Tam O'Shanter and a Grey Mare's Tail tale

One of my absolute life ambitions, near the top of my Bucket List, is to learn Tam O'Shanter off by heart. Arguably the best of his work, Rabbie Burns wrote this epic tale in 1790. Even he didn't expect to better this seminal poem, apparently saying in 1791 that the poem had been given "a finishing polish that I despair of ever excelling." It is truly an awesome piece of work; a story that equally excites, thrills, terrifies, and pleases the reader. If you've never read Tam O'Shanter go and do it NOW.

I've loved this poem ever since I heard it; probably at school first, then at Burns Nights at the golf club in West Linton, whilst I was weaving my way between the tables or listening from behind the bar. I've always thought it was a great skill to be able to recite such an epic poem. Not just because of its length but because of its pace, intensity, and the enthusiasm and energy required to recite it aloud.

As a tour guide for a company named after our national bard, I saw it as important to tell our visitors about Rabbie. And I did. Voted the Greatest Scot of All Time in 2009, the poetry of Robert Burns touches us all as Scots. Poems written over 250 years ago still have relevance and interest today. Rabbie is the gift that keeps on giving. I was proud to be an ambassador for a company called Rabbies, despite the high volume of tourists mistaking the Great One for Rabbis or worse, Rabies. I would highly recommend a visit to the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum in Alloway. I attended a very interesting talk with my dad last year during the Edinburgh Festival about Rabbie's unpublished - and very controversial - poems, complete with heckling from some drunk guy at the back - "G'AAAAN YERSEL' RABBIE!". Ahh indeed, Rabbie is a man I have a lot of time for. An auld romantic, I know I would have been wooed all too easily.

I used to recite a few poems on my tour. My pride and joy was 'Bruce to His Men at Bannockburn', or Scots Wha Hae'. I can do bits and bobs of others, including the first verse of the 'Address to the Haggis'. I, of course, would like to learn the whole thing one day! But Tam O'Shanter would be such an achievement to learn, and to recite, and some day I WILL.

I think the reason Rabbie has so much staying power is his uncanny ability to talk to every person, on every level, in every aspect of life. At any time. Recently I realised that there are certain lines of his poetry floating around my head. Occasionally it is my favourite line from Tam O'Shanter - a line that is also in the top two in the running for Favourite Line of All Time, constantly jostling for position with 'And I will love thee still, my dear/till a' the seas gang dry' from 'A Red, Red Rose' - which is: 'Where sits our sulky, sullen dame/Gathering her brows like gathering storm/Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.' All of that speaks to me, but especially the last part. On some days, there is nothing I like better than to nurse my wrath to keep it warm. But more recently, it is the part of Tam O'Shanter where Tam peaks into the auld Alloway Kirk, and sees 'Warlocks and witches in a dance/Nae cotillon, brent new frae France/But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels/But life and mettle in their heels.' Again it is that last part that speaks to me. There has been life and mettle in my heels recently, and so this line keeps popping into my mind.

All of my ramblings and ruminations about Rabbie seemed very relevant this weekend when we undertook a walk at Grey Mare's Tail, a National Trust site in Dumfries and Galloway, and home to one of the highest waterfalls in Britain and the highest loch in southern Scotland. Visited by the great man himself, and also featuring in Sir Walter Scott's 'Marmion', it is truly an impressive place.

We - me, mum, dad, Dave, and big bro Andrew set off towards the top of the waterfall; the walk was immediately steep and sharp, and a test to post-Christmas bodies. Lactic acid pumped through my legs pretty quickly, and so I worried whether I'd be able to go very far. But the steep incline evened out and soon it was a fairly level hike with the water on our left and the odd wild goat here and there. Eventually we stumbled upon Loch Skeen, southern Scotland's highest upland loch, at over 1,640 feet (500m) above sea level. It was beautiful.

Some nutter (mum) then decided we should climb the hill in the distance. We had decided against climbing White Coomb on account of poor visibility. However, we climbed the hill ahead, Mid Craig. It was worth doing; a short scramble, another challenge for the legs, but in poor weather. It also involved a hop, skip, and leap over the river, which proved entertaining:

The clinging mist turned to drizzle and then to that fine rain, the kind that soaks you through. At one point on the way up Mid Craig I couldn't determine whether it was sweat or rain pouring down my cheeks. We were drookit, but happy.

A short time at the top, some snow, and then a descent.

A most enjoyable walk, and yet another shifted from the 'must-do' list to the 'must come back in better weather' list. A beautiful part of the world. My thoughts were with Skye, as the scenery was, in places, unexpectedly similar. My thoughts were with Rabbie, his mare Maggie, who lost her tail, and the final part of Tam O'Shanter:

'Now, wha this tale o'truth shall read,
Ilk man and mother's son, take heed:
Whene'er to Drink you are inclin'd,
Or Cutty-sarks rin in your mind,
Think ye may buy the joys o'er dear;
Remember Tam o'Shanter's mare.'

Simply genius.