Celebrating with Jean and Max in Edinburgh.

 Our trip to Scotland was on the occasion of being honoured guests of Max and Jean, a couple I was bridesmaid to. The venue was the impressive Prestonfield House Hotel in Edinburgh at the end of the Royal Mile, set in a splendid estate. Its original name was Priestfield as it was once the site of a wealthy Cistercian monastery founded c. 1510. Burned down in an anti-Catholic riot in 1681, its then owner, Sir James Dick, raised this beautiful manor house from the ashes, sparing no expense.  The ornate plaster work was created by the same craftsmen who designed that in the Palace of Holyrood House. He it was who felt it expedient to change the name to its current one, to expunge any papal connotations!                                           

Jean and Max emigrated to Canade in the 70s, so their grown-up family are settled in Toronto and Seattle. People came from ‘a’ the airts’ to help them celebrate their 50^th wedding anniversary. And celebrate we did! 😊                                                  

Our evening began with copious quantities of champagne, served, along with other appetizers, with haggis bonbons - very tasty. Max, with his wry sense of humour, presented a very entertaining speech, extolling his wife for her tolerance!                                                       

The food was splendid; our hosts had selected a range of tasty dishes for us to choose from.

                                                

It was very kind of Jean and Max to invite my sister and her husband. Here they are sharing a joke with the photo-bombing host and with the head waitress, Paddy, who we learned was from the Greek island of Symi. What a small world!                                          

We are clearly enjoying our evening and please note all these glasses. The staff were punctilious in circulating regularly to ensure no glass stayed empty. :o

                                       

And just for old times’ sake, here is a picture of the 1974 wedding party at the reception at Stonefield Castle Hotel. Tarbert Loch Fyne. I wonder if you can recognize the bridesmaid!?

                                     

Koufovouno Panigyri

 

Despite the baking heat we decided to head north to Z’s home area in Thrace to honour the Prophet Ilias’ name day. He lived in the kingdom of Samaria in the 9^th century B.C , according to the Book of Kings. Ilias is known to have resisted the rise in the worship of Baal, a popular god among the Israelites, rather than the ‘true’ Canaanite deity.

                                               

Of course ,meeting up with family is our main objective which we did round a feast of a table – bread, cheese and wine being the only items of non-home produce. Our cousins, Voula and Giorgos, are incredible hosts, but their daughters contribute now too. Dina tried her hand at a much-loved Turkish dish of hers with aubergines and beef   - truly memorable.                                                 

  And if your favourite fried courgettes are set out right in front of you, then you really are obliged to sample them, right?                                       

Falling on the weekend as it did, the ‘panigyri’ festival attracted many people: locals and those forming part of the diaspora. Here the queue for entrance extends far beyond the stalls selling doughnuts and candy floss- the dream of many of the young children attending.

Settled at a pre-booked table, we enjoy a variety of meats and salads catered for by a local hotel.

                                     

Several traditional dance groups joined our celebration – even one from Thessaloniki – resplendent in their costumes. But imagine dancing in them in temperatures just shy of 40oC. Well done, them!  It was a joy to see young people almost literally throw themselves into the dance routines - tradition being readily passed on.                                 

When the bagpipes skirl, the clarinet trills and the number of retsina bottles increases, then you know it’s time to take to the floor or, in this case, the school yard.

                                     

I managed  only half of my favourite baidoushka. The spirits were high but the heat was intolerable.

                                  

We left after 2 am, with things still going strong at 4.30, As the music abated a little after that, a cockerel took over his day-break shift. Once he’d greeted in the new dawn to his satisfaction, peace reigned for just a little. Being Sunday, it was time for the priest to summon his flock to his early service by loudspeaker!  Not much sleep that night, but it was worth it.

Kai tou xronou - may we all meet up again next year!

I’m still a novice at video-taking, but hopefully this will show you part of the traditional dance and music. Fingers crossed.