“To liken them to your auld-warld squad, I must needs say comparisons are odd.” (Robert Burns)
There are two things you can be sure of when you find a British ex-pat community somewhere in the world.
- they will usually all congragate in the same pub (normally an Irish one), watch sport and drink dark beer from pint glasses
- they will be more British than the Brits back home. (For example, when I was told that the Queen’s Birthday was on the list of annual must-attend events in Strasbourg – I thought they were joking)
So it should come as no surprise to you then that last night, along with 200 other people, I attended the annual ESC Burns Night Supper. Which was, near as damnit, no different from a Burns Night celebration back home. We had haggis, tatties and neeps; whisky (straight); bagpipes; Scotsmen reading Scottish poetry; and lads and lassies bounding around to widdly-diddly ceilidh music.
The only way you could possibly have told that all this was taking place in another country – was that the ceilidh dance moves were yelled in both English and French by our hostess, and that the signs on the toilet doors read ‘hommes’ and ‘dames’.
Everything else was as you would expect; (although I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that the Anglican Church were running the bar) it was an immensely enjoyable evening, and I will be fondly nursing my Scottish-Country-Dancing-blisters for some time to come.