Country diary: a visit to Britain's reindeer herders First came some very good news. Tilly had just attended the fifth World Reindeer Herders Congress in Inner Mongolia, where Scotland had been unanimously welcomed as the Association's 30th Member Region of the Association of World Reindeer Herders. The honour was given in recognition of the successful reintroduction of reindeer to the Cairngorms as well as for the authentic reindeer herding that goes with it. It was quite a gathering, with herders from Greenland and Scandinavia as well as the reindeer-herding peoples of Russia, Mongolia and China. Incredibly, too, there were elderly Chinese Evenki who remembered Ethel Lindgren as the very tall white woman who made some astonishing trips to the area on horseback in the Thirties. Tilly received another surprise when she was approached by a Norwegian herder who told her that while visiting the Sami inside the Arctic Circle in Sweden, she had been introduced to a "remarkable, good and funny book" about reindeer, written in English called Why the Reindeer has a Velvet Nose. Yes, I know - that's one of my Quite Right stories - Annie Tempest drew the pictures. But it is still quite a coincidence, and confirmation that we live in a very small world. What Tilly found really encouraging was the fact that in many areas traditional reindeer herding is still very strong, although in some parts the way of life is under great pressure from "progress" and "civilisation." One important factor in the association accepting Scotland into membership is the fact that the Cairngorm herd is permitted to range over the hilltops for much of the year in natural habitat that is entirely suitable for reindeer - their presence in the Cairngorms is a genuine successful reintroduction of an indigenous large mammal that had become extinct. Many English reindeer on the other hand are kept enclosed in quite unsatisfactory conditions and keeping them cannot be described as "reindeer herding." In fact, with some English reindeer there are real welfare issues, which Defra seems reluctant to address. On arrival home, clutching a blue Chinese dress, Tilly was ready for the Highland wedding, near Tomintoul, of her son, Alex. Alan exchanged his hill running shorts - he is a Scottish hill-running international - for his kilt, sporran and sgian-dubh, the traditional knife a Scotsman wears in his sock. Like father, like son: just like his father, Highlander Alex was marrying a girl from the deep south of England, Dorset, with an accent not far off "cut-glass." Emily Singleton is an attractive, bright and funny girl, and just like her prospective mother-in-law, She had headed north as a "reindeer volunteer" and stayed. The wedding was an astonishing affair, tribal and spectacular, with a proudly dressed Scottish clan meeting rural Dorset, two groups as unlike as Maasai to Kikuyu. Because of their part in the union, reindeer with impressive antlers were allowed to mingle with guests on the lawn. There was another tribe represented, too. John Erling Utsi, nephew of Mikel Utsi, and his daughter Sofia, from Jokkmokk, northern Sweden, were present in full and traditional Sami dress. The only downside was at the reception where there was a vase of yellow flowers on my table only - it was ragwort. Disgraceful. Alex was in clover, he told me. It's been really good. In fact I've enjoyed it so much I would like to have another wedding next year. He then departed with Emily on their honeymoon, driving an old Morris Traveller into the sunset and with one of their "bridesmaids," Tip, a New Zealand Huntaway sheepdog riding in the back. At sunrise I was one of the few that rose with a clear head, and to what a scene ... Scotland in late summer is incredibly beautiful, the purple of the heather blending perfectly with roadside strips of mauve rosebay willowherb. The rowan berries were already orange-red with blackbirds, starlings and jackdaws feasting before the arrival of the redwings and fieldfares. Then suddenly there was a roebuck, surely Britain's most beautiful and graceful deer. He bounded uphill, leapt two fences and was gone. Soon there would be new arrivals flying along the valleys as geese come in from the far north, heading south. Then with the first frosts the larch will turn to copper and then gold and the salmon will be running upstream to breed. Later, Lulu and I headed south. I have to relieve my helpers on the farm before greeting red squirrels on Tresco, and then there will be the CRT's 20th anniversary event in London in late October. But I always leave Scotland with great reluctance. 'Why the Reindeer has a Velvet Nose' by Robin Page is available as part of a five-pack of Quite Right Stories, £29.95 + £1.35 p&p (rrp £34.95) from Telegraph Books (0844 871 1514)