Gathered Together In A Cave And Grooving With A Pict

There is a town in Scotland, about two thirds of the way between Aberdeen and Dundee, named Aberlemno. In many respects to the casual passerby or passer through (that would be me, in this case), Aberlemno is no different than many other Scottish towns and villages out there. There are fields used for farming as far as the eye can see. The roads are seemingly all too narrow and are edged with earthen berms topped by low stone walls. Maybe there are some sheep here and there. And there is an astonishing lack of actual buildings around for people to live in, although there always seems to be a parish church of some type somewhere around.

We drove through Aberlemno on a Tuesday afternoon in June. Our passing through there was no accident. In fact, it was quite deliberate. Because, really, as much as Aberlemno might resemble a lot of other Scottish towns, in one respect it is actually quite remarkably different: if you drive to the right spots in Aberlemno, you will find some carved stones standing by the side of a road or in a churchyard which have been there for more than 1,200 years. That, to us, seemed like a good reason to visit on a Tuesday afternoon, especially since we happened to be traveling from Aberdeen to Edinburgh (and past Dundee) on that very same day anyway.

The four stones in Aberlemno that we made our way deliberately to visit were carved by a group of people called the Picts between (and I guess this is estimated) 500 and 800 C.E. They weren't the only stones carved by these people found there. There were at least two others, one of which was lost (I don't know how you lose a piece of stone taller than a person...) and one of which was relocated to a museum in Dundee. They are still looking for others.

Our planned stop in Aberlemno made me wonder...who were the Picts and what else is out there in Scotland that might have been left behind by these people? Turns out there's actually quite a bit of mystery surrounding the Picts. And they sure did leave a lot of stuff behind.

Detail, top back side of the Roadside Cross, Aberlemno.

If you had asked me before our trip to Scotland this year to sum up the last say couple of thousand years in that corner of the planet, I'm not really sure how good a job I could have done. I could probably have spit out something about Hadrian's Wall in the second century C.E. and probably could have thrown out names like Robert the Bruce and William Wallace before boldly claiming that Scottish resistance to English rule was brutally squashed at the Battle of Culloden. Beyond that? Railways and bridges and ships, maybe? Industrial revolution and all that stuff?

But the details and the timing of all that? Maybe not so clear. I might not even have been close to within a hundred years or so.

Now if you had really pushed me for some more details on this history stuff, I might have used words like Picts and paganism and Celts and Gaels and I might have intertwined and interrelated all these concepts. But honestly, I just wouldn't have had the faintest real clue. So faced with a town like Aberlemno where there was a real opportunity to fill in some giant gaps in my understanding of Scottish history...well, I was all in! I needed to know about these Picts. And I guess the Gaels and Celts too if they happened to be in the story.

Maclean's Cross, Iona.

So first of all, the Picts were not what they called themselves. Apparently, the name was what the Romans called the people living in the north of what is now Britain. You know, the part of the island that Rome could claim they conquered but then couldn't hold on to. The Picts (or whoever they really were) weren't much help here with their own name or names. They had a tendency to not write stuff down so whatever they were called as well as what they did or built and how they lived is all pretty much lost to history.

And there were Celts and Gaels in the mix here who may or may not have been the same people as the Picts. The Celts were a peoples who were living in the British Isles before anyone who kept any sort of history at all was around that part of the world. The Celts were just there in Britain at some point when other groups (like the Romans and the Vikings and the Normans) started showing up and trying to take over. The Gaels were from Ireland, but they definitely had a presence in Scotland, particularly on the west coast near...well...Ireland. Big surprise there. So yes...Picts, Celts and Gaels...all in Scotland at some point. But let's stick with the Picts for this post.

For some reason, and I know it's my own personal cultural bias in operation here, I assumed that the Picts north of The Wall (of Hadrian) were all pagans. Which is totally true. Long ago, before history was written down in northern Britain, the people living there worshipped nature and maybe gods long forgotten. There were certainly offerings and sacrifices (not saying human, necessarily) for things like good harvests, and they built rings of stones and other temple-like places to seemingly relate to things like the solstices.

At some point, paganism started to fade and Christianity made its way to the Picts. Not likely through written books translated into English or Olde English or any other sort of written language. Likely there were monks or missionaries or priests or saints (or whatever) that started to reach the people in the north and talk about Christ and the gospels and all that. Eventually, stuff began to stick.

Two of the stones at Aberlemno. The Serpent Stone (top) and the Roadside Cross (bottom).

In Aberlemno, you can see hints of all of this transition between religions and much more.

