Waking up on the morning of Thursday August 21st 1997 when I scrambled out of bed as the alarm clock made its usual series high-pitched bleeps. After switching off the alarm I went to the kitchen and prepared the coffee. While the brown granules infused I picked up a towel and went to shower and brush my teeth. While standing under the cool water flowing from the showerhead I created a lather with the soap and thought about the day ahead. It had started yesterday when I had been sitting daydreaming around lunch time.
For some years now I had been giving serious thought to the purchase of a Highland Outfit. The idea of walking about Penge swinging a kilt appealed to me. Only last week I had mentioned to my brother Gordon that I had wanted to get a kilt. I was not sure if he would be supportive or grin with mirth at the idea of me in a kilt. He had been sitting in the kitchen browsing a magazine when I asked, "What do you think about me wearing a kilt?" Looking up he smiled and replied. "Go for it. Yes." he looked me up and down then continued "I think you'll look well in a kilt. I haven't worn one myself since I was ten-year-old. I used to have to wear it every Sunday."
"So you reckon I should get one then?" I was a little surprised at his immediate enthusiasm.
"Sure. What tartan are you going to get?"
"I am not sure" I told him "I like the Red Ross it's bright and colourful but I like the MacLeod of Harris very much too. It's our Hunting tartan and you know I like hunting."
"Yes that is something you appear to be good at." He gave me a knowing look
obviously referring to the number of times I go out and come back with a partner
for company and fun. "Let me show you some samples I have." I went and brought
the fabric samples I had recently received from Geoffrey's a kiltmaker in
Edinburgh. Handing them to Gordon as I returned I said, "I don't want the dress
MacLeod 'cause I don't fancy all that yellow."
| Hunting MacLeod | Dress MacLeod | Red Ross |
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"No. I can see that is a bit OTT even for flamboyant you." He laughed and flipped to the next. "But this is quite a nice design with better colours." He pointed to the Red Ross then looked at the final swatch.
"That's the Hunting MacLeod in the modern colours. If I am to find any o'them off the peg at all it is likely to be that: don't you think?"
"Off the peg?" Gordon appeared puzzled.
"Well I thought I would go and see what is available from stock otherwise I wait 6-8 weeks to have one made up." I explained.
"There are very few kilts available from stock in these shops as far as I remember. Have you checked?"
"Yes." I told him. "I had made a couple of phone calls and there was nothing in either of the main shops in my tartan. In fact there are only two kilts in my size and I don't like either from the description. There may be a couple of other small shops I could try when I go there though just on the off chance."
"Go for it. Might as well as wish .... "He left the sentence unfinished and handed me the swatches.
"OK I will then." I took them and left him to his magazine.
I'd shampooed my hair and washed down while remembering these events. After rinsing off the suds I stepped out dried my hair and body, then went downstairs. Glancing out of the bathroom window across the park beside my home I took stock of the bright summer weather and the near cloudless sky. The weather in London had been over eighty degrees, very hot and humid, for the last week and I felt it would be good to get out of the city for a day. The coffee had brewed so I poured a cup and went into the bedroom to dress and make ready for the journey.
The previous evening I had packed my toothbrush, a spare set of socks and underwear together with my camera and the information from two kiltmakers. I decided to wear my lightweight grey summer suit as it would be cooler than denim and easier to take off should I want to try on any garments. A harlequin shirt and my black brogues completed the outfit. I rolled the jacket and put it into my bag as it was far too warm to wear it on the journey then. After a light breakfast of bacon, sausage, mushrooms and egg I felt fortified and ready to take on whatever the world had to offer. Washing up my dirty dishes took only a few minutes and shortly I was on my way to catch the train to London at 0911.
Due to it being the morning rush hour the train was crowded and already the days heat was penetrating and perspiration could be seen on the foreheads of the smartly attired Workers arriving to board the train. I found a seat near the rear and relaxed for the fifteen minutes journey into Victoria Station in 'Central London. The train pulled into the station, the doors opened and the people emerged in their droves purposefully walking up the platform and out into the concourse. There they dispersed, some to catch buses, some to walk and a few joined the queue (that's a line to you Canadians Sharon) to wait for the next available taxi. The remainder including myself headed for the entrance to the underground from where I would board a tube to Kings Cross Station.
My train was due to leave at 1020 and I arrived at Kings Cross at five minutes past the hour. Yesterday afternoon I had phoned the station and booked my ticket and paying for it with my visa card. I'd been told to pick up the ticket at window 18 this morning so I headed there next. There were three people before me in the queue and I waited with patience as the line shortened.
