Here are some of the final projects from the Travel Journalism: Scotland class!
Dougarie Estate
by Kelsey Deters
Dougarie Estate is found on the Northwest corner of the Isle of Arran in Scotland. The estate was originally a shooting lodge built in 1864/65 for the Duke of Hamilton. Brodick Castle was the primary residence for the Duke and his family. In 1972, the estate was sold to the Gibbs Family who still run it today.
The estate has a wide expanse and incudes the main lodge, several outlying farmhouses, and even a golf course that is open to the public. The main lodge includes a beautiful garden that is open to the public one day a year. There are five houses on the property that are rented on a long-term basis, and 3 homes that are regularly rented for holiday use.
Jacquelyn Newman is a property manager who has been employed by the estate for two years. She is just one of several people employed by the Dougarie Estate. Other positions include a housekeeper, maintenance man, gamekeeper, gamekeeper apprentice, greenkeeper, apprentice greenkeeper. Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs, the owners of Dougarie, are also very active in running the estate.
Hunting is a popular draw for the estate. Red Deer populate the Isle of Arran, but hunting seasons are very short and restricted. According to Newman, hunting on the estate must be done with the Gamekeeper, and the only beasts that can be shot are those that the Gamekeeper approves. Hunting on the island is not done to collect the biggest prize; it is done to eliminate the weaker animals. Hunters “only can shoot the worst of the stock,” explains Newman.
Pheasant shooting is another popular activity on the estate. The pheasants that populate the Isle of Arran are not usually wild, but raised for shooting and brought to the island. Newman explains that there are two types of pheasant shooting that takes place on the estate: Driven or Rush. Driven shooting involves having beaters with dogs flush the birds out of their resting places and into the air. Rush shooting is when the birds are walked up the hill and the hunters shoot them as they go.
Fly-fishing can be done in the river that runs through the property. Salmon and trout populate the river and are managed by the estate so the stock remains natural and healthy.
An old estate like Dougarie, no doubt has a rich history attached to it, but when asked about the possibility of ghost stories on the property, Newman laughed and replied, “I’m not aware of any ghost stories. No, no, no I don’t think Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs would tolerate any ghost stories.” Ghoulish tales or not, the beautiful scenery of the Dougarie estate clearly has a story of its own.
by Kelsey Deters
Dougarie Estate is found on the Northwest corner of the Isle of Arran in Scotland. The estate was originally a shooting lodge built in 1864/65 for the Duke of Hamilton. Brodick Castle was the primary residence for the Duke and his family. In 1972, the estate was sold to the Gibbs Family who still run it today.
The estate has a wide expanse and incudes the main lodge, several outlying farmhouses, and even a golf course that is open to the public. The main lodge includes a beautiful garden that is open to the public one day a year. There are five houses on the property that are rented on a long-term basis, and 3 homes that are regularly rented for holiday use.
Jacquelyn Newman is a property manager who has been employed by the estate for two years. She is just one of several people employed by the Dougarie Estate. Other positions include a housekeeper, maintenance man, gamekeeper, gamekeeper apprentice, greenkeeper, apprentice greenkeeper. Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs, the owners of Dougarie, are also very active in running the estate.
Hunting is a popular draw for the estate. Red Deer populate the Isle of Arran, but hunting seasons are very short and restricted. According to Newman, hunting on the estate must be done with the Gamekeeper, and the only beasts that can be shot are those that the Gamekeeper approves. Hunting on the island is not done to collect the biggest prize; it is done to eliminate the weaker animals. Hunters “only can shoot the worst of the stock,” explains Newman.
Pheasant shooting is another popular activity on the estate. The pheasants that populate the Isle of Arran are not usually wild, but raised for shooting and brought to the island. Newman explains that there are two types of pheasant shooting that takes place on the estate: Driven or Rush. Driven shooting involves having beaters with dogs flush the birds out of their resting places and into the air. Rush shooting is when the birds are walked up the hill and the hunters shoot them as they go.
Fly-fishing can be done in the river that runs through the property. Salmon and trout populate the river and are managed by the estate so the stock remains natural and healthy.
