The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
How White House incident left us both red-faced
As Tartan Week begins in the US, Fiona remembers the last time she visited for the celebrations and almost didn’t return home...
The chief is in Washington for Tartan Week celebrations. The MacGregor is attending an American/Scottish conference and is preaching about plaid.
We debate things before he goes. Tartan is a visible symbol of Scotland. This multi-coloured cloth has been around a long time.
It is said to have been worn in Roman times, and was certainly seen at court in the Middle Ages. Tartan was flaunted in 1745 by Bonnie Prince Charlie’s rebellious Jacobites. The British then banned it – only to adopt it for their own Scottish regiments.
Tartan was further popularised by plaid-mad people like the romantic novelist Walter Scott and the Highlandaddicted Queen Victoria.
So tartan is not inauthentic. But the vivid uniforms paraded by today’s massed piped bands; the silver-adorned kilts and extravagant sporrans seen at vast Highland gatherings must exceed anything the British monarch or the Bard of Abbotsford ever dreamed of.
Washington, DC is an exciting city, with or without extra colour. In fact, it is so racy that the last time I was there I had my passport pinched. It was at the top of a hotel on one of those ritzy avenues. This, we were told, was the best place to see the White House. And so it was but, unfortunately, I was too caught up in the view to watch my bag properly.
Anyway, it was all very inconvenient – especially as we were due to fly back home that same day. We hot-footed it to the British embassy to try to get a replacement.
They were about to close. However, they said they could issue a temporary document but that I would need a photo – and I would need it within the next half-hour.
We hailed a yellow cab and set off to the nearest chemist, barging apologetically to the front of the queue and demanding to be served.
We were told to get back in line. A nerve-wracking quarter of an hour passed while folk in front of us asked for haemorrhoid cream and other trivial medicaments.
Did they not realise I had a plane to catch?!
Eventually the small image was in my hot little hand. We made it back to the embassy with five minutes to spare.
At least I got home. Another week in America’s capital would have well and truly emptied the family wallet.
Another week in America’s capital would have well and truly emptied the family wallet
Washington, DC is fascinating but not cheap. Yes, the MacGregor will have to dig deep into his sporran this week. For he is giving his presentation in his kilt.
He texts to say it is all going well and that he has just had four eggs overeasy and a pot of caw-fee for breakfast. Whatever else he does across the pond, going hungry will not be an issue.
I, meanwhile, am holding the fort. Yesterday we had a power cut, so the MacNaughties and I went on a lengthy hike across the fields. When we got back I found the wind-up radio and we snuggled in by the fire...