The lady behind the counter asked for my reference number and on informing her she hunted in a drawer for the correct documentation. She offered me the voucher which I signed and returned to her in exchange for my ticket to travel. Kings Cross station was cool in the cavernous canopied interior and I looked around noticing my fellow travellers. People stood about, some glancing back and forth and some staring patiently at the departure screens attached to the supporting pillars at the entrance to the platform area. Each appeared as anxious as the other to ascertain their particular departure platform and confirm the time of leaving.
Platform 11 was where the Edinburgh train stood and I found my reserved seat in a smoking carriage at the far end of the train. I sauntered down the platform leisurely and noticed that a lot of the young men boarding wore casual shirts and shorts.
Some of the lads had dark tanned legs while others seemed as though they were wearing shorts for the first time and had legs as pale as parchment paper. There was a holiday air of happiness about as I eventually got to the seat bearing my ticket number at the front of the train just behind the engine.
The journey took four and a half hours and we travelled under blue sunny skies until we came to Doncaster, a town in the north east. Here it turned grey and was followed shortly by long spells of rain. The visibility was greatly reduced and the drops of water dashed against the large windowpanes in the air-conditioned carriage. I watched the rivulets of water run diagonally down the glass as the train sped ahead.
I woke up on the outskirts of Newcastle upon Tyne and rubbed my eyes, as I had not intended to fall sleep. The chap sitting opposite to me said "You've had a good sleep there." And smiled. Pulling myself together I saw this man in his late twenties with a shock of blonde hair falling over his right eye. He tossed his head to shake the hair to the side of his face and continued, "You looked so peacefully attractive dozing away there. I've been watching you for ages." His voice had an inflection to it that made me think he might well have found me attractive. It is sometimes possible to read an indication of a man's sexuality by hearing him talk. I stretched my legs under the table and accidentally put my right leg between his ankles, which were parted but pushed forward toward my seat.
"Sorry." I said as soon as I made contact and started to withdraw my foot. His ankles tightened against my shoe I was not sure if this was a voluntary act by him or not?
"That's OK! Stretch yourself and do relax." I was a little confused, as I am not used to receiving instructions from strangers whether on a train or not. He took the pressure of my foot and I pulled it back under my seat. This man was wearing a pair of blue loose fitting shorts, a loose short-sleeved pale yellow shirt and as yet I was unable to see the feet that had so interestingly caught my attention. Looking at him I was pleased to find a warm smile and a gleam in his bright eyes. The skin on his rectangular clean-shaven face was tanned to a light golden colour and his eyes seemed a cold grey/blue at the iris with flecks of fiery orange tints under heavy brown brows. Quite attractive I remember thinking, but what is he up to. Raising my head I looked up to check my bag on the overhead rack. It was there and seemed to be untouched. I readjusted my sitting position and said nothing. I picked up my packet of cigarettes from the table in front of me and before I could reach for my lighter the stranger had his white metal flip top lighter flaming before me. Leaning forward I looked at him through my eyebrows and sucked on the flame. Upright again and sitting comfortably I looked over to him and exhaled a lung full of smoke in his general direction while I tried to think of something suitable to say.
"You were sleeping when I got here" he told me adding, "I boarded at Doncaster. I first went to the buffet to purchase some beer." He showed me a can of Stalla Artois lager. Then added, "my name's George by the way."
"Well I'm Iain and I have travelled from Kings Cross in London." I smiled at him before speaking "But I have not been sleeping all the way."
"You'll be going up for the Festival then, or what's left of it?" he asked. "It's been on for some two weeks now I believe.
Europe's largest arts festival I do believe." he finished.
"So you have been watching me sleep and found that attractive." I changed the subject. "What especially did you find attractive?"
His tanned face darkened in a mild blush and he leaned forward, picked up his packet of Marlborough, which I now noticed was lying on the table next to a magazine folded length wise, to gain time. He took out a cigarette, put the packet back on the table between us, tapped the filter end of the fag against his left thumb nail a few times as though he were lining up the grains of tobacco within and then stuck it between his teeth. I watched all this with interest and was reminded of an old Terry Thomas movie as he also used to do that in his films. With the cigarette in his mouth he could say nothing so his lips parted, his cheeks spread, the corners of his eyes wrinkled, his left ear rose a fraction and it seemed as though he had discovered a secret joke as he beamed that smile across the gap. I held my lighter to him and he lit his cigarette. "Well?" I said now that he had no further reason to delay.
