And they're off!

The sight and sound that I've waited for since the first lockdown began: a marching pipe band! Stroud doesn't have one, being in the middle of England.

CleanSteve and I drove to Benderloch and took the bus into Oban because it was the day of the Oban Highland Games. Most Games had to be cancelled this year, for the second year running, but Oban went ahead, being later in the season. We watched the Oban high school pipe band play, before marching out of town, still playing, to the Shinty park where the Games are held. Residents lined the streets to watch the procession pass The band was followed by the stewards dressed in clan tartans and bunnets, some with feathers in them. It's a grand get-together. There's also a ball afterwards, but I've never been to that, I just enjoy watching the games.

We followed the crowd and soon settled on the bank overlooking the main part of the park. The turf was warm and springy so we stayed there for most of the day. Steve enjoyed watching the Highland dancing and snapping the VIP, HRH Princess Anne, but I mainly liked listening to the pipe band, even though they don't have many tunes so kept playing The Rowan Tree and a couple of others over and over. They were not allowed to practise together during the various Lockdowns because of social distancing and possible aerosol transmissions, hence the lack of variety. I feel for them.

Most of the heavy events such as throwing the hammer, throwing the heavy stone (which really IS a heavy stone), and tossing the caber, were won by a scary looking heavyweight called Vlad Tulasek, from the Czech Republic. During the time that he couldn't travel to Scotland to compete because of CoVid, apparently Vlad kept in shape on the Eastern European Highland Games circuit. Who knew? I feel a research project coming on. Maybe there are millions of hefty men like Vlad out there, tossing the caber in their own towns.

We enjoyed the inclusive nature of the day, with races for children from the age of one; men; women; overseas visitors, and of course the Hill race, in which the competitors exit the park and run up a faraway hill, returning about seven minutes later. That was won by one Johnny Campbell who was visiting friends on the Isle of Mull. I wish it had been won by one of the Oban boys, as JC had only decided to enter at the last moment.

The sun shone all day, and the day was all-round perfect, apart from the bus journey back, which was severely delayed. I knew I had to try and get back in time to see my mum's carers, so that she didn't take insulin when it was not needed. Mother's getting muddled now, and the carers are not diabetes trained. On this occasion I skidded in just as the carer was leaving, and kind of shouted "don't take it!" which of course my mother didn't like at all, being a very independent sort of person. The carer beat a hasty retreat. I went down to Cuil Bay and watched the sun setting on another west Highland evening.