My Ivorian husband has been in the UK for many years now, but until recently had never visited Scotland. We flew up to Edinburgh to stay with my sister in Perthshire last year, and beforehand I wickedly convinced him that all Scotsmen wore kilts all the time and played the pipes at least once a day; that one ate only haggis and potatoes; that the mountains were enormous and resembled the Himalayas; that everyone spoke only Gaelic. I also (there's no limit to my wickedness) convinced him that he would need his own tartan, and should think about the design and colours and add a 'Mac' to his very African surname. He grew quite worried, and actually designed a rather nice tartan using felt-tip pens. My naughty sister was complicit in all this, and told him she'd ordered him a kilt ready for his arrival.
Arriving in Edinburgh after the flight, he looked about him and saw not one kilt, bagpipe, haggis or mountain. Luckily he twigged and started to laugh. I deserve to be divorced really...