George hitched himself up in his seat and took the cigarette out of his face. The end was not as flattened by his teeth as I had expected it to be. Speaking through the smoke that he exhaled he told me" I think you are a very attractive man. We find ourselves on a short train journey together and I find" he hesitated to find the word he was looking for "men attractive. I think I have a desire for your body. What I mean is," he quickly went to lengths to mitigate his last outpouring, "you lying there sleeping, sort of made me ...well! Well," he repeated," it made me feel very .... "George paused again. This time to grin at his own anxiety before he beamed another smile across to me. "I hope that doesn't offend you but I am a very em.. well forthright person. It is not my intention to embarrass you. You understand?" He finished and sank back into his seat.
"No you don't embarrass me but you are a bit formal in the way you put things." I replied. "We have an hour or so before the train arrives in Edinburgh and you look like a man I can share my lunch with." I offered with a wide smile and what I hoped was approval in my voice.
I sat back in my own seat and watched him deeply inhale the smoke from the cigarette. By now I was intrigued as I found the man opposite me to be quite attractive now that I had completely woke up and took time to study him.
I felt quite bold and my leg against his. "You seem well practised at chatting to strangers in a train." I said. "Do you do a lot of travelling?"
"I do a fair amount in the summer both in the United Kingdom and often in Europe too." He paused then took another drag from his cigarette. "I have to travel a lot on business but this trip is for pleasure." He informed me.
We looked at each other as though we were weighing each other up and making a judgement about how far we could take this. Our eyes met. We held the look for all of 30 seconds then smiled at each other as we broke away.
"With your wealth of experience you should know the best place for us to go to have little fun then." I suggested.
"Well there is not much of a choice on a train. It is really the toilet or nowhere. The toilets can be a little cramped but I would very much like to go there with you."
"Okay George. If you would like to lead on I'll be happy to follow you through." I told him as I smiled across the table.
George rose from the table and for the first time I was able to see lower half of his body. The shots ended at his knees and on his feet he wore a pair of thick woollen socks and a pair of heavy leather hill walking shoes. He swung out from the table and proceeded me between the rows of seats. He appeared to be nearly six-foot which was taller than I had imagined when he had been sitting down. From behind it appeared he had a good figure and his legs were as sun-tanned as his face and covered in curly hair. As I followed him along the passageway I was anxious to run my hands through that downy mass. He looked round once or twice to check that I was following him. We wandered through the first carriage as it swung from side to side until we came to the first toilet door. That was engaged so George continued to the next carriage. At the end of this he found one vacant toilet and went inside. I checked that no one was watching too closely and followed him in. It was indeed very cramped with too large guys inside.
As soon as I shut the door pulled me into his arms and started to kiss me. I responded hungrily as I felt his tongue part my lips and I melted against him allowing him to explore the inside of my mouth. His tongue darted around very quickly and his saliva was sweet and fragrant. I could feel myself becoming aroused very quickly. I explored with my right hand and found that his cock was already hard. We continued kissing and he dropped his right hand down also to feel my cock. We eased our bodies apart as we each fumbled with each other's fly. I undid the zip and put my hand inside. He was wearing tight underpants but I could find no opening. Meanwhile George had undone the buttons on my fly and had his hand inside my boxer shorts.
As the train swayed so we continued to kiss and enjoy the experience of exploration that was taking place in this small cubical. I unbuckled his belt and let his shots fall down. Now I was able to put my hand inside his underpants.
He was large and thick in my hand. I took my face away from his to look down at what I held. The cock in my hand was cut and the swollen acorn was already glistening and purple as it lay in my palm. He meanwhile was playing with me and gently masturbating the length of my dick in his soft warm hand.
I sank down to my knees and held his cock in front of my face. I licked the end of it with my tongue before putting the into my mouth. I around my time around the large head and felt the swollen rim pass over my lips. Easing forward I let the bulbous head ride along my tongue as I took the shaft deeper into my mouth. I sucked on the exciting instrument moving my lips back and forth along the full length of it. I opened my throat wide and pushed my face against his belly. His cock went right past my tonsils into my oesophagus. Keeping my mouth slightly open in order to breathe I moved his hips back and forth so that he fucked my throat in harmony with the motion of the train.
