The Burryman comes to town

azzuri · The Burryman comes to town

The Burryman comes to town

DIANE MACLEAN

EVERY year on the second Friday of August, during the Ferry Fair, a strange spectacle can be seen walking round the town of South Queensferry, West Lothian. What appears to be an accident between a man, a big jar of honey and a gorse bush wanders round and round collecting money and getting drunk. It could only happen in Scotland.

The Burryman is an ancient tradition, dating back at least 900 years, and is said to bring luck to the yearly fair. During the day, a local man is dressed in a full body costume made of flannel, before completely covering himself in burrs – (the hooked fruits of Arctium Lappa and Arctium Minus, to be precise). The Burryman must collect all these burrs himself, as well as flowers and ferns to decorate his costume. Once covered in his Arctium suit, the Burryman finishes off the ensemble with a flower-covered bowler hat, a flag cummerbund and two staves of flowers. It is a sight to be seen.

This will be John Nicol, a 32-year-old graphic designer's eighth year as the Burryman, a job he concedes few people would want to do, but which he considers an honour.

"It's an ancient tradition and I get satisfaction from having done it," he says. "It is so much an icon of Queensferry and I am only looking after the tradition for a couple of years."

Where this outlandish ceremony came from is a bit of a mystery. Some people associate it with a fishing ritual, to celebrate the fruits of the sea and propitiate the gods for further bounty. There has been a suggestion that the Burryman is a representative of the Green Man who pops up in many folklore traditions and represents vegetation and fertility. Yet others maintain that it commemorates the landing of Queen Margaret, from whom the town took its name, and whose husband hid from the English in a gorse bush.

Whatever the origins, his function is clear. The Burryman is there to vacuum up evil and spread good fortune for the coming year. It is an onerous undertaking.

"I take a week off work to prepare for it", says Nicol. "Me and my girlfriend and dad need to collect the burrs – over 11,000 of them. It can be a problem because the plants only produce seeds every two years and possibly due to the hot spell there are not that many around this year."

Once the burrs are collected Nicol is helped into his outfit by his dad and uncle, who will remain with him throughout the day. He puts on cords, T-shirt, long johns, long-sleeved thermal vest and balaclava onto which the burrs are stitched. It's unfortunate that Nicol is claustrophobic.

"Over the past seven years the day has never been easy, some years have been as pleasant as it can be, others have been really bad. I must be the only person on the day praying for wind and rain."

The Burryman starts his day early when he sets out with his two attendants. These aides hold his arms stretched out, which is not part of the elaborate look, but a necessity when you consider the weight of the costume and the adorned floral staffs that he carries. The two are also the eyes, ears and mouth of the Burryman, as he can scarcely see and hear.

It is considered lucky to give him money and a drink, and that is how his day starts. He leaves the centre of town at nine o'clock in the morning and immediately begins to fortify himself for the rigours ahead. First stop is the local pub where he is given money and a glass of whisky, which he drinks through a straw. Then it's on to the next place, and the next and … you get the idea.

If anyone out there is tempted to think the Burryman a lucky bloke doing an enviable job, then consider the one big drawback. He has to stay on his feet all day. Drink all day. And it is absolutely impossible to go to the loo. Still think it's a job in a million?

Nine hours walking (very slowly) round the town, drinking is utterly exhausting. It is an odd job, requiring stamina and a certain degree of nonchalance. Not everyone would willingly dress up in flannel and burrs with the aim of frightening small children. There are advantages to wearing the suit of burr. There's all that free drink for one, and the Burryman and his attendants are allowed to keep the money that they collect.

For Nicol, the joy of the job is in the camaraderie of friends and family, some of whom travel miles to encourage and support him. More than that, it's the sheer relief when it's all finally over.

"It finishes at 6.15pm and that moment is absolutely brilliant. Dad brings me to a chair at the back of the pub and I sit down and they cut me free. The best moment of all is when the balaclava comes off. The release… "

Nicol's voice fades as he savours the memory. What he omits to mention is the sore head he must have the next day.

http://heritage.scotsman.com/traditions.cfm?id=1145272006