Songs of praise

While the outlook would make your heart skip a beat, today, for once, the Eiffel Tower and the gargoyles of Notre Dame can take a backseat. This morning the camera flashes are being reserved for an attraction of a much more unexpected sort: a display of undiluted Scottish tradition in the form of a sea of tartan, bagpipes, kilts and sporrans.

It is not a chance meeting of rugby fans readying themselves for the Six Nations tie but the start of Scotland In Montmartre, a bi-annual two-day festival bringing a slice of Scotland to the streets of Paris.

As the assortment of pipe bands, flag bearers, school children, singers and dignitaries shuffle into order before parading through the winding streets, a mix of tourists and locals looks on. Belgians Nicolas Devleschiudere and Olivier Foldes have travelled to Paris from their home outside Brussels for a weekend break. They seem a little bemused.

“We dream of going to Scotland one day,” Devleschiudere tells me, and now it seems as if Scotland has come to them in the most unlikely of locations. “It’s a little strange,” he adds. “When you think of Scotland you automatically think of the cliched images of monsters, ghosts, lochs, beautiful countryside, tartan and bagpipes. It’s the same for Paris -- Montmartre is a bit of a picture postcard cliche -- and now here both cliches are together. It’s bizarre but it’s beautiful.”

It is precisely this clash of cultures that festival organiser Michel Cadin loves. “It’s an improbable mix but it works,” he says, smiling. “Together it makes for quite an exotic and exciting celebration.” Cadin, the president of a local charity, is also a hotelier and the festival’s foundations were laid in 1999 when some Scottish guests came to stay at his hotel.

“I became friends with them,” he explains. “We kept in touch after they went home and then they came back several times. Then in 2000 one of them told me the Scottish Rugby Union would be coming to Paris for an event in 2001 and asked if it would be possible to organise some sort of celebratory event. That’s how the festival was born, so it’s a story of friendship -- a festival born out of a friendship.”

As Montmartre swells with the sound of bagpipes and Highland dancers take over the cobbled streets, it certainly seems as if the spirit of the Auld Alliance is alive and kicking.

“Vive l’Ecosse,” cry bystanders while another woman shouts into her mobile phone: “I can’t hear you! There are lots of Scottish people everywhere. It’s beautiful!”

Down on Rue des Abbesses, a busy thoroughfare lined with traditional cafes and boutiques, the noisy parade attracts much attention. Vanessa Nhlane, a Nigerian living in Paris, and her wide-eyed four-year-old daughter are watching the spectacle with wonder. “I know nothing about Scotland,” she says, “but the parade looks fantastic.” Her daughter looks on, captivated by the fanfare and intrigued by the music of the pipes.

The bands have come from all over Europe. Scotpipe, an Edinburgh piping group made up of friends who play together for fun, have had a particularly interesting experience. Despite spending the night sleeping in the fire station to save on costs they are in high spirits, perhaps partly due to the fact they had the honour of playing on stage with the dancers of the Moulin Rouge during the cabaret show’s finale the previous evening. The celebrated venue is a keen supporter of Scotland In Montmartre and besides having invited several piping groups on to its stage over the years they also regularly dispatch some of their dancers to add a certain je ne sais quoi to the official launch, which this year took place in the town hall of Paris’s 18th arrondissement.

Also present were former Lord Provost of Edinburgh Eric Milligan and James Thomson, restaurateur and owner of Edinburgh’s The Witchery restaurant, both long-standing participants in the event. Thomson received the civic honour of being named a Chevalier de la Commanderie du Clos Montmartre or Defender of the Auld Alliance this year. “I’m very humbled, it’s a great honour and it’s a fantastic event to be involved in,” he says. “Montmartre is a wonderful area full of artists and a real bohemian influence. There’s such a wonderful community, it’s like a village within the city and a perfect place to hold a festival like this.”

In busy Place des Abbesses, a cobbled square where the parade has come to a halt, two fire engines are parked squarely across one of the narrow streets and a group of firefighters teeter on the roof of the vehicle waving cameras and mobile phones in an attempt to capture the myriad of tartan, pipers and revellers. I ask a father and his young son what they think of when they think of Scotland. “Nature, salmon and sheep,” laughs the father, “but this is a fun event for the family.”

Later that night, despite Scotland’s defeat at the hands of the French at Stade de France, spirits are still high. The atmosphere is one of friendship as the torchlit procession makes its way through the winding streets. Supporters of both teams cheer on the participants as the light dwindles and the parade leads on through the dark. We end up in the small Place Charles-Dublin, a quaint square overlooked by pavement cafes, a potted assortment of shops, a theatre and the ubiquitous but beautiful Parisian apartment buildings with their folding white window shutters, flower boxes, rickety looking balconies, and -- for this weekend only -- a fine array of Scottish and French flags. The festival may celebrate Scotland but it also honours Montmartre. Cadin says: “It’s weird, but in a way it’s through this Scottish festival that you can discover some of the prettiest corners of Montmartre too.”

No festival celebrating Scotland would be complete without toasting one of Scotland’s finest exports. Sunday afternoon calls for a whisky tasting in the Commanderie du Clos Montmartre, a tiny building next to Montmartre’s own vineyard. It may be the last day of the festival but there’s quite a crowd gathered to sample the products before toddling off to the final event, a dinner at the celebrated Moulin de la Galette restaurant, where Michelin-starred chef Antoine Heerah is preparing a Scottish-inspired dinner. Stephane Malabel, resplendent in a French rugby shirt combined with a tartan bunnet and a swaying kilt, is here for the whisky tasting.

“I’d love to go to Scotland,” he enthuses. “I think it’s a wonderful country. My wife is from Brittany so there’s a real link there. This festival is a wonderful way of celebrating that fusion, and the friendliness between the nations.”

Morag Dunbar and Janet Weatherston, two Scots over for the weekend who have accidentally stumbled across the festival, agree. “People see tartan and they embrace you,” says Dunbar. To prove the point the women join Malabel in an impromptu rendition of Flower Of Scotland. The Alliance may be auld, but if this festival is anything to go by the special friendship between Scotland and France is still strong.

Getting there

Scotland In Montmartre is a bi-annual festival which runs ahead of the Six Nations rugby match in February. Easyjet has return flights from Glasgow and Edinburgh to Paris Charles de Gaulle from £52. Visit www.easyjet.com.