Memories flooding back here. I have an unfinished love affair with Scotland. My father was stationed at Durness, way up north during World War II, he loved the area and anything scottish. He actually taught himself to play the chanter and moved on to the highland pipes in his 40s. He joined the Teeside Caladonian Pipeband and we went to many events with him. He had a heart attack while playing in one of the border towns and that put a stop to the highland pipes...he built his own northumbrian pipe with the bellows afterwards.
I love Oldshoremore and Kinlochbervie...anybody been there? The most fantastic scenery you can imagine. Still hope to go back one day...I live in Scandanavia now. We were assigned to Edinburgh conventions for many years even though we lived in the north of England. I loved going to Murrayfield Rugby grounds because we got to go to dance in the gardens on an evening. The scots are lovely people, the Jws are strict there...calvinists really. I have memories of rain, wind and floods at the camping site we used for the convention. One evening the whole tent came down on our heads, we were soaked through. Those were the days.
I still get emotional if I hear the pipes played. We were in Sweden in the summer and the Gothenburg Pipeband were playing...tears were rolling down my cheeks. My kids just laugh, they haven't experienced the stuff I have (thank goodness!). Some one on the whisky thread mentioned first footing, my father used to play in the New Year and was all dressed in his regalia and the whole street would follow him around while he went to each door. (Wierd because we were not allowed to do it really as witnesses, but my Dad was never really IN, he did his own thing, we tried to keep away, but secretly I loved to watch and see him).
