still raging and there’s an active Resistance.

It opens with a fantastically sinister scene where The Mall and a ruined Buckingham Palace are hung with swastikas, and the last remaining Spitfire is being presented to Goering at a victory ceremony.

The stage is set for a horrifying alternative history, but then the show shuffles offstage and becomes just another crime drama.

Douglas is a Scotland Yard detective, sleeping with his secretary at “the Fritz Ritz”, when he’s called to a murder in an antique shop. It looks like a simple black-market transaction gone wrong, but then an SS intelligence officer is flown in from Berlin to join the case, and a pretty American journalist (naturally) is also sniffing around.

Yes, it’s atmospheric and stylish, but, so far, it feels like a missed opportunity.

TOM WAITS: TALES FROM A CRACKED JUKEBOX, BBC4, 9pm
I CANNOT stand the sound of Tom Waits’s voice, so gravelly, groany and rough, but his lyrics are brilliant. My favourite is the maddening song: What’s He Building In There? It’s about his creepy neighbour who’s always hammering and sawing at the dead of night: “I’ll tell you one thing/ He’s not building a playhouse for the children.”

And: “There’s poison underneath the sink of course/But there’s also enough formaldehyde to choke a horse.” Oh what’s he building in there?

This documentary celebrates the strange genius of Tom Waits, and features contributions from famous fans such as Ian Rankin and Terry Gilliam. His fans are protective of his legacy; try telling one of them that Downtown Train is a fine Rod Stewart song.

It shows how Waits has never cared for fashion, writing songs on every topic and in every genre and we’re taken on a trip through the “surreal, moonlit” world of his music.

In a world of synthetic pop, let’s seek refuge in Tom Waits – even if he makes you ache for Benylin.