George played with my hair and arched his body for me. I could tell he enjoyed this and was very excited. His fingers moved from my hair into my ear holes then using his thumb and for finger he squeezed my ear lobes and moaned gently as his excitement heightened. With my hands I explored his firm buttocks and around my hands up and down his legs enjoying the soft touch of the curly hair which covered them. Ah but this is the way to travel I thought to myself. George was really very excited by now and he asked me "Will you let me fuck you?" He asked while I was still on my knees in front of him.
I held his call in my hand as I withdrew it from my lips. "Yes I would like you to do that provided you have some lubrication and a condom."
"Yes I have those." He told me. "I think it would be best if you drop your trousers and then turn around. I think we should just about have enough space to manage that."
I stood up and leaned forward. I put one hand behind his head and to him toward me then I kissed him. Once we've got involved in a passionate embraced of kisses I undid my belt and dropped my trousers and underpants. Now that we both had our pants down and around our ankles I pressed my naked thighs against his. As I came toward him his cock went between my legs so I closed my thighs on it and felt the exhilaration and excitement of this hot meat. His breath was heated as we continued to kiss. Releasing my mouth from his he sunk down to the floor. He took my cock in his mouth and started to suck on it. As he sucked my cock I could see that he was trying to find something in the pocket of his shorts. After finding a packet he took from a small blue sachet which I knew contained a condom and another player sachet that contained jelly.
Now this was sorted out he released my cock and stood up again. "I've got it." He told me as he listed to the blue container and he used his teeth to open it. He withdrew a pink condom from within and dropped the sachet to the floor. I nuzzled his neck and on his ear lobe as he busied himself putting on the condom. Time was passing and we did not want to take up the toilet for longer than what was necessary. When he had the condom securely over his cock he took the lube sachet between his white even teeth and tore the top of it.
I shuffled slowly and awkwardly in the confined space as I turned around to offer him my arse. I leaned my hands on the small watch basin to give myself support. George uses fingers to put the lubrication around my bum. I could feel his large cock seeking the opening so I've pulled my cheeks apart in order to assist him.
Once he got the tip inside I was able to relax and the full length of his cock slid easily inside me. It was large enough to hurt me a little as I tried to make the most of the available space. George placed one hand on each of my hips with his fingers gripping into my loins. He pulled me back against his cock then pushed me forward before pulling me back again. He continued this motion as the fucked me in that small room. I very much enjoyed the deep trusts of his penetration's and leaned forward onto my elbows in order to give him a slightly better angle though I was not as comfortable as I would like to have been. He loved his hands up my belly and onto my chest then took his thumb and for finger and squeezed my nipples. He enabled the back of my neck with his teeth and sucked on my ear as his cock continued to ravage my arsehole.
"Do you want to come?" He asked me as he continued to give me pleasure.
"Yes I would like to come at the same time as you do if we can manage it."
Hugh took hold of my cock in his right hand and gently masturbated me as he spoke.
"Are you close to coming yet?" He asked.
"Yes I'm fairly close but I am enjoying you fucking me so much that I don't really want you to stop just yet."
"I to am enjoying this but we have been in here some considerable time." He continued to wank me and fuck me as the train sped Northward. I could feel his large manhood inside me and I wished that we did not have to practice safer sex as I really wanted him to leave his juices inside my body. However such days have long gone. As he continued I could feel myself getting closer to my crescendo. His pace quickened and I could tell he was nearing his climax. I used the muscles of my arse to help him along, I spread my cheeks with my hands and pushed myself back against him then I clenched and tightened around that throbbing phallic.
He released my cock suddenly and gripped my pelvis pulling me back onto him forcefully. I enjoyed the masterful roughness of the act and could feel the excitement in his loins as his know thrust and penetrated deeply inside me.
I knew he was about to shoot his load. I grabbed hold of my own cock and wanked myself. By the time I felt his spasmodic ejaculation commence I too was ready and came into and over my hand. George held me close for a few minutes as I felt him spasm and tense as he emptied himself inside me. As soon as he regained control and the spasms ceased he withdrew his cock from my body and leaned back against the bulkhead with a heavy sigh of contentment. "Ah man alive that was really good." He told me. I turned my head to look at him and we smiled a knowing thank you at each other. I let George remove his condom and dry himself with a tissue before I had enough room to do anything. He left as soon as he had adjusted his dress and I closed the door behind him. I used a rough, green coloured, British Rail towel to wipe the lube from my buttocks. That done I then washed the spunk of my hands and redressed before leaving the toilet.
By the time I got back to me seat George was reading his book and looking very relaxed and content. We chatted for a while as the train climbed the hills in the South of Scotland, each mile taking us closer to Edinburgh and the parting of our ways.