As you drive into town, there are a series of three large stones on the left hand side of the road, carved to various degrees of precision and detail. Two of the stones (known today as the Serpent Stone and the Crescent Stone) depict symbols from nature, one clearly marked at the top with a depiction of a snake and the other less clearly carved with some faint crescent shapes. Maybe the moon. Although the plaque next to the Crescent Stone does not make that speculation.

The third stone, and the most massive of the three, is an intricately carved cross with angels flanking either side of the shaft of the cross on the front of the stone. On the rear face of the stone, there are representations of a hunting scene along with a centaur gathering medicinal herbs and David saving his flock of sheep from a lion. At the top of the back side of the stone, there is the same crescent shape (shown above) found on the Crescent Stone and some Pictish symbols, similar to those found on the Serpent Stone.

If there's any evidence needed that the Picts were both pagan and Christian, to me it shows up clearly in these three stones. Two of the three are devoid of any reference to Christianity; the third is a clear mixture of the two. For me, though, the fact that these stones show a transition from paganism to Christianity isn't the point here. I mean it's cool as an indication of history, I guess, but that's not what I got out of our visit to Aberlemno.

The real beauty in these things for me is the fact that they have lasted more than 1,200 years and that they are carved so intricately by a peoples who must still have been using most of their waking hours just to stay alive. I can't imagine what the people who made these things would have thought if they knew someone in the 21st century from an ocean away was driving by in a rented Honda Jazz to look at what they carved. It staggers my imagination.

The Crescent Stone. The carvings are barely visible but it is like 1,500 years old or something.

If I was impressed by the three stones by the side of the road (and I was), I still had one more to see at the Aberlemno Parish Church in the middle of the graveyard. It was placed there after the church was built, rather than the church being built where the stone stood.

The churchyard stone is the most interesting of the four stones we saw in the town, not only due to the artistry and the intricacy of the carving but also for the historical document that it is. There is a large cross on one side of the stone which is carved in what I can only articulate as a Celtic design. The cross itself is filled in with patterning that looks sort of rope-like, much like the jewelry we saw in souvenir shops in Ireland almost three years ago. Animal figures fill in the space between the cross and the edge of the stone.

The other side depicts a battle scene, what historians believe might be the Battle of Dún Nechtain in the year 685, a battle waged between the Picts and the invading Northumbrians led by King Ecgfrith. The Picts, as carvers of the stone, clearly won. This scene represents not just a work of art but a story told by people who are no longer around to be able to relay their history. I know I just poo-pooed the historical nature of the other three stones but this one is way cooler. This shows an actual event, not just a change in religious representation or focus. I'm sure the battle was way more chaotic than the stone represents, by the way. And I'm sure King Ecgfrith didn't succumb to the raven attacking him in quite the way the stone shows.

The Churchyard Cross, front side and back side, Aberlemno.

Aberlemno was actually the last place on this trip that we visited to see stones that were carved by the Picts. In terms of quantity and variety, it was clearly the best. There was no other site we visited that had more than one. But we did see others that were perhaps better quality.

Aberlemno was the last Pictish stones site that we added to our itinerary. The first places I planned on this trip were the Hebridean islands of Islay, Mull and Lewis and as it turned out there are ancient Pictish stones on the Isle of Islay and on Iona just off the west coast of Mull. We actually started building our Pictish stones journey from those places and couldn't resist the quick detour off the Aberdeen to Edinburgh path once we found out about Aberlemno. Visiting a single stone doesn't tell the same sort of story as visiting four in one site, but I think there was still a lot of value in chasing these things down.

Perhaps the most famous and most important of the carvings we found was Maclean's Cross on the Island of Iona. Maclean's Cross was produced way, way later than the stones we found at Aberlemno. It was placed on Iona around the year 1500 as a marker for pilgrims on their way to Iona Abbey, one of the most important early centers of Christianity in Scotland. The cross is enormous and covered with carvings of patterns around a central picture of the crucifixion of Christ. Unlike the stones in Aberlemno, it's actually cross shaped. As a work of art, it's impressive, particularly in its size and detail. It's also probably most famous for being where it is as much as for what it is. Among its many claims to fame, Iona Abbey may have been the place where the Book of Kells, now prominently on display in Dublin's Trinity College, was written before it was moved to save it from potential raids by the Vikings.

The back side of Maclean's Cross, Iona.

I can't say if someone who knows way more about this subject has ever produced any sort of list of the best Pictish carved stones in Scotland or anything like that. If there is, I'm not sure what we saw at Aberlemno or Iona would make the list. Impressive? Sure. Even the fact that these things are still around today is impressive. But I'd have to think the first stone we looked for and found might stand a chance of making such a list. That stone would be the Kildalton Cross on the Isle of Islay.

