It was another windy day at the airport. Nothing, particularly unusual in that, Canarian residents might say. After all, it is the continuous gentle breezes that makes Gran Canaria such an idyllic place to live. Without these breezes, the island would be far too hot a place to live, let alone to work, during the summer months.

If you are an expat, you will possibly recognise that much of our lives tends to focus around the airport. Collecting friends and family from the airport is always a great delight, although returning them is often a very different matter. At other times, for me, regular visits to the airport are necessary to collect letters and parcels, as well as to have coffee in one of the rather good coffee shops in the airport.

I am often entertained by the antics of visitors arriving and leaving the island, and a few minutes watching returning holiday-makers in those endless queues at the Thomas Cook or Thomson check-in desks often brings its own rich rewards! I am continually amazed by the way in which those calm tour representatives mostly manage to keep their tempers under control! Recently however, my attention was drawn to the check-in desk for the flight to Morocco. It was, as usual, full of chattering men and women many of whom were dressed in elegant robes. Again, as usual, they were surrounded by massive boxes containing television sets, refrigerators, microwave ovens and washing machines. Certainly it is clear that they have a more generous baggage allowance than most of us are given for flights to the UK.

My eyes fell upon an elegant middle aged man dressed in a brilliant white robe edged with gold braiding (a jellaba). It looked splendid and, in many ways, reminded me of a bride-to-be - apart from the greying hair and beard, that is! This gentleman was clearly bored and being accompanied by several other men, who looked as if they were servants or aides, strode away from his collection of boxes and headed towards the door of the airport. He rummaged inside his splendid robe, no doubt in order to locate a packet of cigarettes or his mobile phone, and lo and behold an enormous gust of wind swept around him and lifted this gentleman’s robes high above him!

Initially the gentleman looked a little embarrassed, but regaining his usual regal serenity managed to pull the offending garment once more fully around him and immediately headed for the safety of the inside of the airport - the need for a smoke now forgotten for the time being. I can now reveal the answer to the question that I am sure you have been wondering. What was he wearing beneath his glamorous robe?

Pantaloons! The gentleman was wearing baggy, flowing, purple pantaloons that looked remarkably similar to those worn by Aladdin in the pantomime, cartoon and story books. They also looked very much like a pair of curtains that I remember my Auntie Gertie having in her dining room...

So, what of the Scotsman and the kilt? Sorry, actually it was just a ruse to get you to read beneath the title! After all, ‘What does a Moroccan wear beneath his jellaba?’ sounds nowhere near as interesting as ‘What Does a Scotsman wear beneath his kilt’ does it?

This article is part of the book 'Living the Dream' by Barrie Mahoney.

You can find out more about the author and 'Living the Dream' by clicking here: Living the Dream