Hogmanay

I wandered around Edinburgh yesterday. For most of the time I was part of my first real tourist tour, which was fine but a little soulless. My guide was lovely, the sights to see were vaguely familiar, the stories interesting or morbid or both, but the group meandered like a nebulous and disinterested group of cows.

So when we were released I retraced my steps somewhat, and found an exhibition at the National Library on Robbie Burns. So, Scottish. And in Scotland. That was more of the type of thing I was looking for rather than tourist shops full of discount Cashmere tartans, beanies and scarves.

But the most interesting thing I found was completely by accident. I'd seen signs around all day for something called "Hogmanay", and I walked back down the Royal Mile from the castle at what I presume was the time of the day for these things to see vikings strolling the streets. With axes. To the strains of several hundred pipers.

Apparently every new year the Scots have a viking long-boat burning to get rid of all the evil from the last year. Taken from the time that they used to get a fairly thourough beating from their neighbours to the north.

These days they hand out torches (of fire) to the entire population of Edinburgh, and march down through the streets to the park, where the longboat is waiting to be reduced to cinders.

Although, you have to remember that I knew very little of this when I was confronted with pipers and barricades and crowd control people and viking warriors. I was helped instead by a lovely group of locals - two small Scottish children, their mother and her aunt and uncle - who had come to watch the parade. As the torches were lit and the crowds bellowed at the vikings and cheered on the pipers in procession, they went down the stairs to the long boat and I sprinted for my train.