Chatting on the train to Edinburgh, I couldn’t help but notice how excited my pal Mae was.

“I’ve never been to a firework display before,” she admitted as I began to read the highlights from the festival brochure.

“Set against the iconic backdrop of Edinburgh’s historic Castle, this spectacular event brings together stirring orchestral music from the Scottish Chamber Orchestra and magnificent pyrotechnics, specially choreographed by international fireworks artists, Pyrovision.

“I cannae wait.” Mae was like a five-year-old as I continued.

“A fireworks team based in the castle provides synchronised visual accompaniment. Four tonnes of explosives and around 400,000 fireworks will be set off during the 45-minute show.”

“I hated fireworks when I was growing up,” Mae confessed.

“I remember my wee dad lighting giant rockets which were in a shoogly milk bottle and yelling at us to go behind the wall at the stairs in case the rocket didn’t go straight up and shot towards us.”

We all nodded.

“I remember Catherine Wheels coming loose from the garden fence with flames shooting out and chasing us around the garden,” I added.

It was now Fiona’s turn to go down memory lane.

“I remember being terrified of the loud bangers and jumping jacks, and our poor wee dog Lassie would hide under the kitchen table shaking like a leaf until they stopped.”

“And I always panicked holding a sparkler as I couldn’t understand how it wouldn’t burn my hands or set my woolly gloves on fire.” Added Julie.

So all in all, we had different memories of our childhood firework experiences, but were so looking forward to what promised to be a magnificent display.

Standing in Princes Street Gardens, it was jam packed with people from all around the world who had been to the International Festival and who were now looking forward to the festival conclusion.

Next minute, a group of nearby loud Americans joined in our chat.

“I’m a descendant of the McLeeee….od clan.” A tartan clad woman seemed proud to announce the news of her heritage.

“McLeod,” I corrected.

“Yeee….es,” She drawled.

“McLeeee…..od.”

“And what about you?” I turned another tartan clad American.

“I’m a McGreeee……gor.”

But before I could get a word in.

“Gee, you know you Scots are soooo……. clever.”

I assumed she was referring to one of our world famous Scottish inventors like Alexander Graham Bell, James Watt or John Logie Baird, but no…..

“It’s soooo…. handy that you built Edinburgh Castle next to the train station.”

Thankfully we were interrupted by the booming of the music as the festival began because none of had an answer to that one and were all completely speechless.

Returning home on the busy late night train Mae seemed mesmerised.

“I’m so impressed with the firework display,” she enthused.

“And how the beautiful music synced in with the fireworks.”

We all agreed that the whole performance from start to finish was absolutely captivating as Mae continued her enthusiastic rant.

“The best bit was when the whole castle lit up and a huge waterfall of fireworks rolled down the castle walls….. Incredible.”

“It certainly was.” We couldn’t disagree.

“I mean, it was so professional,” she ranted.

“I’ve never ever been to anything like it.”

It seemed to me like Mae was comparing this grandiose spectacular to a few rockets shooting out of milk bottles in her back garden.

“Apart from the cost of the fireworks, they must have employed hundreds of people to light them all.”

We all gave each other a knowing glare.

“But Mae…..” My attempt to interrupt was futile.

“And how dangerous must it have been for them to scale the castle walls on ropes to light them all.”

“But Mae….”

“And… How clever was it that they set all the fireworks off at the same time.”

“But Mae….”

Our pal was on a roll.

“I mean, it must have been a major health and safety issue from start to finish.”

“Mae.”

Fiona finally managed to get a word in.

“Mae what are you talking about,” she shrieked.

“Do you actually think there were a hundred wee men scaling up and down the side of the castle with a match and a milk bottle single handily lighting 400,000 fireworks?”

“Well…”

We were all in hysterics as Fiona added.

“No Mae, it’s all done by display pyrotechnics.”

“Pyro…. Whit?”

“Mae, it’s all down to technology nowadays.”

“Someone presses a few buttons and the display is all set up to do the rest.”

Unusually silent and deep in thought, Mae piped up.

“I wondered how all those wee men up there managed to light their rockets at the exact same time as the music.”

And talking of rockets…….