An old estate like Dougarie, no doubt has a rich history attached to it, but when asked about the possibility of ghost stories on the property, Newman laughed and replied, “I’m not aware of any ghost stories. No, no, no I don’t think Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs would tolerate any ghost stories.” Ghoulish tales or not, the beautiful scenery of the Dougarie estate clearly has a story of its own.
Payne Killer Review
by Kelsey Deters
Why pay for a show when you could see one for free? A good point made by an actor peddling his show at the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh. It is an even better point when considering the sheer number of options a viewer has when picking a show to see at the Fringe.
The actor peddling his craft was Rowan Dixon, and the show he was pushing was called Payne Killer. The show was held in a small venue that looked to be a hotel. There was a bar on the main level and performances being held for various Fringe shows in both the basement and upstairs. Payne Killer was playing directly after another performance in the upstairs room. Spectators waiting to see the premier performance lined the narrow staircase up to the room. Transitions were awkward as actors and crew from the first performance tried to navigate their bags and props down the stairs around the waiting audience. Then there was a second wait as the cast and crew of Payne Killer reset for their impending performance.
Finally the waiting audience was ushered into the small performance room. The room was set with rows of chairs that were fairly close together. There wasn’t a bad seat in the house, unless someone was uncomfortable being too close to the action.
The room was set to look like a formal living room. The decor was simple, but not so simple that the idea was unclear. The lights went down in a timely fashion after the audience was settled (probably in hopes of making up for the time delay).
An interesting story unfolded between the two characters sharing the stage. The owner of the house was a proper English woman named Phyllis Payne and her guest for the afternoon was a rougher man named John Falkener. Phyllis has John over to teach him how to properly play chess. They are part of the same chess association, but John really has no idea what he is doing.
The stark contrast between the two characters made for a desirable awkwardness, and created a sense that there was something more to the plot. Shockingly enough, there was. Soon John revealed himself to be a serial killer, a plot twist that a monkey could have seen coming. To the credit of the actors and the script, the show was advertised to be about a serial killer.
Thankfully the plot kept unfolding, because John did not want to rush the death of his latest victim. A well-written and well-paced dialogue flowed between Phyllis and John as back-stories for both of them were reveled. They talked about their tortured childhoods, and found that they had both been lonely, abused children. Every once in awhile they would stop individually and have a poorly operated spotlight illuminate only them. Each in turn gave lengthy inner monologues containing stories of their childhood abuse. Hilary Palmer, who played Phyllis, was very impressive as she broke through layers of the character slowly, and with great purpose.
A plot full of disturbing childhood abuse keeps unraveling until the tables are turned on the killer, John. Phyllis Payne revels herself to be the true master of murder when she explains that she is a serial killer of serial killers. This would be shocking unless the character’s name is said carefully. Phyllis Payne sounds an awful lot like “feel his pain.”
While the ending of the show might not have been the biggest revel in theatrical history, it was overall a very entertaining and well-performed production. The cherry on top of a good production was the actors shaking a basket at the audience and warning that they might not get out alive if something wasn’t left.
by Kelsey Deters
Why pay for a show when you could see one for free? A good point made by an actor peddling his show at the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh. It is an even better point when considering the sheer number of options a viewer has when picking a show to see at the Fringe.
The actor peddling his craft was Rowan Dixon, and the show he was pushing was called Payne Killer. The show was held in a small venue that looked to be a hotel. There was a bar on the main level and performances being held for various Fringe shows in both the basement and upstairs. Payne Killer was playing directly after another performance in the upstairs room. Spectators waiting to see the premier performance lined the narrow staircase up to the room. Transitions were awkward as actors and crew from the first performance tried to navigate their bags and props down the stairs around the waiting audience. Then there was a second wait as the cast and crew of Payne Killer reset for their impending performance.
Finally the waiting audience was ushered into the small performance room. The room was set with rows of chairs that were fairly close together. There wasn’t a bad seat in the house, unless someone was uncomfortable being too close to the action.
