Drumtochty Highland Games, Aberdeenshire, Scotland

Standing in the field, the grass soft under my bare feet, I get ready to run. I see my family; sitting on the fresh hay bales laid around the arena, my sister absent as she tightens the skin of her tenor drum somewhere behind the shows colourful facade.

Here at the Drumtochty Highland games in northern Scotland, everything is how it should be. The smell of wet grass overrides that of cooking meat, and the solitary bagpiper pacing the competition line drowns out the groans from the tug of war teams competing in the field.

Toss the caber, high jump, long jump, 400 metres, 800 metres, shot put. Walking through the scramble of events, the starters guns pointed to the sky and the kilt-clad judges like moth-ridden vultures, I feel very glad to be Scottish. To be part of this event that could be taking place a hundred years ago, that is special to me.


Suddenly, as I wait for my moment, the crowd’s attention is drawn, suddenly and hypnotically, to a brightly bannered entrance carved in-between the dark yellow bales.

It is not a band that emerges into the field, but a fearsome gang of kilted figures, their blood red cockades rising far above the crowd. Together dozens of pipes sing out at once, their melody haunting and ancient, the hairs on my mothers neck standing straight out. Leading the procession are the pipe majors, their batons and uniforms gilt and gaudy, epaulets and outrageous facial hair in full display. Moving smartly behind come the pipers and drummers, the latter beating staccato rhythms in time with their own marching feet.

Dotted through the procession are smaller figures in blue kilt jackets, the tops of their heads in line with the other players shoulders. My sister flits to and from my sight, occasionally lost behind massive swaths of tartan and serious pipers, concentrating as without her glasses she struggles to navigate the arena. It is something to be proud of, these twelve year olds, scowls of concentration, marching on parade, fearsome just by the sounds they create.