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Scotland, along with England, celebrate Guy Fawkes Day each November 5th. Basically a man called Guy Fawkes tried to blow up Westminster in 1605. He was unsuccessful, but every year, Brits burn a likeness of him on a bonfire to celebrate his foiled terror attack. I saw on a History of Scotland (gotta love Neil Oliver’s voice!) that Guy was a mercenary hired to eliminate high ranking Scots in London after King James I (son of Mary, Queen of Scots) was made King of England as well. Apparently James had quickly promoted his Scottish friends to prominent positions in England, which the English noblemen weren’t too impressed by, so they tried to get rid of them all.

Anyway, the bonfires are usually coupled with fireworks, or in city areas just the fireworks. Thursday night November 5th we watched the fancy fireworks set to music at Aberdeen Beach. But Saturday we wanted to experience the ‘proper’ burning of the Guy. Scott from work suggested Banchory so we took the mini for another spin down the B9077 (she does love that road!). We ate stovies, a traditional Scottish dish, then elbowed our way through the munchkins and kiddlywinks to front row position by the warmth of the massive burning pile of trash (mainly broken pallets, garden waste, a few wooden planks and doors). The fireworks at Banchory were much more impressive than the city ones, even if they didn’t bother with music.

I still have mixed feelings about fireworks in general, after Mum and I visited Gerrod and Kristy in New York. While we were there, we took a tour of the UN Headquarters building, and there was a poster declaring that if we all gave up fireworks for just one New Years Eve, we could use the money to get all the third world countries out of debt. I’m not sure if I got the statistic exactly correct, but it was something like that. So whenever I’m enjoying the spectacle, I think about that poster, but I’m not sure there’s anything I can do about it.