The room was set to look like a formal living room. The decor was simple, but not so simple that the idea was unclear. The lights went down in a timely fashion after the audience was settled (probably in hopes of making up for the time delay).
An interesting story unfolded between the two characters sharing the stage. The owner of the house was a proper English woman named Phyllis Payne and her guest for the afternoon was a rougher man named John Falkener. Phyllis has John over to teach him how to properly play chess. They are part of the same chess association, but John really has no idea what he is doing.
The stark contrast between the two characters made for a desirable awkwardness, and created a sense that there was something more to the plot. Shockingly enough, there was. Soon John revealed himself to be a serial killer, a plot twist that a monkey could have seen coming. To the credit of the actors and the script, the show was advertised to be about a serial killer.
Thankfully the plot kept unfolding, because John did not want to rush the death of his latest victim. A well-written and well-paced dialogue flowed between Phyllis and John as back-stories for both of them were reveled. They talked about their tortured childhoods, and found that they had both been lonely, abused children. Every once in awhile they would stop individually and have a poorly operated spotlight illuminate only them. Each in turn gave lengthy inner monologues containing stories of their childhood abuse. Hilary Palmer, who played Phyllis, was very impressive as she broke through layers of the character slowly, and with great purpose.
A plot full of disturbing childhood abuse keeps unraveling until the tables are turned on the killer, John. Phyllis Payne revels herself to be the true master of murder when she explains that she is a serial killer of serial killers. This would be shocking unless the character’s name is said carefully. Phyllis Payne sounds an awful lot like “feel his pain.”
While the ending of the show might not have been the biggest revel in theatrical history, it was overall a very entertaining and well-performed production. The cherry on top of a good production was the actors shaking a basket at the audience and warning that they might not get out alive if something wasn’t left.
Michelle Agyakwa: Olympic Volunteer
by Kelsey Deters
The United Kingdom has seen a lot of international activity in the last few years with the 2012 London Olympics and the 2014 Commonwealth Games held in Glasgow. Michelle Agyakwa has been inside the action as a volunteer for both events.
Michelle got involved in the London Olympics though a colleague who worked with her as a recruiter. She became one of 2,000 people who interviewed games makers, the term for London Olympics volunteers. Approximately 100,000 people interviewed for 80,000 games maker positions.
That part of Michelle’s volunteering obviously came before the Olympics, but she wasn’t finished there. She also auditioned to be a part of the opening and closing ceremonies and did take part in both ceremonies for the Paralympics. Michelle made it clear that she was not cast for her outstanding performance talent. “ I was in the category you would call general skills. I can’t dance, I can’t sing, I can’t do any of those things, but hey, we need some normal looking people to make this look like it isn’t too slick,” she explained.
Since the Commonwealth Games are not until next summer, Michelle has so far only worked as a Front Runner (a volunteer working Pregames). In her August section of volunteer work for the games, she worked mostly in the Commonwealth Games Family Services and Protocol division. Her jobs have been varied so far, but one seems to stick out over the others. “The one that required me to be on my toes the most was manning the dispatch desk, which is basically, we have a fleet of 10 cars and so different people call in to say, ‘I need a car to get me to the airport,’ or ‘I’d like to go and do some shopping,’ or ‘I need to go pick up my dry cleaning.’ And then I have to organize a car, know where they all are and send them around, and I’ve got a radio and it’s all really scary,” she said in a lighthearted tone.
So far, Michelle has only worked at the general assembly, where delegates from each nation participating come to Glasgow and get a feel for what next summer has in store. In January she will be back in Glasgow for another week of volunteering, and she also hopes to have a position for the games next summer. She is still waiting to hear what her official job might be.
When talking about her favorite memory of either game, Michelle went right to a moment during the closing ceremonies of the London Olympics. A public thank you was issued to all the volunteers standing in the arena. The crowd went absolutely wild and Michelle recounts, “I mean, I welled up a bit because I thought, ‘Wow, this is in direct reaction to something that I’ve done.’”
by Kelsey Deters
The United Kingdom has seen a lot of international activity in the last few years with the 2012 London Olympics and the 2014 Commonwealth Games held in Glasgow. Michelle Agyakwa has been inside the action as a volunteer for both events.