I don't know what it is about the Kildalton Cross exactly that makes it so impressive, unless I just say it was everything about the Cross that blew me away. Of all the carvings we found on our trip, this was clearly the most complex and most well executed. Its form is a ring-headed or Celtic cross, a crucifix with a circle superimposed at the crossing of the two arms. It's massive and it's intact, which is super-impressive considering it dates from about the year 700, older by far than Maclean's Cross and perhaps even older than some of those at Aberlemno.

The decoration on the Cross is detailed with patterning and biblical scenes and the decoration is not only carved into the plane of the cross but also "attached" to the front of the cross. I guess "attached" is the right word, although maybe not if the Cross was carved from a single stone. It is a true work of art. It's also in the same spot it was originally erected in the courtyard of the former parish church of Kildalton. It's incredible that it's even in this spot still standing. The things this cross must have seen over the last 1200 or 1300 years...

Kildalton Cross, Islay.

There were two other factors working in favor of Kildalton Cross being the most impressive we saw in Scotland. First, the weather was perfect. The sun shining on the front side of the cross made every carved piece of the stone pop to life. I know it's superficial to credit sunlight as making a carving more memorable but it was absolutely true. We had great weather much of the time we were in Scotland but not at the exact times we were on Iona or in Aberlemno. The sun helped Kildalton Cross immensely.

Finally, Kildalton Cross is frustratingly challenging to get to. It's located past the three southern coast of Islay distilleries after the two lane paved road becomes a two-way, one lane road which is definitely a bit more overgrown and not-cleared than a lot of the other two-way, one lane roads we traveled down in Scotland. And there's actual traffic coming the other way and not exactly plentiful passing places. Make it all the way to the old parish church and your reward is the finest piece of Pictish carving we found in our limited search in Scotland. The journey definitely makes the payoff better.

The magnificent front of Kildalton Cross in full sunlight.

Our pilgrimage to find ancient Pictish carvings in Scotland was really a result of finding out that these sorts of works were in places where we were going anyway. We went to Islay to learn about whisky; we went to Mull to see wildlife; and we had to travel past Aberlemno on the way from one place we really wanted to go (Dunnottar Castle south of Aberdeen) to the final stop on our Scotland trip (Edinburgh). We thought taking a quick detour on Islay and Mull before hitting Aberlemno would string together some similar sights that would get us a little bit of exposure to a bit of history made by peoples whose history is mostly long forgotten. Or maybe it's preserved in what we saw and many other similar carvings that we didn't see.

In many ways, it would have been a better experience if we had made the trip in reverse and ended up on Islay last. It would, I think, have made Kildalton Cross that much more impressive. But that's not how we planned this trip and I have no regrets about doing it the way we did it. If I ever get back to Islay, I will have to go back to the old Kildalton Parish Church. Not holding my breath there. For now, I'll stick with the memory of 2022. 

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How We Did It

Of all the carved stones we found in Scotland, Aberlemno is probably the easiest to get to, if for no other reason that it's on mainland Britain. We just plugged in Aberlemno into our navigation app and after taking many lefts and rights on the (barely) two lane road to the town, we drove past three stones on the left hand side of the road. There's a parking lot just beyond the stones that has some informational signage and replica stone depicting the battle scene of the Churchyard Cross. Park the car, cross the road (remember traffic is on the left) and walk down to see the Roadside Cross, Crescent Stone and Serpent Stone. If you want to see these stones, better come when it's not winter; apparently they cover them in winter to protect the stones from the elements.

The parish church can be found by traveling a bit further north up the same road and taking a left toward the church. We didn't find any sort of parking at the church but just pulled over and accessed the courtyard. I'm not sure we parked legally but there was literally nobody in sight. No harm, no foul here.

Getting to Kildalton Cross and Maclean's Cross is a bit more involved because it will involve at least one boat and a combination of two more boats or planes. To get to Kildalton Cross, drive east from Port Ellen past Laphroaig, Lagavulin and Ardbeg distilleries and follow the signs to the Cross. There's also a walking trail on the south side of the road but it's a long walk all the way to the Cross.

We found Maclean's Cross by being dropped off at the ferry landing on Iona and walking straight up the hill and hanging a right after passing the ruins of the old nunnery. It's not much of a walk to the Cross and you can't realistically walk past it without missing it.

My understanding of the history of the Picts and the Gaels and the Celts and when they worshipped nature vs. Christ wasn't helped much by any of our visits to these sites. I managed to find a book called A Pocket History of Scotland at the Battle of Bannockburn Experience near Stirling which told me pretty much all I needed to know about Scottish history in an easy to read format. It cost me all of £5.99 and it's been worth its weight in gold. I can't remember buying a book this small for this low a price that has helped me so much, although I'll dispute the "pocket" label just a bit. Not saying I don't have pockets I can fit this book into, but I certainly have a lot of pockets that it won't fit into.

