Being a Scot [antikvár]

FOREWORD The lyres of time sang softly, I cared not how I fared, For free with the strength of ignorance. How could I have been impaired? My armour bright and virile Entombed a passionate heart. That nurtured dreams of fire. But to where, to where to start. Sean Connery 1951 My three great passions in life, apart of course from Micheline, my wife since 1970, are acting, sport (especially golf) and Scodand. Of the three I would put Scotland and Scottish politics first. For many years I campaigned for the reinstatement of Scotland's ancient Parliament and put my weight behind the second Scottish referendum of 1997.1 had a great affection for John Smith, who referred to devolution as 'unfinished business' and rigorously promoted it, before his untimely death, as the 'settled will of the Scottish people'. Fountainbridge, where I grew up, sounds rather Arcadian but it was far from that. Our industrial district was something of a grim no-man's-land far away from Edinburgh's historic Royal Mile, running down from the castle to the Palace of Holyroodhouse and the classical crescents and squares of the New Town. 'Auld Reekie' was the old Scots name for Edinburgh, called that for the amount of smoke that reeked from its huddled chimneys, trapped often by the sea fog known locally as the haar. The reek we savoured daily was at once sweet, porridge-like and pungent, as it poured out from the combined chimneys of a toffee factory, brewery and rubber mill where my dad put in long hours. When I came to form my own Hollywood production company, I named it Fountainbridge Films - an idyllic-sounding name derived from that less than salubrious district which I still remember with great affection. 8 SEAN CONNERY BEING A SCOT