Michelle got involved in the London Olympics though a colleague who worked with her as a recruiter. She became one of 2,000 people who interviewed games makers, the term for London Olympics volunteers. Approximately 100,000 people interviewed for 80,000 games maker positions.
That part of Michelle’s volunteering obviously came before the Olympics, but she wasn’t finished there. She also auditioned to be a part of the opening and closing ceremonies and did take part in both ceremonies for the Paralympics. Michelle made it clear that she was not cast for her outstanding performance talent. “ I was in the category you would call general skills. I can’t dance, I can’t sing, I can’t do any of those things, but hey, we need some normal looking people to make this look like it isn’t too slick,” she explained.
Since the Commonwealth Games are not until next summer, Michelle has so far only worked as a Front Runner (a volunteer working Pregames). In her August section of volunteer work for the games, she worked mostly in the Commonwealth Games Family Services and Protocol division. Her jobs have been varied so far, but one seems to stick out over the others. “The one that required me to be on my toes the most was manning the dispatch desk, which is basically, we have a fleet of 10 cars and so different people call in to say, ‘I need a car to get me to the airport,’ or ‘I’d like to go and do some shopping,’ or ‘I need to go pick up my dry cleaning.’ And then I have to organize a car, know where they all are and send them around, and I’ve got a radio and it’s all really scary,” she said in a lighthearted tone.
So far, Michelle has only worked at the general assembly, where delegates from each nation participating come to Glasgow and get a feel for what next summer has in store. In January she will be back in Glasgow for another week of volunteering, and she also hopes to have a position for the games next summer. She is still waiting to hear what her official job might be.
When talking about her favorite memory of either game, Michelle went right to a moment during the closing ceremonies of the London Olympics. A public thank you was issued to all the volunteers standing in the arena. The crowd went absolutely wild and Michelle recounts, “I mean, I welled up a bit because I thought, ‘Wow, this is in direct reaction to something that I’ve done.’”
Death and a dram: a taste of Scotland’s dark history
by James Dundon
“Many martyrs and Covenanters died for the Protestant Faith on this spot,” these are the words that encircle the cobblestone monument
(pictured below) in the Grassmarket of Old Town Edinburgh, Scotland.
Now, people sit on this monument to eat. Children play on and around it—this monument marks the spot formerly occupied by the city’s gallows. It’s called the Covenanters’ Memorial, and it was built in 1937 to memorialize martyrs executed during the Religion Wars.
Edinburgh’s steep, winding streets lead past historical buildings and through narrow closes to the valley below Edinburgh Castle; and that’s where the Grassmarket sits.
As its name implies, the Grassmarket was originally an open field and a farmers market. But it also served as the site of public executions from the mid-1600s until 1823. Hundreds of other people, guilty and innocent, met their demise in what is now a lively part of town with many pubs, restaurants, clubs and retail stores. And it lies just a few steps away a pub whose name references Edinburgh’s dark past: The Last Drop.
“It’s a play on words to commemorate the last drop on the gallows and the last drop of whiskey,” said Michael, a bartender at The Last Drop.
Before those condemned to hang took their final steps, they were allowed a final drink of scotch before they took their last drop on the gallows. They often drank that scotch at The Last Drop—and criminals weren’t the only patrons at The Last Drop associated with the gallows. Hangmen came to The Last Drop after the hangings for their “deid-chack,” which as Michael explained, is slang for the tax that hangmen received for their work—which was typically a free meal.
Michael said The Last Drop is the only remaining building in the Grassmarket that hasn’t made any changes to its original seventeenth-century architecture. The dimly lit pub’s aged wood panel and red brick interior take patrons back in time, while the decor playfully, yet subtly illustrates its dark past—colorful skulls embellish the dividers between booths, the street sign for the pub depicts a noose loosely hanging over a wooden beam.
The atmosphere of the pub presents no indication of anything dark, and the décor’s hints are so subtle, that no one at a table of seven near the door was familiar with the pub’s history.
