A pipe dream becomes reality

Major Brian Leishman, for it is he, has just won Scotland's highest award for tourism. At first sight he may seem an incongruous choice for an industry striving to prove itself a world leader, up there with the best of them in terms of innovation and modern visitor facilities. For it is as business manager of the Edinburgh Military Tattoo - a spectacle which relies upon its very sameness year after year for success - that Major Leishman has received the Scottish Tourist Board's Silver Thistle Award.

Appearances, however, can be deceptive. This is the 20th year that Major Leishman has run the Tattoo and in that time it has changed from being what he described as ``a cosy, comfortable, cottage industry'' to an event that costs #2.3m to put on, and with a souvenir shop notching up an annual turnover of #250,000. It is estimated that the Tattoo is worth #40m to the Scottish economy each year - there is nothing cosy or comfortable about the way it is run any more.

If its enduring success still rests upon the emotions stirred up by massed pipe bands skirling into the night air above the Esplanade of Edinburgh Castle, then why change a winning formula? Critics of Scotland's reliance on tartan, bagpipes, and kitsch must recognise that tradition is surely one of the strongest suits our tourism leaders can play to attract visitors.

Major Leishman, however, is not the dyed-in-the wool traditionalist some might expect. When he retires after the 1997 Military Tattoo, he will leave behind the proposal that the Tattoo's managing board look again at the plans considered in the 1988 Edinburgh Tourism Review, and subsequently rejected, that the event move to a new, permanent site within Princes Street Gardens.

He says the board's line remains that it is happy for the Tattoo to stay at its present location, but he is sounding a note of caution that considerations regarding the movement of people and rest area facilities may necessitate a move at some point, especially in the light of new tourism developments springing up near the Castle.

There are, after all, 8700 members of the audience and between 650 and 700 performers at each performance, all squeezing into a somewhat confined space.

He concedes, however: ``The Esplanade is the best site - anything else is not the same.''

That is not to say that future circumstances may not dictate a move. It is this willingness to adopt flexibility in thinking - a trademark, he says, of an Army training - that has undoubtedly led to his success in the post.

For, although Major Leishman may appear to be almost a parody of the ex-Army officer with his plummy tones, slightly outmoded vocabulary, and penchant for tartan trews, he has grasped the nettles of commercialism, marketing and salesmanship with considerable sureness of touch.

There is nothing of the upper-class snob in him, despite a privileged background and public school education. He has done every job in the Tattoo office, from looking after the ticket queue to selling the tickets. How else, he argues, could he expect to tell his staff how to do their jobs if he did not know what the jobs consisted of himself?

He is the kind of man who talks to waiters in their native tongue (he speaks fluent Spanish - picked up from his early years spent in South America - and Italian, which he acquired during a five-year posting to Italy, including a time as assistant defence attache in Rome) but is never condescending and would never, ever click his fingers at them.

He is, in fact, one of that rare breed, a true gentleman. Colleagues who have travelled on tourism roadshows to the United States and elsewhere with him testify to his ability to charm the socks off clients - they expect a military man to be running the Tattoo, but perhaps not one as courteous as he is. Tourism colleagues also testify to his insistence upon a smart appearance - if their shoes are not properly polished when he gives his daily inspection, they soon know about it!

He would never admit it, of course, but he probably plays up the military bit, knowing it pays dividends. For, while his policy is that everyone in Tattoo office must be capable of stepping into someone else's shoes, he acknowledges that it is up to him to go on the road and sell the event.

Anyone who thinks the Tattoo sells itself is wrong. Most visitors are first-timers from overseas - they may never come back, so the effort of promoting the event is a constant one. Major Leishman accepts that the event has probably reached its ceiling at around the 200,000 mark, although good summer weather over the last couple of years has pushed attendance well above its usual average of 92%. Last year the Tattoo hit an all-time high of 99.46% - friends promise they will buy the remaining 0.54% of tickets to make the event a complete sell-out.

Once retired, the link will not be completely severed. He will serve nine months as a consultant until the end of 1998, and thereafter as an ad hoc consultant for the next few years.

His job as business manager will be taken by the current producer, Brigadier Melville Jameson, who will oversee both functions and take on the title of chief executive - a move which Major Leishman has been arguing in favour of for some time.

He intends, however, to shed most of his other involvements, including his membership of the Edinburgh and Lothians Tourist Board, and Chairmanship of the Edinburgh Jazz Festival (here he does admit to being a traditionalist in his music taste - he will have none of that modern jazz).

Before he does so, however, many of our other tourism managers might do well to listen and learn to the voice of experience in an area which he admits has made ``monumental strides'' over the past 20 years, but which still has an ``attitude problem'' and a ``quality problem''.

On the one hand, he blames tour operators demanding packages which are unrealistically low in price, thereby driving quality down, and on the other, hoteliers who are prepared to be pushed below a certain standard.

The other side of the coin, he says, is ``grotesquely high'' prices charged by some hotels following trends set by London. The bubble will burst, he warns.

``When I go round the States, I am sometimes embarrassed at what we are going to offer them, that is, the people I am telling to come over here,'' he admits.

``Tourism is our major industry - we have got to get it right. We have got to get over the attitude problem and we have got to treat those people with respect and courtesy. They are spending money to come here,'' he adds.

While many in the industry are promoting special training events to counteract that attitude problem, he describes this as managers ``opting out'' instead of dealing with the problem themselves. ``If my people in the office were rude or difficult, I would take that as a personal affront, and equally I would feel that I had failed if I had to send them off to do someone else's course.''

He will not tolerate bad dress by his staff and, he adds: ``Smile is top of my list of dos.''

Inevitably when an accolade such as the Silver Thistle Award for Outstanding Achievement in tourism is awarded, it prompts reminiscences. Over 20 years in the post as the Tattoo's business manager there have been problems - the long-running legal action with the residents of Ramsay Gardens for one.

There have also been great highs, such as the naming and composition of a Strathspey, Major Brian AS Leishman, in his honour.

Few are lucky enough to be able to say as he does, however, as he nears the end of his career, that: ``Every day has been a total joy. I have never yet got up in the morning and said `Oh God' at the thought of having to go to the office.''

He would like to be remembered as a man who never knowingly did a dirty deed. Doubtless he will be. He will also be remembered as a gentlemanly giant, with the gift of bringing magic into people's lives - first by making what has been described as ``the biggest dance routine on the biggest stage in the world since Busby Berkeley'' operate with such apparent ease; and second, through his gifts as an amateur magician which have delighted audiences from his fellow prep school boarders, to friends across the world.