At Edinburgh the train pulled slowly to a stop alongside the platform. Taking up my bag I alighted and walked to the end of the platform with George before saying goodbye to him. He had given me directions to the High Street as he knew Edinburgh a little and told me where he thought the kiltmakers to be. I turned right outside the station and took the left at the first crossroad. That led me up Cockburn Street, which climbs a steep incline leading up toward the High Street, this then runs to the left and the right across the brow of the hill. It was teeming with people when I arrived and turned to my right into the Fringe Festival area. This is also known as The Royal Mile.
There I was confronted by street performers dressed in puppet like costumes standing absolutely stationary like dummies. As a tall middle aged woman in front of me approached one of those actors he suddenly came alive and thrust out his left hand toward her. It contained a leaflet or flyer. The woman, who appeared to be somewhat taken aback at the un-expectedness of the movement hesitated in her stride and in stopping found she had automatically taken the piece of printed paper offered by the figure in the black body stocking with the white mask and top hat.
After drinking a leisurely cup of coffee in one of the many sidewalk cafes I found the first Kilt shop on my list. Hector Russell. I went inside and made enquiries. The girl to whom I spoke directed me to a man at the other end of the shop. I walked toward him noticing that he was about six feet tall with short cropped hair. His oval shaped good looking face with symmetrical features complemented the tweed vest with a white shirt underneath. His lower body I was unable to see as there was a counter between us. I approached and explained that I wanted to visit a few kiltmakers and then purchase an outfit. He came round to the end of the counter and offered his hand to shake saying. "I'm Alasdair. I'll be pleased to help.
Did you have a particular tartan in mind?"
"Yes I do." I told him as I grasped his hand in a firm shake. "I want either the Modern Red Ross or a MacLeod of Harris."
I spent the next hour learning about the kilt, the making, the difference between full and half width materials and the different weights of cloth available. It turned out that he had nothing in stock that would fit me in a tartan I liked so I took note of all and told Alasdair that I would come back tomorrow after I had had an opportunity to visit the other shops I wanted to explore. Leaving there I felt very happy with my progress so far and set of down the street towards Geoffrey (Tailor) Highland Outfitter's.
This was a larger shop situated beside the house of the Religious Zealot John Knox. I found the kilt department to be located down a steep flight of stairs in the basement. An elderly gentleman came across to me as I entered. I introduced myself and found his name was Charles. Having learned so much from Alasdair I was able to get right down to business with Charles. Unfortunately they did not have a kilt that I could buy off the peg either. Again I took the full particulars and asked to use the phone before leaving.
Last Wednesday when I had mentioned to my friend Richard that I was going to Edinburgh he suggested I might be able to stay with a chap named Paul who he had recently spent a weekend with. Richard told me he lives about ten minutes from the centre and so I asked him to arrange it. He was able to get Paul on the phone there and then and so it was arranged that I stay over at his apartment.
Now that I had done my main enquiries I called Paul and made arrangement for him to pick me up outside the shop here. Telling Charles that I would return tomorrow to order my kilt I bid him goodbye and went to wait outside. The street festival was still taking place but now at six in the evening there were fewer people about. I waited ten minutes before I saw Paul's red VW Golf pull up near to where I was standing. I went over and climbed into the front passenger seat, introduced myself and thanked him. We chatted on the journey as Paul had to go out again in twenty minutes to take a disabled boy to a riding session. On arrival at the flat Paul made some coffee but had no milk to put into it. We chatted briefly about plans for the later part of the evening before Paul left.
I left after him resting for an hour and went out to find a restaurant. Paul had told me that there were a couple of eateries near the Playhouse cinema and that I would also find the main gay bars close by too. I walked leisurely up the street remembering Edinburgh as I had last seen it many years ago. The layout and main buildings were the same. Only the frontage and business signs had really changed from how it had been when I was a boy. I went into a cafe bar and bought a beer while I perused the menu. There was nothing listed that I fancied. The music was very loud so I drank my beer and moved on find to the next
place Paul had mentioned. This turned out to have an even less interesting menu but the waiter was very friendly and suggested I might find the sort of cuisine I was looking for at a restaurant called Stack Polly.
This turned out to be a five-minute walk away. I entered on the ground floor through large glass doors into an imposing entrance hall. There I found a rather grand menu that was as expansive as it was expensive. Walking round the block I headed back in the direction from which I had come and managed to find a small but interesting café
bar where the music was being played at a tolerable level and ordered a gigot of lamb and fresh vegetables with a glass of wine to wash it all down. I enjoyed the ambience there where the food was well cooked and attractively presented. After my meal I chatted to some local people for a hour before deciding that I was tired enough to call it a day and head back to the apartment.
