The Scots gather together on the Champs Elysées
Kilted Scotsman in Paris
Yesterday, on one of the rare occasions that I lay feet on the Champs Elysée, I was confronted with a scene that, perhaps, this famous Parisian avenue will witness very few times. Streams of Scottish men in kilts lined the Champs Elysée in their dozens. Not a terrace in sight was void of a lively, but very respectable bunch of young Scottish lads lapping up the last of this year's summer heat.
Not that I expect otherwise, but the groups of Scots I saw yesterday did their country proud. With their pints at the ready – as opposed to the customary demi which they seem to prefer in France – the Champs Elysée highlanders were leisurely basking in the glory of their 56-10 crushing of Portugal in the rugby World Cup while gallantly dining, strolling and chattering amongst themselves in large groups of up to 30.
The inquisitive aspect to this slightly bizarre circumstance was that not one of these awe-inspiring groups of men intimidated or imposed themselves on passers-by through their boisterousness. My experience of English fans during last year's six nations was not quite so idyllic. Central Paris - particularly in areas where Irish pubs are as common as boulangeries - was a raucous and tense scene where the mixture of French and English rugby fans in the same vicinity brought about a high level of uneasiness.
It is possible that solid historical foundations between Scotland and France which has produced the world’s longest and most fruitful military alliance - notably against the English - is one reason to explain these differences in behaviour. After all, it was indeed a Scotsman who painted Joan of Arc’s personal standard. Furthermore, sixteenth and seventeenth century Scottish architecture is full of French influence. On the other hand, the entente cordiale is about as near as the English and the French have got to seeing eye to eye.
This weekend the English are in town to face South Africa followed by the Irish the following weekend who stand the formidable task of breaking down a strong French side.
Late last night, the Scottish rugby fans that I saw on the metro where drunk at last. That’s more like it!