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Don't Pay The Ferryman

Our trip to Scotland in late June and early July of this year lasted almost exactly two weeks. I mean that quite literally. We spent 14 days there almost to the hour from the time we crossed the Scottish border heading north to Glasgow to crossing the same line heading back south to England. That's about 336 hours of time, if you are inclined to do the math. Clearly, I was.

Of those 336 hours north of the border, we spent an awful lot of time on boats. Like an astonishing amount of time. We sailed (sailing here means a boat with a motor; there were no actual sails involved on this trip) on small boats with about 10 other people to massive boats seemingly capable of spending long hours at sea in all sorts of weather. We left the shore in search of puffins, gannets and other sorts of birds; floated past world famous whisky distilleries right on the shoreline; and roamed around the largest loch in Scotland (and largest body of water by far in Britain) in search of monsters that never bothered to have the common courtesy to surface right next to our vessel and make us internationally famous.

But of all the boats we set foot on during this trip, we spent by far the most amount of time on ferries moving us back and forth between the mainland of Scotland and the Hebrides, the string of islands on the west coast of the country. By my count, we spent about 16 hours either on these ferries or waiting to get on these ferries. And they were worth pretty much every minute of it, and not just because we needed them to take us and our trusty Honda Jazz to some amazing places. 

So I'm thinking the ferries deserve a post, right? I mean almost 5% of our total trip was spent on these things. I wrote a post about gannets and our looks at those birds lasted less than an hour. And to be completely frank, we probably spent more than 16 hours with the wait times. We are always early, after all.

Early morning sail from Islay to the mainland (top); and leaving Ullapool en route to Lewis (bottom).

So honestly, if we really wanted to go to the islands of Islay, Mull and Lewis (and we did), we pretty much had to take ferries to get around. Sure, we could have flown to each island, leaving our car at whatever airport on the mainland we flew from and picking up some sort of transport on the islands, but that seemed way more complicated. The ferries (all of which were operated by Caledonian MacBrayne, or CalMac for short) were an essential part of our trip that ultimately probably crossed that line from necessary commodity to beloved travel partner by the end of our time in the Hebrides.

Maybe "beloved" is a bit of stretch but there was for sure a special kind of kinship with the CalMac ferries that we picked up during our first week in country. Part of that love (or whatever it is) is the romance associated with certain types of travel. Most of our time getting away is probably spent in planes and cars, two decidedly non-romantic types of travel, unless we are talking about a seaplane or something like that (like the one that took us to Dry Tortugas National Park in 2014). But if we start talking about moving from place to place on a boat or a train, now we are talking about a mode of travel that definitely makes me happier and more relaxed. 

There is something about being on a boat on the open water (and to clarify, we are talking calm water here) that is relaxing and peaceful. Just the ocean or sea as far as you can see with specks of land in the distance marking your departure point and destination or just an island or shore that you are passing by. It's slow. It's serene. It's exhilarating being out on deck watching it all. It's amazing.

I know...it's not a sailboat. It's a ferry. It has a pace to it that's plodding and unexciting on the surface. And those big engines are working hard and probably using all too much energy to get us from port to port. 

But there is a throwback quality to ferries that appeals to me. They are not fancy but they are the ultimate short and mid-distance people movers on the water that have been around for a long, long time. It's even better if you get to drive your car on and off them (which we did on six of the seven CalMac ferries we rode). There's something cool about putting your entire vehicle onto a boat and just driving it off on the other side. For all the places I've ever been, I'm not sure I've ever driven a car onto a ferry. That sounds crazy but I think it's true. Although, not any more.

About that driving onto the boat, though. You definitely need to pay attention when you are doing it. Most of the ferries we took had a single level of parking for cars; getting on and off those was pretty straightforward. The ferry between Ullapool and Stornoway (on the Isle of Lewis), though, had a second level of parking in its hold on each side of the boat towards the exterior. The second deck was accessed by a ramp on each end that was raised after it was full and then lowered to allow disembarkation. 

We were unlucky enough to park on the upper deck both ways on that trip. I say unlucky here because they let the upper decks off last; it's kind of difficult to lower the ramps to the upper decks when there are cars below. But we were not as unlucky as one person next to us who managed to drive their front wheel off the side of the ramp down from the upper deck. I don't know how long that mess took to get sorted out because we got off as soon as we could. Just watch where you are driving when getting on and off ferries is the message here.

