Edinburgh gathering - 2009

[Stratherrick]

My plan is to go into the likes of the Bow Bar and Deacon Brodie's, say, between about 3-5pm tomorrow and shout out, "Is there anybody here from X Marks the Scot!"

I hope I get a response!

Cheers

Bruce

[shagger999uk]

Hullo all;

Got back about an hour or so ago - had a great time and met some x-markers! I only recently joined the Clan Home Association and they gave me the honour of bearing their banner on the march up the Royal Mile to the pageant:



I'm staring into the sun, hence the face (well, the grimace anyway)

[cessna152towser]

Well done that man, carry the banner with pride.

[shagger999uk]

Heh. Just noticed this forum doesn't re-size pictures automatically. I'll change the link to a slightly smaller one!

[Chas]

Hullo all;

Got back about an hour or so ago - had a great time and met some x-markers! I only recently joined the Clan Home Association and they gave me the honour of bearing their banner on the march up the Royal Mile to the pageant:

I'm staring into the sun, hence the face (well, the grimace anyway)

I am so jealous of all those who could attend The Gathering. Just a quick question Steve, Were there many others queueing up to be the Banner Bearer?

Regards

Chas

[Stratherrick]

Well, for those that couldn’t make it, here are my memories of the Saturday at The Gathering. I couldn’t make it on the Sunday as it was one of my daughters 18th birthday and I had other plans to uphold.

We set off, myself, my wife, another daughter, my youngest son and, finally, a friend, a Scott from Lagos, Nigeria. It was about 9.30 in the morning and the weather was set fair. As we drove up the 100 miles north on the A1, we put on some music to get our mood going – Alasdair Fraser on his fiddle, The Proclaimers, Runrig, you can see where I’m coming from! Soon, the city lay ahead and we drove in through Portobello and Leith and parked up in Meadowbank. As a family, we got out of the car and added our colour to the throngs in their kilts and tartan skirts.

Our stream that wound its way towards Holyrood Palace, joined the one coming down The Mile which became a river heading along the base of the hills and glens of Arthur’s Seat, the backdrop to the festival site. And what a site! On entering we saw a panorama that took your breath away. The white pinnacles of the clan tents; the arena for the Highland Games; various size stages for the musical entertainment and craft stalls a-plenty. And the crowds, the crowds – Scots returnees from the USA, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, all destinations for those that had ventured in past generations, either as victims of circumstance or adventurers moving away from their homeland. More unexpectedly were visitors from other parts, from Europe in particular, our near neighbours – I met folk from France, Italy, Belgium and Germany.

As we walked across Holyrood Park, we took part in everything on offer. Whisky tasting, that didn’t take much talking into! Watching the games, with both heavies and strong men testing themselves. The darling dancers, their kilts flying as they twirled and stepped to the tunes. And then to the clan village. I sought and found the Lovat Fraser tent, shook some hands and then signed the memorial book. I ate some of the whisky-laced fudge being given out, as well as a large strawberry, a symbol on the clan badge. There was another Fraser tent, for the smaller branch of Saltoun Frasers, which I dropped by to show my respects. All ‘round were the chiefs of the clans with their three feathers standing tall from their headgear.

Late in the afternoon, on the main stage the Red Hot Chilli Pipers got the crowd going as the whisky and the chattering flowed. I bumped into a fellow Lovat Fraser in the same Hunting Fraser kilt, Stephen, latterly from Paisley, originally fae Thurso in the far north. We exchanged a glass of malt and a backslap and promised never to forget our meeting. And then, our thoughts turned to the evening. We headed out towards the Old Town, arm in arm knowing that the best was yet to come.

In a restaurant on Canongate, I shook more hands, this time with families from the Carolinas, Atlanta, Georgia, New York, Texas, there were so many! One funny thing was hearing how the Southerners had had to explain to folks back home how going to a clan gathering meant something different on this side of the pond! Then, bellies full, we moved to the watering hole known as Deacon Brodie’s, a prime spot on the parade route. A few beers and whiskies later, a shout came in through the door, “they’re coming, they’re coming!”

