Clans come together to wave off the Chieftan

A special ceremony leaves Fiona with nothing less than an oak tree, which the MacGregor needs to wrestle through Edinburgh

We know Scots are well used to tossing a caber or two before breakfast. But try carrying a six-foot tree through the streets of Edinburgh…

We attend a black-tie dinner in the capital. It is to mark the MacGregor stepping down from running the Standing Council of Scottish Chiefs.

For the past eight years he has been spokesman for more than 100 clan chiefs – and this is the send-off.

It is all very chiefly with smoked salmon, sides of beef and tartan on the menu. There are speeches and toasts. Then there is the presentation.

Warm words come with an interesting present. It is an oak tree. Which is apt because it features on the MacGregor coat of arms.

The clan adopted this symbol because legend has it a king was being threatened by a wild boar until one of the name uprooted a tree and used it to beat off the beast.

It is a romantic tale. And such stories are numerous in the clan world.

The Turnbulls are so-called because someone allegedly saved a king who was in danger of being attacked by a bull. Rumour has it that we, too, got our name when we played our part in saving a sovereign.

HRH had fallen from his horse in a battle when a commoner lifted him up and put him back in the saddle. “From now on, you shall be known as Armstrong” – or so the story goes…

And so it goes on in Scotland. And so we went on. The morning after the night before, rather blearily carrying the thing down Princes Street.

The chief struggling under the weight and trying to avoid decapitating people. Me walking several paces ahead and trying to pretend I wasn’t with him.

You get some funny looks when you go into Waverley station bearing a giant bush in one hand and a suitcase in the other. At least it is a striking bush. Or will be. When the leaves appear later in the year we are reliably informed they should be tinged with red.

Now we just need to decide where to plant this very kind present. More wood appears later in the week when I meet the Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland at a service.

The Right Rev Dr Derek Browning is an interesting man. He has worked with churches and schools in Fife and been

You get some funny looks when you go into Waverley station bearing a giant busg

honorary chaplain to the Fife and Forfar Yeomanry.

Now he cares for his flock in Edinburgh – and as Moderator is travelling around the country to visit other parishes. He gives me a small wooden cross. It is made from an olive tree from the Holy Land and is strangely comforting.

Light in colour and silky smooth, it fits into the palm of the hand. Rather like a set of worry beads, you can stroke it in times of stress.

Which may be useful when we attempt to put that oak tree into the ground…