The ferry to Islay opening up their vehicle "door" (top); and driving on at Ullapool (bottom).

One of the great things about boat travel is there is generally enough room to move around some (or a lot) and there's usually some stuff to do. Exploring a boat this size can take some time and we are not talking about open ocean travel here so there's typically something to look at while you are going wherever the boat is taking you. Plus, if you need a meal, there's a full galley. None of this is like a plane or train where you are confined to a relatively small space for the duration of your journey. More room is better.

We did manage to see some pretty amazing things looking overboard, from a very fleeting look at some dolphins (or maybe they were porpoises); to lots of birdlife, like gannets plunging into the water in search of food; to seaside distilleries on Islay; to a few ruins or a lighthouse or two or maybe even a castle. There are some great views of Duart Castle on Mull from the CalMac from Oban to Craignure. Duart is not a medieval castle; it was re-built in the early 20th century. But you still get a great view from the water. People pay for tours to see these sights. You get it all on the ferry for free.

And that food? Pretty good. At least for breakfast. We actually ate breakfast twice on the ferries. I'd highly recommend the bacon and tomato breakfast sandwich. I'll also say that we got the sense that the staff working in the galley really cared. If your order wasn't ready at the counter then someone would find you in the dining room and bring it. I got the sense that the job is not viewed as a stepping stone to something else. We saw when we got back home that the BBC is making a reality series about life working on the CalMac ferries. HAVE to find a way to watch that when it gets released next year.

Oh, there's also a full bar on board in case you need a dram of whisky. Just not at breakfast time. Islay is well represented, appropriately enough.

Waiting for breakfast (top) and I'm counting six types of Islay whisky at the bar (bottom).

As I've already said, we pretty much had to take these ferries to get where we were going but there is actually a benefit to getting to some of the departure points. These places could be seen as a necessity to get where we really wanted to go on the other side of the water, but we used the opportunity to explore a bit and appreciate the drives that it took to get there, wherever there happened to be.

We left for Mull from Oban, which is a bustling ferry hub. There are boats coming in and out of there all day so it would stand to reason that there would be something going on. Our destination here was lunch, which turned out to be a bite to eat at the sketchily named Oban Seafood Hut, a green painted stall right on the water. The shrimp sandwich was great but I'd steer clear of the rubbery whelks. It's the animal, not the place of business. Who likes whelks? I can't imagine.

Our other two points of departure (Kennacraig and Ullapool) took us by some of the best scenery we drove past on this trip. The road to Kennacraig took us past the shoreline of the west coast of Scotland. The road to Ullapool took us through the highlands. Both were amazing drives and the best part was they were just a bonus. We weren't there to drive through spectacular scenery at all; they were just throw ins for free on a drive of necessity. 

Ullapool, where we departed to Lewis from, is a gorgeous little town of rowhouses lined up facing the harbor. I can't imagine what people in Ullapool do for work because it seemed to be utterly remote, but the place is really well put together. I suppose the ferry brings a lot of business to the town. We ate at the local chippy here before we boarded and found a couple of Scottish fish and chip shop delicacies that we had no concept of what they might actually be. We stuck to the fish but looked up the king rib and the red pudding later. Glad we got the fish.

Scenes from the ferries: Port Ellen, the islands on the way to Stornoway, and Duart Castle.

The longest ferry we took on this trip was between Ullapool and Stornoway which was two and half hours (or maybe just a bit longer on the way there) each way. The shortest we took was from Iona to Fionnphort on Mull which was all of 15 minutes long. The ferry from Iona was mercifully short but the ferry to Stornoway was probably the best ride we took, despite the length. The weather was perfectly sunny on that 7 p.m. trip and the islands we motored past were just so picturesque. It was almost worth the price of admission for that view alone.

Speaking of admission and despite the title of this post (I have to search for song titles, right?) we did pay the ferryman here. And before we got to the other side. These things are not cheap, particularly with a vehicle to pay for. We were whale watching (or more accurately staring at the water) in the morning on Lewis talking to a dude from Salisbury, England and complaining about the cost of the ferries. He summed it up well (and I'm paraphrasing here): the cost of taking a car on the ferries is not cheap, but if you want to get to what's on the other side, you just have to pay for it. He was right. The CalMacs got us to some incredible places. I can't imagine doing it any other way.

The menu at Deli-Ca-Sea Fish and Chip Bar, Ullapool. Red pudding anyone?

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How We Did It

The Caledonian MacBrayne ferries run all throughout the islands off Scotland's west coast, from Arran in the south to Lewis in the north. There are about 30 different routes in total and they operate at different times on different days of the week. Their schedules also vary by season. We were in Scotland right near the summer solstice so I assume the ferries were running much more frequently that time of year than during the winter months. Check their website for their most current schedules.

