Before I left Mexico, a friend gave me an historical fiction novel titled Outlander*. I had no idea that I would become so enchanted with the characters and utterly addicted to the story of life in the Scottish highlands of the 1700’s. I’m now on book four in the series by author, Diana Gabaldon.

So I was more than interested to find an annual “Highland Games” festival in the wee Scottish-settled town of Waipu, about three hours drive from our berth in Auckland. As we pulled into town, streams of people were making their way to the green field grounds where the croon of bagpipes already penetrated the dewy morning air. I couldn’t wait to see the colorful plaids and sporrans, the kilts, dirks and hear the Gaelic burr that I’d read about.  I was not disappointed.

Inside the gates were large tents where highland dance contests, pipe and drum competitions were ongoing and a football sized field for ‘the games’. Vendor stalls shaded by an avenue of mature trees sold trinkets, tartans, shortbreads and haggis. I fell for a brooch from the clan Fraser, (the strapping hero in my book’s clan!) but I passed on the pungent bowls of steaming haggis.  MacDougals, MacLachlans, MacKenzies, Campbells and Inneses… every clan attending manned a booth that boasted their family tree and all were proudly dressed in their clan plaids.

We wandered the tents and marveled at the grace and precision of the disciplined and talented young lasses and laddies competing for silver cups for the most perfect highland fling and sword dance.

At noon, all clans took to the field in a mass parade of pipes and drums. The collective drone of over one hundred pipers was majestically powerful. I closed my eyes and imagined young Jamie Fraser marching into battle on Culloden field over two hundred years ago. Cool!

The simple games consisted of displays of agility and brute strength and the players were as hefty and thick as linebackers. But these are not contact or team sports. You win by throwing or hurling the heaviest stone or sack the farthest or highest distance. The strangest event was the caber ‘toss’. While balancing a telephone pole sized log, the player had to bend over and pick it up by the bottom end, run a distance balancing the wavering pole, then flip the pole so the bottom end landed 180 degrees away from the player. Despite the bulk and steely determination of the men, few could hurl the log to pass end over end.

After a hearty lunch and cold draft we wandered through the haze of late afternoon performers and were quite surprised to run into our friends Naomi and Geoff with their ‘adopted’ granddaughters Tabitha and Lydia from Opua. They are fans of the games and also practice Scottish country dancing. Off we went with them to the country dancing tent where Claire joined them in the Scottish equivalent to our square dancing. Claire was thrilled to see her friends, dipping and sashaying until they closed the place down.

Chris and I have become fond of single malt scotch and would have capped our day with one, were it not for the drive back to Auckland. Our newest favorite is a hard to come by 14 year Islay Single Malt named ‘Bruichladdich’ that we picked up in Waipu. We are looking forward to our trip to the south island to the Scottish settlement of Dunedin to procure another interesting whiskey. If we look back far enough, (or if we drink enough peat-infused scotch,) we may find a wee dram of Gaelic blood in our family tree branches.

* The six book series by Diana Gabaldon starts with “Outlander” also called “Cross Stitch”.  Each 1,000+ page book is best enjoyed in the order written.

Cheers!

Kelley