Scotland is marvellous.
It's a country of mountains and lakes, and everything I saw in my few days
there was, without exception, beautiful.
I am not exaggerating and I can say this even though[1], from
the minute Martin and I left Edinburgh, the weather was terrible.
It rained and rained, and then when the rain stopped, it rained again.
As we drove north, Martin started to tell me a few things about Scotland.
He didn't want me to think about the rain!
"Did you know that Scotland includes 787 islands?" he asked me.
"No, I didn't," I answered, looking out of the window at the grey
sky, the dark grey clouds and the rain.
"Yes, and only 62 of the islands are bigger than five square
kilometres," he added.
"Hmm, do you think the rain will stop soon?" I asked.
"I hope so.
We'll go to Dunkeld first.
They've got their Highland Games on at the moment."
The rain was getting worse and I couldn't see the car in front of us.
The mountains in the distance had disappeared.
Antonio, you're not listening, are you?
Stop worrying about the rain.
I was going to tell you about the Highland Games, but you're obviously not
interested."
"I'm sorry, Martin.
Of course I'm interested.
What are the Games?"
"They're a competition of the traditional Scottish sports," he
explained.
"But you do sports outside.
Won't they be cancelled if it's raining?" I asked.
"No.This is Scotland, not Andalucia!
If we canceled something every time we had bad weather, we'd never do
anything!"
Of course, Martin was right.
We parked the car outside the pretty town of Dunkeld and walked out to the
field where the competition was being held.
There were hundreds of different-cloured umbrellas and everyone was wearing a
raincoat - everyone except the competitors (who were mostly men).
"People really wear kilts!" I exclaimed.
"Of course they do, but not every day!" laughed Martin.
"Men have worn kilts since the end of the 1700s.
Women also wear kilts sometimes.
I wear one on special occasions, for a wedding, or something like that."
"You wear a skirt?!" I exclaimed.
"No, Antonio.
I don't wear a skirt, I wear a kilt.
The kilt is a symbol of Scottish nationalism, the same as tartan."
"What's tartan?" I asked him..
"It's the special pattern in the material that kilts are made from - the
material with the different-coloured squares.
Some of them are officially recognised and some aren't.
Historically, every “clan” or family has its own pattern.
For example, the Gordon clan has a tartan, the MacDonald clan has a different
tartan and ... Look!"
Martin pointed to the corner of the field.
There was a man with what looked like a tree trunk in his arms!
"What's he doing that tree?" I asked.
"It's not a tree," he said.
Imagine the face of a clock on the ground.
Each competitors stands in the middle of 'clock', lifts the caber vertically
and puts it on his shoulder.
Most of them consisted of throwing something heavy.
There were also some women competing, but they didn't have problems because
obviously, these games require skill[9] as
well as strength.
"Come on!" said Martin.
"You've got to try some haggis before we leave.
It's a typical Scottish food."
In the village, there was a little market selling local produce.
There was honey and jam, cakes and biscuits.
And haggis.
"Yuk! What is that?" I asked, when Martin showed me the haggis.
"It's a sheep's stomach," Martin told me.
"Don't tell me!
I'd prefer to eat it without knowing.
Why aren't you having any?"
"Oh, I've already tried it!" he laughed.
The lady selling the haggis gave me a little plastic plate with hot haggis on
it and I ate it with a fork.
When I didn't look at what I was eating, it tasted quite nice!
Summary:
In this part
of the chapter, Antonio tells us about Highland
games of Dunkeld (Scotland). They're
a competition of the traditional Scottish sports. He also tells us about the
kilts and the haggis, a typical Scottish food.
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