What do you know about the Samhuinn Fire Festival?

If you’re anything like me, you probably don’t know much. And if I told you that Samhuinn takes place on the same day as Halloween, you might assume they’re the same thing. But Samhuinn has been a significant event since ancient times. It’s the pagan precursor to Halloween; the reason why so many countries celebrate all things ghostly every October 31st.

Samhuinn (also known as Samhain and pronounced ‘sah-wen’) is an ancient Gaelic festival which marks the end of harvest season and the beginning of winter. The Celtic people regarded it as their New Year – but they also knew that the approaching darkness meant the veil between their world and the next was at its thinnest. Expecting visits from spirits, gods and the souls of the dead led the Celts to set extra places at their huge feasts, to disguise themselves in costume to confuse Death from taking them, and to light huge bonfires to ward off evil.

And the tradition has continued for centuries. Every year on the last night of October, a windswept hilltop in Edinburgh plays host to an immersive performance which memorialises this ancient event: the Samhuinn Fire Festival.

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What’s the Samhuinn fire festival all about?

Edinburgh’s Calton Hill is a landmark that’s hard to miss. It’s right in the city centre and offers panoramic views right across Edinburgh – and the dramatic Acropolis structure, built in 1822 as a memorial to those who died in the Napoleonic wars, is pretty recognisable too.

Most nights, the top of Calton Hill is quiet and unassuming. But on Halloween it’s where the two kings of Summer and Winter, together with their cohorts, battle for control over the coming season. The battle is overseen by the Cailleach, a mysterious mother/goddess figure who helps decide the fates of the Summer King and Winter King. 

Over 200 performers bring this extraordinary event to life through acrobatics, fire spinning, dance, song, drumming and immersive theatre. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.

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Preparing for the start of Samhuinn festival

I walked towards the base of Calton Hill to see hundreds of people already waiting in line. Luckily I had a press pass from the Beltane Fire Society to flash at the security guards – but as I climbed the hill in the dark, I realised many of these eager attendees probably weren’t going to make it into the event. At least not before the action was already underway.

At the top of Calton Hill stood a cluster of figures singing softly in Gaelic. A row of silhouettes lined the far-off verge beyond them, standing against the sky.

I started to see how surreal this night might turn out to be.

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I walked around the gentle slopes of Calton Hill, getting the lay of the land. There were rows of white canvas tents strung with tiny lights; figures clad in heavy cloaks standing beside sets of drums; women dancing in tight circles on the damp grass.

I could feel the buzz in the air. It was hard to discern whether the scattering of people around me were audience members, or part of the performers.

As I looked around, I spotted a small pinprick of light from a fire staff carried by a single figure in a red boiler suit. He moved along the pathway and quickly gathered a procession of followers, all hoping to be the first to know exactly what was going on.

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Activity began to occur in multiple places around the site. Up the path moved a slowly walking troop of men – but to my right I saw five women dancing below an up-lit tree, and realised they wore masks on the backs of their heads, the faces twisted into strange expressions.

The group on the hill suddenly dispersed and I decided to follow. Around me, figures in boiler suits and head torches were lighting up the paths with fire.

I crested the hill and saw a group of strange creatures with crooked masks crawling on the dampened grass; balancing on their hands; growling at my feet. Shapeless forms appeared from behind the trees. Impassive characters stood in a state of stillness while carnage began to erupt around them.

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The arrival of the Summer and Winter Kings

It was chilling and totally engrossing, and I didn’t know whether to stay where I was or wander off to discover another part of the hill. But after a while I checked my map and schedule, and realised the first main event was about to start: the arrival of the two kings. I walked across to the Acropolis, nudging through the crowd to gain a better view.

Drummers in blue body paint appeared in a tight knot at the base of the Acropolis – and almost simultaneously a collection of nearly naked red figures tumbled down a flight of steps between the columns.

As the action and noise increased and people realised were the action was, the crowds began to swell, pressing tighter together. I felt the slow flutter of internal panic begin to build inside me.

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As the kings marched down the stairs, a cheer arose from the crowd. A group of fire spinners moved into view, their painted skin shining silver and their arms whirring as the flames danced.

Unfortunately I couldn’t handle the mounting anxiety anymore and forced myself back through the knot of bodies behind me until I found a patch of breathing space. The hillside below me was covered by more clamouring groups of the two Kings’ cohorts – clearly the performance was just as intense all across Calton Hill.

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Exploring the Samhain Festival

Over the next hour I walked slowly from performance to performance: from tight crowds and high-octane action to a lone storyteller reading out loud from a scroll of paper to a group of winged characters chattering in crow-voices around a fire.

As a slow drizzle of rain began to fall I watched the audience, too: the excited Spanish families, the wide-eyed children, the teenage couples hugging each other for warmth, the gangs of friends sipping whisky from their hip flasks – and the man who climbed a tree to gain a better vantage point.

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The rain grew heavier and my back began to ache. Although I kept seeing photo opportunities I wanted to capture, my fingers eventually became too numb to keep them out of my jacket pockets.

Eventually I decided the Samhuinn celebrations had got the best of me and begrudgingly admitted defeat,  joining the slow procession of equally exhausted visitors as they walked down the sloping path.

But hundreds of people still remained: encircling the groups of performers and staring intently into the bright fires scattered across the top of Calton Hill. I could have been at any point in history, witnessing the rituals and traditions maintained over hundreds of years.

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As the city far below us celebrated Halloween with trick or treaters and bargain deals on blood-red cocktails, I turned back for one last look at my experience of Samhuinn.

All I saw was an unmoving row of silhouetted figures with umbrellas raised against the eerily purple night sky.

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NB: The Beltane Fire Society kindly provided me with a complimentary ticket to the Samhuinn Fire Festival – but for £8 I would’ve happily bought my own. I highly suggest you do the same next year, and tell me how it goes!