Some staff and locals believe the spirits of those executed in the square haunt the building, but Michael said he doesn’t believe the stories. The Last Drop’s website claims the pub to be the current home of a ghostly patron—a young girl who was the last person hanged in the Grassmarket.
Visitors to and locals of Edinburgh can now follow in the footsteps of the executed and their executioners and have a dram of scotch at The Last Drop, and believers of the ghost stories can dine with the deceased.
by James Dundon
“Many martyrs and Covenanters died for the Protestant Faith on this spot,” these are the words that encircle the cobblestone monument
(pictured below) in the Grassmarket of Old Town Edinburgh, Scotland.
Now, people sit on this monument to eat. Children play on and around it—this monument marks the spot formerly occupied by the city’s gallows. It’s called the Covenanters’ Memorial, and it was built in 1937 to memorialize martyrs executed during the Religion Wars.
Edinburgh’s steep, winding streets lead past historical buildings and through narrow closes to the valley below Edinburgh Castle; and that’s where the Grassmarket sits.
As its name implies, the Grassmarket was originally an open field and a farmers market. But it also served as the site of public executions from the mid-1600s until 1823. Hundreds of other people, guilty and innocent, met their demise in what is now a lively part of town with many pubs, restaurants, clubs and retail stores. And it lies just a few steps away a pub whose name references Edinburgh’s dark past: The Last Drop.
“It’s a play on words to commemorate the last drop on the gallows and the last drop of whiskey,” said Michael, a bartender at The Last Drop.
Before those condemned to hang took their final steps, they were allowed a final drink of scotch before they took their last drop on the gallows. They often drank that scotch at The Last Drop—and criminals weren’t the only patrons at The Last Drop associated with the gallows. Hangmen came to The Last Drop after the hangings for their “deid-chack,” which as Michael explained, is slang for the tax that hangmen received for their work—which was typically a free meal.
Michael said The Last Drop is the only remaining building in the Grassmarket that hasn’t made any changes to its original seventeenth-century architecture. The dimly lit pub’s aged wood panel and red brick interior take patrons back in time, while the decor playfully, yet subtly illustrates its dark past—colorful skulls embellish the dividers between booths, the street sign for the pub depicts a noose loosely hanging over a wooden beam.
The atmosphere of the pub presents no indication of anything dark, and the décor’s hints are so subtle, that no one at a table of seven near the door was familiar with the pub’s history.
Some staff and locals believe the spirits of those executed in the square haunt the building, but Michael said he doesn’t believe the stories. The Last Drop’s website claims the pub to be the current home of a ghostly patron—a young girl who was the last person hanged in the Grassmarket.
Visitors to and locals of Edinburgh can now follow in the footsteps of the executed and their executioners and have a dram of scotch at The Last Drop, and believers of the ghost stories can dine with the deceased.
The art of falconry
by James Dundon
Ian Struthers, a man in his 70s, stands outside Brodick Castle on the Isle of Arran, Scotland with his leashed companion—a seeker falcon—perched on a visitor’s leather bound arm.
Struthers is a falconer. He raises various birds of prey, trains them to hunt, hunts with them and gives falconry presentations.
“Stupid old men need something to keep their focus,” Struthers said humorously.
He’s been involved in falconry since he was about 13.
Now, Struthers gives presentations for Arran Birds of Prey, which is an organization that rehabilitates injured birds of prey and organizes falconry demonstrations at events like Brodick Castle’s Victorian House Party.
“Like a lot of, we’d say daft, boys we were interested in hunting, and there was something that seemed a bit odd about falconry.
“So not being brave enough, gave someone my pocket money to climb up a tree and steal a young kestrel from her nest. So I got that but I made a bit of a mess of training it. And then I got a tawny owl, which had fallen from a nest and kept that. But I wasn’t very good with that either and it caught me by the eyelids so I had to wear motorbike goggles when I went to feed it,” Struthers said.
It takes about three weeks to train a bird to “free fly. But that’s like knowing how to read and write and saying you’re educated,” Struthers said.
He said learning to train birds of prey wasn’t easy.
