IT is not every day in Musselburgh that folk commuting to Edinburgh are entertained by a choir.

At eight o'clock yesterday morning, however, they were.

Beneath a blue sky and a sweltering sun the Clark Community Choir ran through its impressive repertoire. This included its version of the old Turtles hit Happy Together which, as one of the singers was at pains to point out, had nothing to do with the forthcoming referendum and all to do with the Queen's Baton's entry into East Lothian.

As buses passed, choir members waved flags proclaiming: "We're Loud and We're Proud", "Don't Drop It" and "Here We Go To Glasgow".

From the outset there was a carnival atmosphere, albeit on a miniature scale.

A total of 122 people had the honour of transporting the baton through the Honest Toun and along the coast of the Firth of Forth as far as Dunbar before heading back via Haddington to where it started its journey.

"It's very bizarre and quite surreal," said Liz Brodie, a former Honest Lass, as she listened to the choir and observed two stilt walkers - Ariel Killick and Jillibalu - seize the opportunity to hand out leaflets for a festival celebrating Aboriginal culture.

Ms Brodie's nephew is 21-year-old swimmer Cameron Brodie who has been selected for the 200 metres butterfly at the Commonwealth Games. For the first time in many years, she said, she would miss Musselburgh's annual festival to watch her nephew compete at the Games.

The baton relay was an act everyone wanted to get in on, including East Lothian Council's chief executive Angela Leitch. "I'm so excited," she said, as she posed for pictures with the baton. "I don't normally like this kind of thing but I can't pass up the opportunity."

Neither, it seemed, could the area's provost, the memorably named Ludovic Broun-Lindsay, or any councillors who had managed to get up early enough.

"Who wants to touch the baton?" asked a policewoman, disconcertingly garbed in shorts, t-shirt and trainers.

Many did, most of them from Campie Primary School, one of whom wielded it as if it were a baseball bat.

Slowly the baton made its way down the high street and towards Prestonpans, Cockenzie and Port Seton, Tranent, Longniddry, Aberlady and Gullane. This is what's known locally as the "golf coast".

One woman, who was wearing a baseball cap, was distinctly unimpressed. "All that palaver and it wasn't even shiny," she remarked to her companion. "I'm away to get my breakfast. I'm not usually up at this time."

An impressive crowd had gathered in Tranent, most of whom had come to support Kai Wood who was carrying the baton in the place of her brother Kyle who died in April a few days after he was told he had been selected to run with it.

John Greig was eager to give his home town a good press. "Tranent," he said, "is one of the cradles of the Industrial Revolution. We were digging for coal here long before Marco Polo brought it back from China."

Inhabitants of Tranent, he added, are known as Belters, for which, suggested Mr Greig, there are two possible explanations.

One may be to do with the rivalry between Tranent and Prestonpans which has been known on occasion to spill over into fisticuffs. The other reason, he added, could be because locals speak so fast they're almost impossible to understand.

By now the streets were lined with cheering children released from their studies for an hour or so. "We cannae see! We cannae see!" two young lads chanted. "Please tell me you saw it after all that," said their trauchled teacher.

But in truth they didn't seem all that bothered. It was more important that they were there on a memorable day in their neighbourhood's history.

It would be something for them in due course to tell their grandchildren.