On Friday morning I woke up at ten past nine. I had used Paul's sofa with a pillow and a duvet and had had a very comfortable nights sleep. On my way to the bathroom I looked in on Paul and found he was soundly asleep in his double bed with a blue paisley pattern duvet wrapped about him. I left him to rest and made myself some coffee.
I found milk in the fridge so he had bought some while he had been out last evening. While sipping my coffee I decided that I would try the last shop that might have a stock kilt for me. I washed my cup, packed my overnight bag and left a note for Paul. This I placed on the coffee table together with the set of keys he had given me the previous evening. I checked that he was still asleep and then left at 1000.
Arriving at the High Street I made enquiries to locate a shop called 'The Best Fae Scotland'. I learned that the shop I wanted was at the far end of the Canongate, which was the continuation of, but a long walk from, the High Street. Having spent so much time on my feet yesterday my leg was letting me know that I was pushing it further than usual. Twice I stopped and wondered whether I should continue on what could easily prove to be a wasted journey. The odds against me finding what I wanted were long. However I am a Scotsman and we are strong on perseverance and staying power. Onward I trod. Fortunately it was downhill all the way.
The shop turned out to be the largest kilt and highland dress hire shop in the area but they did not have a new kilt in stock in my tartan. Understanding my look of disappointment the salesman said, "Wait here a moment please I may be able to help you." Without waiting for an answer he set of to the rear of the shop and reappeared a few moments later with a kilt in his hand. Laying it on the counter he explained. "This is the Hunting MacLeod. We had this made up to complete a hire order for a wedding recently. It has only been worn the once and it is your size provided you don't lose any weight." He looked at me and smiled. .- "Hmm the MacLeod of Harris Modern colours." I touched the material as I spoke "It's a medium weight cloth?" I asked.
"Aye we use medium weight for our hire stock. If you'd like to try it on I'll show you the changing room."
I beamed a smile at him to show my pleasure and followed to the changing room. This turned out to be a line of three cubicles with blue dralon fabric curtains on a rod before each one. "Thank you." I told him and changed from my trousers into the kilt. I slipped the leather strap through the material at the left side and fastened it to the buckle. It seemed to be a good fit at the waist. My excitement heightened as I made the realisation that I might be lucky after all. Taking the front flap over to the right I also tied the strap to the buckle at that side. I couldn't see the length but it felt great. I moved my hips a little and ensured that it hung OK. It was a happy man who, parting the drapes, stepped forth and stood before a full length mirror that was on the wall in front of the cubicle.
"Well it looks good. How's it feel?" asked the salesman as he moved toward me.
"It feels terrific. I have it in the last hole of the strap so you were right about not gettin' any thinner. How is it for length?" I asked.
"It looks about right. Let me check." He approached and placed the kilt a little higher on my waist. "That should feel better." He moved back to look at it. "Yes that's fine." He informed me. It looked good in the mirror. I kneeled on the floor to check the length. It was an inch above the floor and that is acceptable. Full of pride and feeling high I did a swirl and felt the pleats swing out behind me then fall back as I came to rest.
I put my trousers back on and the salesman tried to interest me in the other items required to complete the outfit but I declined all and left with a swing in my step and the kilt under my arm. I was more pleased that you can know as I had been quite sure that I would have had to wait weeks to have my kilt made up. Outside the shop I crossed the Canongate and waited for a bus to come to take me up the long hill to the High Street again.
While waiting for the bus I chatted to and old lady who told me I might wait for half an hour to get a bus as the service was not very good. With this in mind I hailed the next taxi that came along and sped away to complete my purchases. When we pulled up outside Geoffrey's I paid the £1.40 cab fare and proceeded inside.
Charles greeted me with a smile and I set about organising the items we had discussed last night. I showed him my kilt and asked for his opinion. He looked at it and told me I had got a very good deal. "What I would like to do is wear all the items I need to make up a complete outfit with this kilt and you then forward the made to measure one in 4 weeks when it is ready." I told him. "I think we agreed you have everything in stock that I need bar the sporran."
"OK lain. If you select a shirt first, then go and put it and the kilt on we'll get you looking like a hi'land laddie in no time."