“You come in contact with adults who are falconers who are prepared to talk to you and encourage you. And there were some books available but not so many because with the advent of pheasant firearms, hunting with birds of prey really declined in the U.K,” Struthers said.
But moving to Arran from Lanarkshire, Scotland opened up new possibilities for him to practice falconry.
“In moving to Arran I started to be in a really suitable area, and made some contact within the hawking club and inviting people over to fly mainly golden eagles, but also black African eagles.”
Struthers experimented with other forms of hunting but falconry has always played a role in his life.
“There was periods when I was more into horses and hunting dogs but always some involvement with birds of prey,” he said.
He’s been giving falconry presentations with the Scottish Hawking Club for the past 12 years and said, “This is the thirteenth year of the hawking club coming over (to Arran) and that’s a real mixture, which has involved people from different countries.”
Falconry gained popularity in Scotland and the rest of the U.K. in the middle ages but originated in Southeast Asia and has made its way even further west.
The U.N. now recognizes falconry as a valuable cultural commodity.
According to the North American Falconry Association (NAFA), in 2010 the United Nations Educational and Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) “added falconry to its list of Intangible Cultural Heritages of Humanity.”
“Everything about falconry is more healthy in America,” Struthers said.
The American Falconry Magazine and the North American Falconry Association provide information on how to get into the only sport in North America that uses a trained wild animal.
by James Dundon
Ian Struthers, a man in his 70s, stands outside Brodick Castle on the Isle of Arran, Scotland with his leashed companion—a seeker falcon—perched on a visitor’s leather bound arm.
Struthers is a falconer. He raises various birds of prey, trains them to hunt, hunts with them and gives falconry presentations.
“Stupid old men need something to keep their focus,” Struthers said humorously.
He’s been involved in falconry since he was about 13.
Now, Struthers gives presentations for Arran Birds of Prey, which is an organization that rehabilitates injured birds of prey and organizes falconry demonstrations at events like Brodick Castle’s Victorian House Party.
“Like a lot of, we’d say daft, boys we were interested in hunting, and there was something that seemed a bit odd about falconry.
“So not being brave enough, gave someone my pocket money to climb up a tree and steal a young kestrel from her nest. So I got that but I made a bit of a mess of training it. And then I got a tawny owl, which had fallen from a nest and kept that. But I wasn’t very good with that either and it caught me by the eyelids so I had to wear motorbike goggles when I went to feed it,” Struthers said.
It takes about three weeks to train a bird to “free fly. But that’s like knowing how to read and write and saying you’re educated,” Struthers said.
He said learning to train birds of prey wasn’t easy.
“You come in contact with adults who are falconers who are prepared to talk to you and encourage you. And there were some books available but not so many because with the advent of pheasant firearms, hunting with birds of prey really declined in the U.K,” Struthers said.
But moving to Arran from Lanarkshire, Scotland opened up new possibilities for him to practice falconry.
“In moving to Arran I started to be in a really suitable area, and made some contact within the hawking club and inviting people over to fly mainly golden eagles, but also black African eagles.”
Struthers experimented with other forms of hunting but falconry has always played a role in his life.
“There was periods when I was more into horses and hunting dogs but always some involvement with birds of prey,” he said.
He’s been giving falconry presentations with the Scottish Hawking Club for the past 12 years and said, “This is the thirteenth year of the hawking club coming over (to Arran) and that’s a real mixture, which has involved people from different countries.”
Falconry gained popularity in Scotland and the rest of the U.K. in the middle ages but originated in Southeast Asia and has made its way even further west.
The U.N. now recognizes falconry as a valuable cultural commodity.
According to the North American Falconry Association (NAFA), in 2010 the United Nations Educational and Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) “added falconry to its list of Intangible Cultural Heritages of Humanity.”
“Everything about falconry is more healthy in America,” Struthers said.
The American Falconry Magazine and the North American Falconry Association provide information on how to get into the only sport in North America that uses a trained wild animal.
