Feature: John Nicol is ready to put on his costume consisting of 11,000 burrs for the final time

COVERED from head to toe in thousands of prickly burrs, wild flowers hanging loosely from his hat and around his waist, every year The Burryman makes his way through the streets of South Queensferry, both thrilling and petrifying residents as he slowly marches past their homes.

"Yes, it is every bit as uncomfortable as you would think," smiles John Nicol, the man inside the costume. "But it's a fantastic tradition and I wouldn't have put myself through it if I didn't think it was great."

This time next week, John will be embarking on his 13th appearance as the town's Burryman, setting off for a day of touring every neighbourhood, his entire body engulfed in burrs - seed pods from the burdock plant. As tradition dictates, only tiny holes for his eyes and mouth are left uncovered, along with his hands.

It is a tradition that is understood to stretch back as far as 900 years in South Queensferry, taking place on the second Friday in August as the town's Ferry Fair Festival is in full swing.

But there will be no 14th year for 37-year-old John, who has decided to pass on The Burryman baton to another townsman - along with the pain of a day spent in a suit of plants and flowers, unable to sit down, scratch or go to the toilet with any sort of ease.

"I want the Burryman tradition to continue, but there are lots of people who could do it, not just me," explains the graphic designer, who works for Hibernian Football Club.

"I think there just comes a time and I am ready to hand over the role to someone else. For all we know, part of the tradition could be to get as many people as possible to participate."

Sitting in a deserted Easter Road Stadium, taking a break from his day job, he explains that nobody really knows how or why The Burryman was born.

"People don't understand it as there is nothing written down about its origins," he says.

"It is thought to be around 900 years old and there is mention of it in Walter Scott's writings, but only in the last 120 years have pictures emerged of it.

"One theory is that The Burryman used to go around the town to collect evil. This is because around this time of year boats would have been leaving Queensferry for the herring catch, but not all the fishermen would make a safe return.

"Every year Queensferry produces a bampot like me prepared to do it as there is a quiet respect for something we know nothing about.We simply follow on from what we know to be fact, even though there is nothing written down about it."

John was in his early 20s, a sculpture student in Aberdeen, when he got a call from his dad, "Old John", to see if he, "Young John", would be interested in taking on the role left vacant with the retiral of the previous Burryman after 27 years in the job.

"My family is from Queensferry, I grew up there and to be The Burryman you have to have that local connection," explains John, who is now based in Leith.

He jumped at the chance of becoming The Burryman and has never looked back, perfecting the role over the years thanks to the help of his parents, Senga and John Nicol, who live in Somerville Gardens, his uncle Alex, friends George Topping and Steven Cannon, as well as his fiancee, Emma De Loseby.

"The funny thing is, Emma is actually petrified of The Burryman," John laughs. "Apparently as a child she was in the back of the car once and he looked right into her window. She was scared."

But Emma casts aside her fears to join John's gang of assistants every year as they help gather the 11,000 burrs necessary for his costume, as well as helping him into it on the day and, more importantly, cutting him out at the end.

The process will begin on Sunday as John, a keen mountain biker, makes his way around the town to start collecting the burrs, going on to line them up on bread boards in his parents' garage.

Owing to their stiff bristles, they cling together without the need for John to glue them together or on to the thin clothes - trousers, a long-sleeved T-shirt and a Balaclava - he wears underneath.

"We make 27 panels and line them up in the garage," says John. "We keep a pile of burrs, just in case we need to fill any gaps on the day as well. I head to the Staghead early in the morning on the Friday where I stand on the dance floor and get ready.

"People cannot see it is me once I am in full costume and even for me, when I leave the pub and see my reflection in the mirror, I get a bit of a fright. It happens every year."

From there, at around 8.45am, John and his team of helpers start off on their tour, trekking the streets, greeting neighbours and accepting a drink of whisky from all those who wish to hand one over.

"I remember one year I had a splitting headache and I thought it was because of a dodgy whisky I had been given," he laughs. "I had to get one of my friends to get me painkillers, it was that bad. But when I took everything off that night, there were two massive wasp stings on my forehead. They must have crawled under and bitten me.

"I am always in a total mess - my whole body - by the time the suit comes off at around 6.30pm.It is a wonderful feeling when I am cut free."

This time, John will not have to worry about the threat of any potential "dodgy" drinks as earlier in the year, as part of a plan to adopt a healthier lifestyle, he quit alcohol altogether.

Instead of accepting the drams himself, he will now invite others to do so instead, opting for straightforward glasses of water as a substitute.

Of course, the question of drinking at all while encased in a suit of prickly burrs does beg one obvious question . . .

"I go to the toilet about 20 times before I get ready," John smiles. "Every last drop is gone. I try to control myself during the day, which usually I can, almost like programming your body to do something and just getting on with it. But if there is a real emergency, my friend cuts me out of that area."

With just days to go until the preparations for his final appearance as The Burryman begin, John admits he is feeling a little emotional about quitting the role, but also a sense of relief as well.

"It will be sad, but I am ready and I will continue to champion it and support whoever becomes The Burryman, in whatever way I can," he says.

"It is a tradition that means a lot to me and it is one that functions on a different level for everyone in the town. Dogs seem to be very confused by it, children love or hate it, and elderly people always seem happy when The Burryman comes to visit, making their way out of their homes to wave.

"I suppose the only way we could ever find out The Burryman's function is if we didn't do it for a year. And who knows what would happen?"