An entry from Sinclair 2000: A Personal View by Malcolm Caithness

Friday 28th July

There was slight confusion about the departure time of the coaches from the Mount Royal as they, firstly, had to pick up the Cape Town Highlanders Pipe Band. They were in this country to take part in the Royal Tribute, which we saw last night, and the Tattoo next week. Their Commanding Officer David Mitchell (a Sinclair) had arranged two weeks earlier that they could be at our disposal for the weekend and we, at short notice, had arranged to take them to the Halkirk Games.

The band was not ready and we were an hour late leaving which was a bad start but thanks to everyone helping we had the luggage sorted and ready on the pavement for a quick loading and off.

The Capital Moat House Hotel coaches left on time. We saw them briefly at Blair Atholl - a successful stopping point - where they could spend a bit longer than planned and caught up fully at Aviemore for lunch. The mobile phone proved its worth as we had to delay lunch and it was a hot set meal at either the Cairngorm Hotel or No 1 Restaurant with Bruce Wilson (Nicky Sinclair's father). Just the job - hot soup and beef pie.

That noise again. One of the band pipers came through piping and my equilibrium returned to normal. We were all back together - a wee bit later than planned but that is not the end of the world. All the coach leaders had journey notes from Edinburgh to point out the various landmarks en route, which was making the trip more interesting.

What a great crowd we have with us - all such fun and determined to enjoy it. Spirits were right back on high as we set forth on the penultimate leg to Dunrobin Castle for tea. The sea haar [sea mist] was in but a few telephone calls soon confirmed that the falconry display - another surprise - would take place. Many watched that, went round the Castle and Gardens and had tea after the initial welcome from Lord Strathnaver, the son of the Chief of Clan Sutherland.

Rory, who had gone ahead from Aviemore with Shaun Williamson to pick up his hire car in Inverness, arrived just as people were getting ready to leave. I highjacked him and slipped away ahead of the coaches to the Ord - the County boundary. Ian from Noss and Ron were there, kilted and brandishing claymores, with the first of the welcome banners and the engrailed cross flag in place as planned. Rory was amazed, quickly changed into his kilt and got his pipes out in readiness.

Berrie, who was the only other person in on this one, was in the lead coach with instructions to go as slowly as possible but not to stop as it is too dangerous. We lined up, waited under attack from midges, and then Berrie was on the mobile to say they were almost there.

What a great sight as the first coach came into view around the corner and the clan was piped back into their homeland. Emotion took over completely and I will never forget it. The piping, the cheering from the coaches and the waving is a lasting memory as is the way the coaches tilted over as everyone in them moved to the left to see what was happening!

Back into the car and we soon caught up with my coach and flagged it down so I could reboard. In all the excitement I had taken the journey notes with me so they had had no commentary since Dunrobin so I had some catching up to do.

Another test for the planning was coming up. The coaches were going to different hotels (Weigh Inn, Ulbster Arms, Park, Station, and St Clair) and hopefully everyone had colour coded their luggage for the appropriate hotel and it worked. At each hotel there were at least two locals to meet and welcome the clan and see they were all settled in properly.

The minibus we had hired to transport the Strathmore household there and back from Halkirk was in position at the Ulbster Arms thanks to Patrick and Nicky Sinclair. Those in Thurso would have seen the other "Clan Sinclair welcomes you" banner strung across the entrance to the pedestrian precinct.

However, as much fun as the journey had been, we were all glad to unpack and get an early bed. Niven and his two drivers, including the ever helpful Daniel, Judy Fisken, Berrie and I crammed into his jeep and went to our hotel at Castletown where we were to stay for one night before moving into Thurso.

A shuffle round of coaches. Instead of the numbers that we had used to date there would be one allocated to Halkirk to cover the Ulbster and Strathmore groups and one each to the Station, Weigh Inn and Park. Those of us at the St Clair would "float" between them.

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