Charles smiled and went over to the rack containing a selection of Jacobean shirts. I chose a large sized cream coloured shirt and took it to the cubicle at the far end picking up the kilt on the way past. This was the second time today was going to wear a kilt and I felt euphoric, stimulated, elated and excited all at the same time. It was much easier to put it on the second time of course, as I knew exactly what to do. I emerged looking a bit odd with short socks and no shoes. We next selected an Argyle jacket which can be worn for day or evening wear, a MacLeod crest kilt pin socks ghillie brogue shoes, hose, garter flashes, a belt, and a sgian dhu (that is the dirk like knife worn on the right leg inside the stocking top.
I put the items on as I made each selection and within half an hour I was fully attired. "That's a really first rate outfit now.
You have all you need except for a sporran. You can't possible walk about without one you know." Charles said as he stood back to survey his accomplishment. "Lets see if there is one you like."
"No I'll walk up to Hector Russell's shop where I saw one I liked yesterday. So if you will prepare the bill for what I have, oh; and don't forget I want a MacLeod crest tie to be sent with the kilt." I said. before I started to put my trousers and other clothes I had been wearing into my bag. I signed the Visa docket and picking up my bits and pieces I went up the stairs. Leaving the shop there was a spring in my step and I felt as if I was walking in the clouds.
Alasdair greeted me on my arrival and complimented me on how well I looked in my highland dress. "Thank you." I replied.
"came to you to have the final touch though. As you see I need a sporran."
"You certainly do. Which one did you want? The one you liked when we looked yesterday afternoon?" As he spoke he went to the centre pillar where the sporrans were located and took out the sporran I had preferred.
fridge so he had bought some while he had been out last evening. While sipping my coffee I decided that I would try the last shop that might have a stock kilt for me. I washed my cup, packed my overnight bag and left a note for Paul. This I placed on the coffee table together with the set of keys he had given me the previous evening. I checked that he was still asleep and then left at 1000.
Arriving at the High Street I made enquiries to locate a shop called 'The Best Fae Scotland'. I learned that the shop I wanted was at the far end of the Canongate which was the continuation of, but a long walk from, the High Street. Having spent so much time on my feet yesterday my leg was letting me know that I was pushing it further than usual. Twice I stopped and wondered whether I should continue on what could easily prove to be a wasted journey. The odds against me finding what I wanted were long. However I am a Scotsman and we are strong on perseverance and staying power. Onward I trod. Fortunately it was downhill all the way.
The shop turned out to be the largest kilt and highland dress hire shop in the area but they did not have a new kilt in stock in my tartan. Understanding my look of disappointment the salesman said, "Wait here a moment please I may be able to help you." Without waiting for an answer he set of to the rear of the shop and reappeared a few moments later with a kilt in his hand. Laying it on the counter he explained. "This is the Hunting MacLeod. We had this made up to complete a hire order for a wedding recently. It has only been worn the once and it is your size provided you don't lose any weight." He looked at me and smiled.
"Hmm the MacLeod of Harris Modern colours." I touched the material as I spoke "It's a medium weight cloth?" I asked.
"Aye we use medium weight for our hire stock. If you'd like to try it on I'll show you the changing room."
I beamed a smile at him to show my pleasure and followed to the changing room. This turned out to be a line of three cubicles with blue dralon fabric curtains on a rod before each one. "Thank you." I told him and changed from my trousers into the kilt. I slipped the leather strap through the material at the left side and fastened it to the buckle. It seemed to be a good fit at the waist. My excitement heightened as I made the realisation that I might be lucky after all. Taking the front flap over to the right I also tied the strap to the buckle at that side. I couldn't see the length but it felt great. I moved my hips a little and ensured that it hung OK. It was a happy man who, parting the drapes, stepped forth and stood before a full length mirror that was on the wall in front of the cubicle.
"Well it looks good. How's it feel?" asked the salesman as he moved toward me.
"It feels terrific. I have it in the last hole of the strap so you were right about not gettin' any thinner. How is it for length?" I asked.
"It looks about right. Let me check." He approached and placed the kilt a little higher on my waist. "That should feel better." He moved back to look at it. "Yes that's fine." He informed me. It looked good in the mirror. I kneeled on the floor to check the length. It was an inch above the floor and that is acceptable. Full of pride and feeling high I did a swirl and felt the pleats swing out behind me then fall back as I came to rest.
I put my trousers back on and the salesman tried to interest me in the other items required to complete the outfit but I declined all and left with a swing in my step and the kilt under my arm. I was more pleased than you can know as I had been quite sure that I would have had to wait weeks to have my kilt made up. Outside the shop I crossed the Canongate and waited for a bus to come to take me up the long hill to the High Street again.