The Scottish Highland Games: a universal, timeless tradition
by James Dundon
Bagpipes drone in the background, several men saunter by in kilts. Then after a heave and a loud grunt, there’s a tree trunk flying through the air. The Scots call it the caber toss.
The caber toss is a traditional event featured at Scottish highland games. It involves tossing a caber, which is essentially a tree trunk, and getting it to complete a full vertical rotation. The man or woman whom tosses the caber the farthest wins. The caber toss is just one of the many heavy events.
The heavy objects were flying on August 10, 2013 in a small coastal town on the Isle of Arran, Scotland. The Brodick Highland Games were held in the shadow of Goat Fell Mountain in Ormidale Park.
Allan Pettigrew an announcer for the games called Arran’s games “the best wee games in Scotland,” in a Facebook post.
The town has hosted highland games annually since 1886, with the exception of both world wars and several other breaks.
Amidst the throngs of people, food stands and games there’s a strong sense of community, that resembles a county fair; and although there are hundreds of highland games held around the world, this one was distinctly Arran.
The 2013 event featured the music of four different pipe bands: Isle of Arran, Kilbarchan, Kirkintilloch, and Maybole. Arran Dairies sells their coveted Scottish tablet ice cream among other flavors. Isle of Arran Distillers offers free samples of scotch and Arran Gold Cream—a whisky cream liqueur. The sea breeze spreads the smell of burgers through the air that were cooked by the Arran Mountain Rescue Team.
It’s images like these that have brought worldwide popularity to this Scottish tradition.
This festival features all of the traditional Scottish games: caber and hammer tosses, track and field events, bagpiping and Scottish Highland Dancing—as well as the not-so-traditional events like a children’s fancy dress contest (or costume contest), and the All Comers Pillow Fight.
The games were first introduced around 1000 A.D. by a Scottish king to find the strongest men to become couriers and soldiers, according to Scotlandwelcomesyou.org.
These ancient games have made their way into American culture, with 47 highland games held in 30 different states—in fact, Scotlandwelcomesyou.org states the first American highland games was held in 1836 in New York, 50 years before Arran’s first highland games.
by James Dundon
Bagpipes drone in the background, several men saunter by in kilts. Then after a heave and a loud grunt, there’s a tree trunk flying through the air. The Scots call it the caber toss.
The caber toss is a traditional event featured at Scottish highland games. It involves tossing a caber, which is essentially a tree trunk, and getting it to complete a full vertical rotation. The man or woman whom tosses the caber the farthest wins. The caber toss is just one of the many heavy events.
The heavy objects were flying on August 10, 2013 in a small coastal town on the Isle of Arran, Scotland. The Brodick Highland Games were held in the shadow of Goat Fell Mountain in Ormidale Park.
Allan Pettigrew an announcer for the games called Arran’s games “the best wee games in Scotland,” in a Facebook post.
The town has hosted highland games annually since 1886, with the exception of both world wars and several other breaks.
Amidst the throngs of people, food stands and games there’s a strong sense of community, that resembles a county fair; and although there are hundreds of highland games held around the world, this one was distinctly Arran.
The 2013 event featured the music of four different pipe bands: Isle of Arran, Kilbarchan, Kirkintilloch, and Maybole. Arran Dairies sells their coveted Scottish tablet ice cream among other flavors. Isle of Arran Distillers offers free samples of scotch and Arran Gold Cream—a whisky cream liqueur. The sea breeze spreads the smell of burgers through the air that were cooked by the Arran Mountain Rescue Team.
It’s images like these that have brought worldwide popularity to this Scottish tradition.
This festival features all of the traditional Scottish games: caber and hammer tosses, track and field events, bagpiping and Scottish Highland Dancing—as well as the not-so-traditional events like a children’s fancy dress contest (or costume contest), and the All Comers Pillow Fight.
The games were first introduced around 1000 A.D. by a Scottish king to find the strongest men to become couriers and soldiers, according to Scotlandwelcomesyou.org.
These ancient games have made their way into American culture, with 47 highland games held in 30 different states—in fact, Scotlandwelcomesyou.org states the first American highland games was held in 1836 in New York, 50 years before Arran’s first highland games.