Kilts, Bagpipes, and Highland Games

Nita and I just returned from our week-long automobile tour of Scotland—I drove a tiny car over 1,000 miles of narrow, curving roads, loving it. The scenery was spectacular, the little towns charming, the people cordial, the other drivers forgiving. And I did eat haggis once for lunch.

But for all the wide variety of landscapes and people, our day at the Gordon Castle Highland Games and Country Fair stands out. We sat on a hay bale for hours watching all the normal Highland games contests, plus a tug-o-war tournament, plus some spectacular bagpipe and drum marching bands, dancing Scottish girls, some fine modern Scottish music, parades of regal Gordon setters, and on and on.

And kilts. Check out the guy running the tug-o-war contests and these well-lubed fellows enjoying the band.

The tug o war pulls were almost still-life drama as both teams kept on the pressure waiting for the other team to slip or gasp or something. Each pull might last five minutes before once side was finally pulled over the line.

This little red-topped gal stole the show after her daddy took part in the tug o war competition.

The flying caber is one of the few we saw actually flip over high in the air and qualify. The pole is 18 feet long and weighs 150 pounds.

If I ever go back to a day of Highland Games in Scotland (fat chance), I’m first going to piss off Nita and spring for a kilt and all the trimmings, just so I can strut around in it all day, acting the part of The McBride of Family McBride.

 I hope someone will post a comment as to what the big green mushroom-ish looking things are. The Scots are a practical people is my hint.

Leaving the games behind, here’s some Scottish military connections from here and there. First is a dignified statue memorial to the WWII British Commandos. It’s on a mountain top in rugged Scotland because that’s where the newly-formed commando units trained.

Next are two trophies from the 1800's displayed in two Scottish regiments’ museums housed in castles we toured. First is a French Eagle captured in combat at Waterloo by a sergeant in the Royal Scots Grays Cavalry Regiment. That was a big deal.

Next is a a Zulu knobkerrie picked up on the battlefield by a private in a Highlander foot regiment. The Zulus were a nasty but worthy opponent, and this a nasty, but ornate, killing club.

Third is the grave marker for the heart of Robert the Bruce. The betraying clan  leader in the Brave Heart movie became the revered King of Scotland, and, yes, just his heart is buried here. Before he died, Bruce ordered his heart be removed and carried into the next battle with the army he’d led so his men would know that he had not abandoned them, even in death. The burial site is the now-ruined Abbey at Melrose.

The stone swine gargoyle high on the wall of the ruined Abbey overlooking Bruce’s buried heart is playing a bagpipe. Go figure.

Take the last two images as you will. I yam what I yam, and I see what I see.