Hay's Way: The road to Boston for Scotland's first World Cup game in 28 years

A Brazil supporter, he told me about a conference he would soon be attending in Glasgow, where members of his international medical society were to be given kilts to wear.

‘I am not sure about it,’ he said.

‘I think it will be very uncomfortable, no? It’s basically wearing a skirt.’

I found it amusing that we were having this conversation in a row of seats behind three passed out Scotland fans in kilts from Glasgow. Hours earlier, I had been enjoying a pint at Reykjavik airport with them while waiting for our connecting flight to the US. One of the group, Iain, had leant in to me while offering me a pint and a cigarette saying: ‘We bring the party.’

Expecting football chants all the way across the Atlantic, the flight turned out to be far quieter than anticipated. The handful of Scotland fans on board sang their way through boarding, with one announcing they were "going to really make a noise once airborne so they cannae kick us off". By the time the seatbelt sign had been switched off, they were out for the count.

One of the highlights of the journey came as we flew over the southern tip of Greenland.

"We don't normally take this route," said my physician friend, who frequently travels in and out of Boston for work.

"It must be something to do with the wind currents."

Jagged granite and basalt peaks pierced vast snow-covered plains stretching to the coast. Colossal fjords, carved by ice over millennia and dotted with drifting icebergs, looked almost entirely untouched.

Touching down in Boston shortly after 10pm local time, I made my way to a hostel in the city centre, where I will be based for Scotland's opening two World Cup matches.

It might be obvious from Hay's Way that I enjoy travelling alone, but however many miles I cover solo, there is always a moment of apprehension when stepping into unfamiliar territory. In Boston, that feeling did not last long. Any nerves were swiftly dispelled by the tide of kilts and Scotland shirts pouring through arrivals at Logan Airport, carrying me with them to the city streets. At times, it feels as though I am still walking around Scotland.

Eager to get my bearings, I set out on foot, walking the streets until the early hours through a city that proudly wears its “Walking City” moniker. The sticky summer heat was inescapable even at night. Steam billowed from drains, traffic honked from every direction, and unfamiliar smells hung in the humid smog. Around me, Boston’s historic red-brick architecture stood shoulder to shoulder with gleaming modern high-rise towers of glass and steel. Clad in a personalised Scotland shirt, I was rarely alone for long. A passing member of the Tartan Army would offer a pat on the back, sling an arm around my shoulder, or steer me towards a bar already packed with fellow supporters.

Back in Scotland, large crowds gathering in Glasgow for an anti-racism march on the day of the nation's first World Cup match in 28 years were met by a small anti-immigration counter-protest. The scenes echoed wider tensions surrounding Donald Trump's immigration policies, which have left some supporters of competing nations unable to travel and, in some cases, seen approved ESTAs revoked.

On the ground in Boston, however, the mood could hardly be more different. Amid the build-up to the match, the relationship between locals, members of the Haitian community and travelling Scotland supporters has been marked by warmth rather than division.