You will likely find that most routes require passenger arrival in advance of departure time, typically 30 to 45 minutes ahead of the actual departure. We were told by the hotel owner in Stornoway that we should not be late on these arrival times or else we'd risk being left behind. We planned on being early anyway (we are always early) but there were signs at some ferry terminals listing what happened to late cars. If I'm remembering right it was that you get put to the back of the line, but I suppose risk of being left behind might be real in some situations.

I like to think that I make travel reservations far in advance but I honestly almost got caught with no ferry reservation to Lewis. I bought ferry tickets on April 4 for that trip on June 25 and two of the three ferries to Stornoway that date and one the next day back to Ullapool were sold out. Fortunately, neither of the ferries we wanted to take were booked solid. Just don't count on last minute availability.

And not kidding about the breakfast. Or the BBC series. The food is good and I can't wait for that series to be released.

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Haggis Etc.

On my last trip to Scotland in 2007, I had my first ever meal of haggis, which is often described as the national dish of Scotland. I waited until the very last meal of the very last day I was in country and had a good amount of beer (or liquid courage, if you prefer) to get myself psyched up for the occasion. It was actually really good. I remember it as meaty and salty and didn't even mind the turnips (or perhaps they were swedes) that came as the traditional accompaniment to the meal.

Why did I need some beer before tucking in to haggis, you might ask? Well, let's consider what haggis actually is. Traditionally, it's sheep offal (perhaps heart, liver and lungs and stuff like that) mixed with oatmeal, salt, spices, suet, maybe some onion and stock and then boiled in a casing until cooked. The casing is traditionally the stomach of the sheep but today, most folks probably use some kind of artificial casing. Sound yummy? THAT's why I needed a couple of beers before my first haggis.

By the way, I'm not sure the haggis I had in whatever bar I found in Glasgow 15 years ago was actually as offal-y as the dish historically is or was. Maybe that's why it tasted so good. 

This year, I was determined to not make the same mistake I made in 2007. I was all in on the haggis and no liquid courage would be required, although beer is an excellent pairing with some offal and oats, if that's what you actually get on your plate when you order it in whatever establishment you happen to be in when you order.

Haggis nuggets and haggis pizza. The Mishnish, Isle of Mull.

I was not just all in on haggis this year, by the way. I was all in on all Scottish food. Fish and chips. Full Scottish breakfasts (with black pudding and tattie scones). Tablet. Fresh seafood like scallops and shrimp and whelks (like eating rubber; never again!). Smoked fish. Afternoon tea. Tunnock's teacakes and caramel logs. Anything I could get my hands on to stuff into my mouth. But none of that (with one notable exception I'll discuss later) really merited writing about. Except haggis. So here you have a post about haggis. Mostly.

We arrived in Scotland on a Saturday afternoon and by the time I laid my head to rest on my pillow for the first night in country that night in Glasgow, I'd had my first haggis. I had my second tasting the very next night also in Glasgow. In addition to two meals of haggis in Glasgow, I ate the stuff in Edinburgh, Inverness and on the Isles of Mull and Islay. I ate it in traditional (meaning likely made from offal) form, in vegetarian form, in a sandwich, in spring rolls, on pizza, in a toastie (OK, so also technically a sandwich) and in nugget form. I covered haggis pretty well on this trip, I'm telling you.

Neeps, tatties, haggis. Ardnamurchan restaurant, Glasgow.

Haggis traditionally comes served with neeps and tatties. For those of you who don't speak Scottish, that means with swede (or turnips, which I guess is shortened to neeps) and mashed potatoes (tatties). Indeed both the full on traditional (above) and the vegetarian version of the same thing (first picture) that we ate came served just that way with a boat or serving of whisky sauce on the side. We found the whisky sauce essential to full enjoyment of these meals of haggis. None of the rest of the forms of haggis we ordered were served with these three sides, although the haggis egg rolls I ate did come with both some kind of chili dipping sauce and chips and gravy.

I am suspecting most of the haggis we were served in our time in Scotland was not offal-based. Most of it had a sort of ground-meat-with-grain texture that belied what it should be and really didn't necessarily improve the flavor, although the mouthfeel of the meat was far more relatable than the really smooth pureed traditional haggis that likely had some animal parts in it that I don't really want to be informed of. I'd put the haggis we had in sandwiches and on the pizza and in nugget form into this meat/grain category, although of all these dishes, I'd put the haggis sandwich I had at the Islay Hotel on the Isle of Islay as head and shoulders above the rest of those other meals. I'd go back for that any day.

