Burns Night at Hay Castle

I wore my tartan, of course. In my youth, I went on holiday to Dunoon, which had a big tartan centre, where you could get tartans unavailable elsewhere. My gran and I had kilts made for us in the Graham tartan (she went for Ancient; I went for Modern). I was a bit slimmer then, so I eventually had to part with my kilt, and the frilly blouse, and the green velvet waistcoat. All that's left is a length of tartan I wear on special occasions over one shoulder, with a big plaid pin to hold it in place.

The Castle was packed for the evening, and the price of the ticket was extremely good value. On arrival, you got a tot of whisky, and there was a bowl of stew (beef, pork or vegetarian) with bread, and fruity flapjacks later.
And the haggis. It's not Burns Night without the Address to the Haggis.
I was delighted to meet Angus Graham, in his Graham tartan kilt. It's not often I meet another member of the clan I just about belong to. He gave the Address to the Haggis canapes (it must have seemed the easiest way to serve haggis to a hundred people, and they were very nice), in glorious Scottish accent, wielding a large knife:

"His knife see rustic labour dight
And cut you up wi' ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright
Like ony ditch;
And then, oh, what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin', rich!"

There was a real ceilidh band, with accordion and bagpipes, and instruction was given on five different Scottish dances, in order of increasing difficulty, including a version of Strip the Willow and The Dashing White Sergeant. There were some real young Scotsmen, in kilts, on hand, to show how it was done, and Derek from the Wholefood Shop also looked resplendent in his kilt - he even had a sgian dubh tucked down his sock. (That's a little dagger, literally the 'black knife').

It was a really fun evening, and I hope they made a lot of money for Clyro School.