by Chris Harris
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching Banjo and Ro’s Grand Island Hotel on BBC Scotland. It’s beautifully filmed, Banjo and Ro are engaging, and their enthusiasm for breathing new life into a neglected historic building is infectious. Watching them tackle the enormous challenges of restoring Ulva House on the Isle of Ulva has made for compelling, well-produced television. I’ve also converted a 15th-century listed building and have dealt in vintage furniture and effects all my life. I therefore appreciate the scale of the project and the outstanding interior design. And the reality of the costs.
But there is one aspect of the programme that I simply cannot reconcile with reality: the repeated impression that this vast restoration is being achieved for just £150,000. Banjo and Ro have consistently said that they invested their own £150,000 in the project. That much appears to be true, but throughout the series, the frankly annoying inference that ruined it for me is that they are doing this all on a shoestring budget. We are left with the impression that this is the total cost of transforming a derelict, 27-room Category B listed mansion into a luxury boutique hotel.
It clearly isn’t. Earlier on, when doing the background on the funding, we were told there had been previous funding or grants. But this is not good enough. There is an obfuscation throughout about this money, a skimming over of the important previous money spent or committed to the project from other sources, which, financially, was the most important part of the project. Instead, we are just left with Banjo and Ro sucking in their teeth about how their money is running out. The financing aspect seemed to have a cost focus of 95% on their side of, maybe 7-8% of the funding from Banjo and Ro and vice versa.
There are no definitive figures, no cost breakdown, and no information on things like roofing. Structural repairs? Just the relentless £150.000 from Banjo and Ro. Although their contribution to what must have been a well in excess of £2-million project is clearly small. It is suggestive throughout that every piece of work was paid for out of their £150,000 budget which, do the maths, is impossible and surely was paid for by other funding. They never identify specifically who pays for what, thus drawing the conclusion they are mainly funding the work.
The community trust that owns Ulva House has published details explaining that, before Banjo and Ro even began their work, there had already been years of planning, surveys and substantial investment. Almost £1.5 million had previously been secured for an earlier heritage project before escalating construction costs forced a change of direction. The trust itself also funded essential works, including asbestos removal, roof repairs and reconnecting the electricity supply, before handing the building over under a long-term lease. But no specifics are given, no we are none the wiser as to what Banjo and Ro funded, so we cannot make a correct judgment on the real jeopardy they have put themselves under with the project.
Surely there would have been an agreement between Banjo and Ro, the producers, and the community trust as to what the pair’s liabilities on the project were, but telling us they clearly decided would spoil a good yarn. But not telling us ruined the yarn for anyone with an inquisitive mind.
The trust have seemed elsewhere to make clear that Banjo and Ro are responsible for the remaining internal and external works and the hotel fit-out, while the project has benefited from funding bodies, practical support and even free freight transport from commercial partners.
I think therefore it is the case that Banjo and Ro are basically only paying for the fit out and decoration, or to put it bluntly, the interior design.
None of this is intended as criticism of Banjo or Ro. They have clearly worked incredibly hard, taken considerable financial risks and helped bring an important community asset back towards productive use. Of course, they have been frugal, called in favours and naturally got ‘mates rates’ from companies keen to promote themselves and volunteer labour. These are the interesting aspects that add the ‘jeopardy’ and make it look interesting, hiding behind the true extent of the funding cancels that all out. Their vision deserves genuine admiration. My criticism is aimed at television storytelling.
The hotel itself, now trading as Ulva House – The Grand Island Hotel, looks magnificent and promises to become a major attraction for the Isle of Ulva and the wider Hebrides. I genuinely hope it succeeds.
The story is already remarkable without requiring viewers to believe that £150,000 somehow stretched to cover what, in reality, appears to have been a multi-million-pound collaborative effort.
I hope that in series 2, they are more open. Series I is three-star viewing because of the opaque nature of the funding. Whilst the presentation, production values, and aesthetics are superb, the programme was ruined for me by a lack of proper transparency about funding, leaving a big hole in the series’ premise, which was misleading.
I hope series 2 is the five-star telly it could so easily be, by being less disingenuous with the funding and bringing more transparency to the story.
#Grand Island Hotel #Bamjo & Ro #Ulva #Ulva Hotel #BBC