While waiting for the bus I chatted to and old lady who told me I might wait for half an hour to get a bus as the service was not very good. With this in mind I hailed the next taxi that came along and sped away to complete my purchases. When we pulled up outside Geoffrey's I paid the £1.40 cab fare and proceeded inside.
Charles greeted me with a smile and I set about organising the items we had discussed last night. I showed him my kilt and asked for his opinion. He looked at it and told me I had got a very good deal. "What I would like to do is wear all the items I need to make up a complete outfit with this kilt and you then forward the made to measure one in 4 weeks when it is ready." I told him. "I think we agreed you have everything in stock that I need bar the sporran."
"OK lain. If you select a shirt first, then go and put it and the kilt on we'll get you looking like a hi'land laddie in no time."
Charles smiled and went over to the rack containing a selection of Jacobean shirts. I chose a large sized cream coloured shirt and took it to the cubicle at the far end picking up the kilt on the way past. This was the second time today was going to wear a kilt and I felt euphoric, stimulated, elated and excited all at the same time. It was much easier to put it on the second time of course as I knew exactly what to do. I emerged looking a bit odd with short socks and no shoes I We next selected an Argyle jacket which can be worn for day or evening wear, a MacLeod crest kilt pin socks ghillie brogue shoes, hose, garter flashes, a belt, and a sgian dhu (that is the dirk like knife worn on the right leg inside the stocking top.
I put the items on as I made each selection and within half an hour I was fully attired. "That's a really first rate outfit now.
You have all you need except for a sporran. You can't possible walk about without one you know." Charles said as he stood back to survey his accomplishment. "Lets see if there is one you like."
"No I'll walk up to Hector Russell's shop where I saw one I liked yesterday. So if you will prepare the bill for what I have, oh; and don't forget I want a MacLeod crest tie to be sent with the kilt." I said then started to put my trousers and other clothes I had been wearing into my bag. I signed the Visa docket and picking up my bits and pieces I went up the stairs. Leaving the shop there was a spring in my step and I felt as if I was walking in the clouds.
This state of euphoria continued as I walk down the hill toward Waverly station. I was feeling very happy with my purchases and had not been the Edinburgh Festival time I would have been happy to stay there for a few more days. As it was I could not stay with Paul and there was very little other affordable accommodation available in the city.
When I arrived at the station I looked around to find the left luggage lockers. It was my intention to deposit my baggage and spend the afternoon wandering around the city. I walk across the station concourse and found a bank of stainless steel doors in front of me. I searched along but could not find an empty locker. Toward the end of the three tiered stack of doors there was a man bending down either withdrawing or something into a locker. "Excuse me." I spoke to him as I stood to one side. "Will this locker be free when you have finished or are you putting your gear in?" I asked.
The man who was wearing blue denim jeans and white shirt straightened his back, turned his head and looked at me. "No it'll no be empty. I'm jist changin' a few bits that's a'." He told me. "I dinnae think yu'll find a locker very easily as the city's awfy busy the noo." He added.
"No I suppose your right. The festival certainly brings a lot of visitors." I replied. "I take it you are visiting the festival yourself?"
"Aye I'm going up hame to Aberdeen but I'll stop here the night.My friend is oot at work the noo." He told me.
"I just wanted to stash these bags while I take a wander around the town. Where you off to now that your friend is working?"
He had re-packed his bag and put it into the locker while he was talking to me. He locked the locker then stood up. He had dark curly hair and a slim but well proportioned figure. I noticed to that he was slightly effeminate and immediately wondered if he might be gay. I decided that I might as well take the bull by the horns as it were. "To you fancy joining joining me for a beer if you've nothing better to do?" I asked as I smiled my most friendly come hither smile and him.
"Aye I can dae that. I've time tae kill an nothing special tae dae." He moved over toward me and offered me his right hand. "My name's Hamish." He told me.
I dropped the parcel I had my right hand and took hold of his and shook it. "Hi, they call me Iain." I released his hand and stood looking at him. "Do you know the city well then?" I asked.
"Aye I know most o' the centre cause I come here quite af'en. What sort o pub d'ye want tae go tae?" He inquired.
"Oh I don't mind. Somewhere quiet as I don't want to be deafened by music. Somewhere that sells a good pint of beer and preferably gay friendly." I threw in as an afterthought and smiled as I looked into his bright brown eyes.
"Are you gay?" he asked showing a little surprise.