Haggis Sandwich. The Islay Hotel, Isle of Islay.

The best plate of haggis we had? Honestly, it was the traditional haggis at the Ardnamurchan restaurant in Glasgow. I'm shocked to be writing this actually because the mouthfeel was cloyingly pasty as if there was some meat I don't usually eat pureed into the mix and the aftertaste was definitely a little metallic. But the overall taste was meaty and satisfying and the mashed potatoes were perfectly fluffy and well-seasoned. When eaten with the neeps and the whisky sauce (which was honestly just fantastic - we could have eaten a lot more of that), the bites of this dish felt homey and very Scottish which was just what we were looking for. I'm not sure I could have eaten an entire portion by myself (it was rich and we split the dish) but I would definitely go back and share this plate again.

The vegetarian haggis we were served the very next day was a reasonable facsimile to the eye, but the taste was nothing similar to the real deal at Ardnamurchan. I'm not sure quite what the point is. It's not good enough to be crave-able. Maybe people eat it to say they have had haggis without eating something legit? 

If there were a close second to Arnamurchan's haggis (and it's really a distant second), it would be the haggis egg rolls I got from The Chippy by Spencer in Edinburgh. They were clearly not as smoothly pureed as the best haggis we had but the texture was different enough from the ground-meat-and-grain texture we had so much that it made this dish seem more legit. At least to my extremely uneducated haggis palate; I mean, after all, I've still only had this stuff eight times. I'd go back to The Chippy for these. They went well with the chili sauce too. 

Considering we spent just 14 nights in Scotland on this trip, I'm pretty satisfied with seven haggis dishes in that time. I definitely got way more into this stuff than I have ever in all my previous at least three trips to Scotland. I could have had more, including haggis for breakfast, but I'm satisfied with my level of exploration here. At least I won't need to get liquored up to try this stuff ever again.

Haggis egg rolls, chips, gravy. The Chippie by Spencer, Edinburgh.

The title of this post is Haggis Etc. And so of course, there's an etcetera to talk about. We really did have a lot of Scottish dishes on our wish list for this trip and really and truly, most of them weren't unique enough to spend any time really writing about. Except for the haggis and one other dish that is probably the most ordinary sounding dish of all, a mix of fruit, oats, honey and whipped cream called cranachan.

Maybe I left one or two details out of my description in the prior paragraph but honestly, there's not much to this cranachan dish. It's kind of like a parfait, with raspberry coulis layered with toasted oats, honey and whisky liqueur whipped cream and then topped with a single raspberry. And maybe it was where we had this dish (Ardnamurchan, again) but this dessert was mind-blowingly good. The sweetness of the coulis with the silky whiskey cream against the texture of the oats was just incredible. We had this dish once in our two weeks in Scotland and it was the best thing we ate. I mean, there is no competition. It's so simple that it seems like it should be easily replicated at home but I'm not convinced it's actually that simple. And we did look for it again. We struggled to find it, although an ability to eat in restaurants in Edinburgh due to contracting COVID certainly affected our options in Edinburgh.

If I ever am in Glasgow again, I'm eating every night at Ardnamurchan and I'm having cranachan for dessert every night. 

That's my Scotland food report. Haggis and cranachan. Great stuff!

Cranachan. Ardnamurchan Restaurant, Glasgow.

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How We Did It

We had a lot of great food and drink in Scotland but haggis-wise (and cranachan-wise), I'd just recommend three places based on what we ate.

The best meal we had in Scotland hands down was at Arndamurchan in Glasgow. We made a reservation for our Saturday night meal and I sort of felt like it was a good thing we did. We only ate three dishes here (we split all three) but the haggis was the best haggis we ate and the cranachan was fantastic (in case that wasn't obvious from the post). Go here. Before we left home it looked like the best restaurant on paper and it certainly delivered.

I'd also recommend The Chippy by Spencer in Edinburgh. They had the second best haggis I ate but they also served up some good looking fish and chips. Unlike some other fish and chip shops we ate from, they seemed to be preparing the food to order, rather than just pulling something from under a heat lamp and handing it to you in a box.

If you are looking for a good haggis sandwich and happen to be on Islay, The Islay Hotel in Port Ellen definitely serves a good one. The bread is super soft and warm and the sandwich comes with melted cheddar and red onion marmalade. It's not just ground meat and some oats on a roll. There aren't that many restaurant choices in Port Ellen. Wandering into the Islay Hotel was a good idea on our part.

