CTSC Day 3

2014-08-05 Day 3–Bike Day

The "full Scottish breakfast" (blood pudding is to me just one sign that Klingons and Scots are closely related–Macbeth being the other) must have slowed me down, as it was late morning before I got organized to head out on a tour.

The Lochside had advised via email that bike rentals were available just around the corner and up the hill.

I thought this would allow me free run of the island, but I somehow managed to misread Google Maps so as to think Islay was half its actual size from end to end.  The bicycle itself was a single speed with a very stiff ride that transmitted the feel of the roadways quite effectively.  But I'd already booked my first tour at Bruchladdich and it would go against the rugged spirit of the Scots to back down and call a cab, so off I was.

It was a good workout and the GooMaps estimate of 40 minutes by bicycle was spot on, so I arrived in plenty of time for the scheduled tour.  To be honest, although I appreciated it for what it was, my only prior experience of The Laddie was their mainstream unpeated variety, which didn't have the kind of bold flavour that I gravitated towards (although I certainly appreciated the craftsmanship) so I wasn't expecting the range of styles on display.

I was a bit dismayed to later find that all these selections are in fact for sale–dismayed because however I chose I would have to leave the others behind.

Upon arriving, I learned that the 15:00 'warehouse tour' 'hooked up with' the 14:00 distillery tour I was booked into, and not wanting to overplan things I ponied up for that since it was only another hour and should allow enough time for me to stop in at Kilchoman afterwards.

There is not a lot of latitude when it comes to Scotch production–it's been going on for hundreds of years and by now the Best Practices have been worked out.  Bruchladdich and Bowmore are among those who malt and peat their own barley, but August is the 'silent season' so everything was shut down for maintenance.

I won't reproduce the specifics of the manufacturing process, if you have an interest a good account is given at http://www.whisky-distilleries.info/Fabrication_EN.shtml.

The mash tun, done in the distillery's signature colour.  While mash tuns aren't ever hermetic, this was the only one of the three I saw that was open to the air.

The wash tuns.

The wash still.

Spirit still and spirit safe (the brass and glass console to the left of the still), a fascinating apparatus through which flows all of the final distillate. It has controls which direct the flow and hydrometers for measuring the specific gravity and thus the alcohol content.

At this point our hostess passed around a sample of the First Make Spirit, the raw distillate from the still, at about 78% ABV–odd that this glass got passed around the crowd without concern for sanitization.  This is what you might call Scottish Moonshine and made me realize I probably would have been a poor distiller, because it seemed fine to me–I wouldn't have seen the point in letting it lie around for years.

Michelle, our tour guide.

My God, it's full of...barrels.

An inscription by the purchaser of one of the pre-sold casks.  Just as well they are not offering these any more.

A glass-bottom cask, showing the imparted colour.

Have that sent up to my room, please, just put it on my tab.

The Valinch cask in the visitor's center.  I'm not sure what '07' is but it's not the distillation year–this is in fact a 24-y.o. from 1989, so spans the time when the distillery was shuttered.  Note that on account of the Angel's Share, this is only 51.4% ABV.  Regardless, it made for my first acquisition, being a vintage that wouldn't be available anywhere else.

'Valinch' is the Whisky Thief, the tube used to siphon samples from casks.  More on that in a bit.

Chloe, she of the Warehouse tour.

A serving from the valinch.

The valinch will pick up bits of charcoal, this being from a bourbon cask.

Those who don't care to finish all their samples are at liberty to toss the leavings on the warehouse floor.  I couldn't bring myself to–I was taught it's impolite not to finish what I was served.

Just to prove I was really there, and still upright.

At this point I was pretty impressed.  It would have been better for the narrative flow here if I'd done this one last, but it turned out that this was the best tour of the trip.  The price of admission was redeemable against my purchases and along with the valinch I grabbed an incredibly peaty Octomore (I swear that back in my room my skin smelled of peat smoke) and a Botanist gin, just because I liked the way it was presented.



After closing out the deal, it was about 16:15, leaving me 45 minutes to make it to Kilchoman.  I didn't think this would be a challenge, but I hadn't mapped out the ride beforehand, going just off the roadside sign I passed in the way in.  In fact the "Farm Distillery" as they fashion themselves is a fair slog up a rough road.  The other thing I didn't count on was packing a couple of litres of hooch in sturdy bottles in my backpack.

Kilchoman, the farm distillery.

I turned off the A847 as indicated without knowing how long a ride I had ahead and lurched into the gift shop just as they were sweeping up.  There was no time left for a sampling and there was no way I was leaving empty-handed at that point, so grabbed a bottle of the single-cask offering and lurched back out.

The post office had also closed at 17:00 so I no longer had any deadlines to meet, but I had also heavied up the backpack even more.  Hence, a more leisurely trip back, with welcome pauses for a few more pix.

This joint, right across the street from the Lochside, served a lamb vindaloo that I considered 'adequately seasoned'.  So, proceed with due caution.

Belhaven Best, on the rear patio of the Lochside.

CTSC Day 2

2014-08-04 Day 2–Jet Lag Day

The only thing worse than flying next to a cranky kid is flying next to a cranky grown-up.  Next time, chump, spring for business class and the both of us will be better off for it.

75 minute stopover with plane change at Reykjavik Keflavik airport:  the only coffee machine in the terminal is broken.  Seriously?

Upon arriving, the object is to stay awake until the local bedtime.  I had a layover of about 6 hours in Glasgow and although FlyBE wouldn't check in my stuff until 90 minutes before departure, a luggage service took it for a reasonable fee.  An ATM machine promised cash with no fees (we'll see later how that works out) and an express bus runs from the airport to Buchanan Station about every 20 minutes, so I headed into town to kill time.  Perhaps I have a jaded eye, but there wasn't a lot to see. A better choice might have been a castle tour, but there wasn't enough time to set one up.  I went native and had a couple of pints of John Smith's for lunch.  A city is a city these days or so it seems:  buskers, panhandlers, Subway.

On the bus into town a foursome of remarkably well-behaved footballers tried to get a bonnie lass to tweet a pic of them, ostensibly for a charity scavenger hunt they were on.  She wasn't buying it, but having nothing else to do, I fumbled with my phone and burnt some of my data allowance obliging them.

At Islay airport while scouting out ground transport, I got a first-hand introduction to the Highland Midge.  Not as voracious as our own black fly, they are even smaller and annoying enough to drive me back inside the terminal.  Fortunately they appeared to only be interested in greeting new arrivals and did not make their presence known for the rest of the trip.

A short taxi ride from Islay airport to the Lochside Hotel.  The room is a lot smaller than the web pic would have you believe, but I didn't miss my daily stretching routine anyway.  European efficiency, including the in-line water heater.

While the room may not have been as luxurious as the advertising, the Lochside's single malt bar more than made up for that minor disappointment.  I expect that most aficionados would have the same immediate reaction as I did:  "I did not book a long enough stay."  I had a Bowmore 15 Years Old Darkest and didn't take notes–I was too tired and it seemed like I would be trying to bail out the ocean.

Obstructed view from the room–that's OK, not going to be hanging out here much.

CTSC Day 1

2014-08-03 Day 1--Departure

The best thing about modern international air travel is the endless series of opportunities for achieving a sense of accomplishment.  Hence, Vino Volo's cured meats plate, featuring caperberries:  for those of us who never get enough caper flavour.

And for this trip, I'm insisting on Flavour with a U.