As we squeezed through to get a good spot, a hush fell in the warm Edinburgh air. And then, quietly at first, but building to a roar, we heard the crowds erupt as it began, the greatest gathering of the clans since Culloden! Pipes and drums, banners and flags and then thousands upon thousands were winding their way up the hill into history. As each clan marched past, chests puffed out with pride, we all cheered and waved. As the Frasers came by, I rushed forward to shake hands and hug my fellows. For two, long hours the parade headed on by. The city had not seen anything like it for centuries.

And then, as those with tickets moved on by to the Esplanade and the pageant, the rest of us stood in wonder at what we had just witnessed. A presidential inauguration it was not, great funerals the city had seen before, but this, this was a gathering of Scotland’s people. I had one thing left to do.

As my family stepped wearily into a taxi, I decided to walk back alone to my car. I swished my way back down towards the Scottish Parliament. As I walked through all the happiness and sharing, I looked back in my mind on the day. I recalled some highlights – the look of joy on the face of the beautiful red-haired five year-old girl who had won her first dancing medal; the meetings of long-lost family members from across the globe; the Scottish diaspora on home soil once again. But one memory lingers, and will remain the longest. Here it is...

As the parade was nearing its end, I spotted an older woman struggling up the cobbled streets of The Mile. It had been a long day and, even though the pageant awaited, she was finding it hard to cover the final few yards. Still, she plodded on, enjoying the moments as she passed by the cheering crowds. In her right hand she held a small Canadian flag. She waved it occasionally, proud to identify herself on behalf of all those that couldn’t be there from her land far away. But, just as she was passing me, she stopped. At first, I thought she was just taking another break. It’s a long climb up that hill, even if you’re young and fit. She must have been in her 70s or 80s. Then, slowly at first, tears began to flow down her cheeks. These weren’t tears of pain or anguish, they were undoubtedly tears of joy, joy at the realisation that she was part of history that day. In moments, she was shaking and sobbing with the emotion of it all. I leaned forward and gave her a huge bear hug and whispered in her ear, “welcome home, welcome home”, and home she was...

Slainte to all my fellow X Markers.

Bruce

[Lily]

I,m back home too, but missed all the guys.
Couldn,t make it fridaynight cause I only got 2 hours of sleep the night before.
Been to the gathering on saturday, was just a few yards away from Charles and Camilla, had the honour of being Urquhart girl for the day and we got a very nice small ribbon in the clan colors..............( it,s still on my jeansjacket) the que for the talisker tent was too long to get in line especially when you don,t drink whisky.................
had an appoinment at the mill for more pieces of different tartans( want to make another tartan quilt) saw the march,got almost into a fight with a bleep Frenchman about my cigaret,after the march we went to the castle arms but not for long.
And no, seen nobody there either...............it would have been better if we all had name tags.
Sunday my sis and I went for a little boattrip on the river Forth, spend more money, had dinner in the castle arms and went home to the hotel.
Have some pics will show them later, tried to film the march but held the (photo)camera wrong so if we want to look at the films we have to turn the pc screen on his side
Today we did our last shopping ( that is for this weekend) and then of to the airport.

[AcuteEnigma]

I realized today that my flight home is one day later than I had thought it was. I have been staying at the University of Edinburgh dorms at Pollock Halls and I was wondering how to find something similar closer to, but not in, London.

Something along the train route.

Anyone know of a place? Travelocity doesn't seem to cover those kinds of places.

help!

Thank you!
Julie

[Stratherrick]

Where are you flying back from?

Bruce

[AcuteEnigma]

My flight goes out of Heathrow but I don't want to stay in London as London is so very expensive for what you get. I don't mind paying $150 for a really nice room, but $150 in London gets you a scary, not quite clean room in a questionable part of town.

I found a room at the University of London in Surrey and almost booked it until I saw the "notice" about how it was on the 5th floor and no elevator.
uh.....no. Not with a full suitcase.