In 1997, writing in the The Herald, Alex Salmond wrote:
“Wednesday: on the election trail in Perth and Kinross. Returning from a huge meeting in Crieff, I catch sight of the Hale-Bopp comet, lighting the sky above the Wallace Monument. This, I decide, must be an omen for the campaign.”
“Friday night: at the campaign meeting in Stranraer, I have to start my speech by shoe-horning people into the room. Driving north after the meeting, the campaign team is beginning to unwind. About seven miles outside Newton Stewart we stop to watch Hale-Bopp again.”
“Standing on the roadside, absorbed in this celestial wonder, we are disturbed by the commotion of a barking dog. A woman has emerged from a nearby house to investigate these suspicious-looking characters, silhouetted against the sky. Suddenly, the phrase ''no no, we're not burglars, we're admiring the comet'' sounds unimaginably lame. Fortunately, when we step forward, she recognises Alasdair Morgan. One short conversation later and a possible SNP vote has become a definitive ''for'', proving that it's never too late for an impromptu canvass”
This story is also recounted in the recent Press and Journal, where he recalls how he became hooked on astronomy after his father purchased a full set of encyclopaedias. He recalls:
“When I was a youngster I had very bad childhood asthma, and I was off school as much as I was there. When I was off I read these encyclopaedias from cover to cover. There was a whole one on astronomy, so I knew everything there is to know up to the year 1960. My knowledge since is less, of course, but I’ve picked up one or two things as I’ve always kept up an interest. In fact, I almost did astronomy when I went on to university as St Andrews had a great department and observatory.”
He was back comet watching in 2001, which he finally saw using binoculars close by the river Ugie.
“I finally got it and am really pleased about this and I’m staring. After about an hour or so, I notice that I’m getting frozen so I start trying to move, but I’d sunk. My sock came out my boot as I tried to pull. So there you have it – I was stuck in the marsh of the Ugie, comet-spotting. If you ever see a mad politician with a pair of binoculars in his back garden staring up at the sky, that’s what I am up to.”
“Wednesday: on the election trail in Perth and Kinross. Returning from a huge meeting in Crieff, I catch sight of the Hale-Bopp comet, lighting the sky above the Wallace Monument. This, I decide, must be an omen for the campaign.”
“Friday night: at the campaign meeting in Stranraer, I have to start my speech by shoe-horning people into the room. Driving north after the meeting, the campaign team is beginning to unwind. About seven miles outside Newton Stewart we stop to watch Hale-Bopp again.”
“Standing on the roadside, absorbed in this celestial wonder, we are disturbed by the commotion of a barking dog. A woman has emerged from a nearby house to investigate these suspicious-looking characters, silhouetted against the sky. Suddenly, the phrase ''no no, we're not burglars, we're admiring the comet'' sounds unimaginably lame. Fortunately, when we step forward, she recognises Alasdair Morgan. One short conversation later and a possible SNP vote has become a definitive ''for'', proving that it's never too late for an impromptu canvass”
This story is also recounted in the recent Press and Journal, where he recalls how he became hooked on astronomy after his father purchased a full set of encyclopaedias. He recalls:
“When I was a youngster I had very bad childhood asthma, and I was off school as much as I was there. When I was off I read these encyclopaedias from cover to cover. There was a whole one on astronomy, so I knew everything there is to know up to the year 1960. My knowledge since is less, of course, but I’ve picked up one or two things as I’ve always kept up an interest. In fact, I almost did astronomy when I went on to university as St Andrews had a great department and observatory.”
He was back comet watching in 2001, which he finally saw using binoculars close by the river Ugie.
“I finally got it and am really pleased about this and I’m staring. After about an hour or so, I notice that I’m getting frozen so I start trying to move, but I’d sunk. My sock came out my boot as I tried to pull. So there you have it – I was stuck in the marsh of the Ugie, comet-spotting. If you ever see a mad politician with a pair of binoculars in his back garden staring up at the sky, that’s what I am up to.”