Thursday, April 2, 2009

SCOTLAND


Every year in August, the Scots hold a city-wide festival in Edinburgh, the capitol. There are special musical events, arts and film are represented; artisans and street performers abound, and there is a large crafts fair at the foot of Edinburgh Castle where hand made objects of good quality are in abundance..
But one event is totally awesome, and literally towers over all else. It is known as the Edinburgh Military Tattoo, and it features the performance of military bands, drill teams, and specialty performers from all over the world, capped off by a thrilling fireworks display.
Edinburgh Castle sits brooding atop Castle Rock, overlooking the city below. There has been some kind of fortification on that site since before recorded history, and it has been the sight of many battles between warring factions in the area. Interestingly enough, for all its gore-spattered history, the castle has only been taken twice in battle, both times by Scots.
The Military Tattoo is held nightly on the Esplanade (parade grounds) of Edinburgh Castle, and it is the most amazing, spectacular show of skills unlike anything else you have ever seen. It is truly One-of-a-Kind. So great has become its reputation that tickets for the following year go on sale immediately at the conclusion of this year’s show, and they are sold out quickly. The better hotels are also booked well in advance.
The special needs traveler has to plan even further ahead, because there just are not that many facilities available at any time, much less during the month of the festival. As a result, I had completed booking arrangements virtually a full year in advance of going to Scotland.
We stayed at the plush Balmoral Hotel, and it was through the good efforts of the hotel’s head concierge that we acquired two of the best seats in the Esplanade. The concierge told me there might be some difficulty getting Nancy up the stairs into the seats, but he had a son who, with the company of several of his mates, would gladly help Nancy up the stairs for the price of a few pints of beer. Unfortunately, that plan fell through, and we left for the Tattoo without a firm plan in place to get us into our seats. But we took a chance and headed for the Castle.
It was a clear and cool night. The concierge had arranged for special car transport up the hill to the castle, and the car came as close as possible but had to stop short as the crowd was so dense the driver was concerned someone would get run over.
When we entered the parade grounds, I looked up and saw where we were to sit, and I started to worry how we would manage. Oh, me of little faith!
As I was pondering what to do, a small detachment of police and Scots Guardsmen came over, all in their best dress uniforms, all spit and polish, silver sabers shining, leather shoes and belts gleaming. While several of them went in front of us to clear a way through the crowd, the remaining six formed a phalanx around Nan’s wheelchair.
In unison, they lifted her and carried her up the stairs in military cadence, never missing a beat, and set her down- front row and center- where, I am told, the Queen’s box is set up should Her Majesty desire to see the show.

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