Chief Of Clan MacLeod Hates Haggis, Porridge

Press, Volume CIII, Issue 30603, 20 November 1964, Page 2

Chief Of Clan MacLeod Hates Haggis, Porridge

A true Scot who enjoys neither haggis nor porridge and an 86-year-old grandmother who has more energy than most women half her age, Dame Flora MacLeod, Chief of the Clan MacLeod, arrived in Christchurch last evening.

“Haggis is a horrid dish,” she said, “though Bums did write a fine poem about it.” And porridge ? “No. I’ve never liked it. But I think oat cakes are delicious. I like my oats dry—not all soggy in porridge.”

After a long day that in-1 eluded a drive from Dunedin, with a stop at Oamaru for a clan luncheon, Dame Flora MacLeod was still bright and cheerful, and willing to talk* about her most recent travels• to meet members of her vast: "family," after a late dinner last night It has been a very busy year for Dame Flora MacLeod. As well as the clan banquets she has attended in many places, including Canada and the United States, she took a very active interest in i the recent British election—l she helped her grandson, Patrick Woolridge Gordon, Conservative member of Parliament for East Aberdeenshire, in his election campaign just before she flew to Australia. “He retained his seat with a very big majority of 7500 we were thrilled,” said Dame! Flora MacLeod. “But I am terrified by the present Government—they are i acting like a bull in a china shop." This is Dame Flora MacLeod’s third visit to New Zealand. She was last here seven years ago. “I think New Zealand hasi grown a great deal—what I remember as large villages in 1957 have turned into' cities," she said.

On this trip she is accompanied by her niece. Miss Mary Northcote. They leave Christchurch next Wednesday to fly to Australia. Tonight Dame Flora MacLeod will attend a clan buffet dinner in Christchurch. On Sunday there will be a Clan MacLeod church parade at St Andrew’s Church and, in the afternoon, a MacLeod family

picnic in the Botanic Gardens, to give young MacLeods an opportunity of meeting their clan chief. “And," said the small, gracious and indominitable Scot from the dairy Isle of Skye (where her Dunvegan Castle “has fairies instead of ghosts”), “I am going to tell the children fairy stories. . . .”