Pounding Celtic drums, skirling pipes, wild clansmen. This fairly livened up my Friday lunchtime foray into Princes Street. The beat of the beat of the drums was hypnotic and the pipes stirred the blood of this Scotswoman, and a fair number of French, Italian and American visitors beside me in the crowd, judging by their reactions. Evidently the whole world is Highland at heart.
The band is called Clanadonia, and of course every Celtic tribe nowadays has its own web page.
Standing forlornly on the edge of the crowd was this lone busking piper, who had come to the prime spot outside the National Galleries only to find the territory occupied already by this wild lot. There's no way he could have competed against the din, but he stayed and appreciated for a while before moving somewhere quieter. The wooden case holds his bagpipes, and is the traditional carrying case.