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Uisge Beatha

The title of this post is pronounced ish-ka bay-ha. It's Gaelic, which somehow (I don't know how exactly) is pronounced Gallic. Uisge Beatha means "water of life." It also means whisky. That should tell you a lot about how that spirit is regarded in Scotland. No whisky, no life. And yes, the way I have written out the words in this paragraph is my totally unofficial way of writing out pronunciation. It works. For me.

Also no "e" and no Scotch. Not in Scotland. Just whisky. 

Whisky is available all over Scotland. I decided early on in our planning process that we had to make it to at least one or two distilleries and be a bit serious about seeing if this stuff was any good. I actually had never tasted whisky before setting foot in Scotland, something I disclosed to my fellow tour-takers on our first distillery visit. That statement was met with shock. Why would I be taking tours of distilleries without having tasted the product in advance? Why...to find out if I liked it. Why else? That's what I did in Porto last year. Same deal here.

And for the record, I've tasted plenty of whiskey in my life. Just no whisky. Got it? Good.

With our minds made up about spending some time in the Hebrides on this trip, it seemed logical that we would make a stop on the Isle of Islay, a tiny island in the Southern Hebrides with nine (!!!) active distilleries. Right or wrong, that island served as our introduction to and almost our entire education about whisky. While we did visit one additional distillery not on Islay, we didn't visit any on the mainland (the other was on the Isle of Mull). Our sampling was limited, but very useful. This was not, after all, a trip only about whisky.

The first three drams of my whisky experience. Lagavulin. Isle of Islay.

So let's start with a few words about process.

The business of making whisky starts with the malt. In this case, malted barley. Barley is malted by soaking it in water for a couple of days and then spreading it out and aerating it until it starts to germinate, or more simply, grow shoots. When it germinates, the barley starts to convert its natural starches into soluble sugars. Those sugars are important for the creation of alcohol.

Now, too much growing is not good here. We don't want to grow actual barley, after all. So the process of malting is stopped by drying the malt, preserving the all important sugars in the barley. The malt is not just left to dry out on its own. Instead, its actively dried in a kiln. 

After the malt is dry, it is ground into grist, which is added to warm water (historically, a source of good, clean water is really important here) and stirred, which extracts those delicious sugars. The resulting liquid from this mashing process is called wort (pronounced "wert"). The wort is cooled and moved into fermentation tanks and yeast is added, which converts the sugars from the malt into alcohol and carbon dioxide. To this point, this process is pretty much the same as beer production (mmm...beer...). 

But we are not talking about beer, here. Whisky is a distilled spirit. Distillation is the process of boiling the wort in a still to extract the alcohol by raising the temperature of the liquid to 173 or so degrees Fahrenheit, which happens to be the point at which alcohol (but not other liquids, like water) vaporize. As the alcohol vaporizes, it forms a gas which rises in the still. When that vapor contacts the cooler parts of the still like the curved neck above the main chamber, it turns back into a liquid and is captured. Some whiskies are distilled multiple times. The more a whisky is distilled, generally the lighter and more purified it becomes.

Once the distillate is refined to the satisfaction of those making the whisky, it is moved to a cask and aged for a while. That cask is likely a previously used cask, say to make bourbon or sherry or wine or something else or maybe even a combination of different casks. The longer the whisky sits in casks, the more complex it becomes and the more it takes on the flavors or characteristics of those casks. That's probably enough about the process. For now.

The stills at Bowmore (top) and the fermentation tanks at Lagavulin (bottom). Islay.

So, we didn't make it to one or two distilleries on this trip. We actually made it to four. We tried to balance variety with history with learning with tasting with cost in our tasting experience. The logic here was there's no point doing (and paying for) the same thing (i.e. a distillery tour) at every place. We figured they would all be pretty much the same. We made reservations for activities at three distilleries: a straight ahead tour and tasting at Lagavulin on Islay; a warehouse visit and tasting at Bowmore on Islay; and a tasting at Tobermory on Mull. 

We also figured we might be able to squeeze one more experience in on a walk-in basis. Our plan was to visit Ardbeg for some lunch and a whisky taster for dessert but Ardbeg decided to be closed the days we were on Islay. We pivoted and went elsewhere. That turned out to be a smart move.

Because Ardbeg was closed, our whisky journey started at Lagavulin.

Lagavulin is located on the south coast of the Isle of Islay (Islay by the way is pronounced eye-luh) and sits right between Laphroaig to the west and Ardbeg to the east. All three sit right on the coast and have done for a little more than 200 years (Lagavulin was founded in 1816). They are sited that way because way back when they were established, the way supplies got loaded in and whisky got loaded out was by boat. 

This siting also creates one of the most striking images of distilleries in Scotland. The buildings at all three are painted white, and the structure closest to the water displays the name of each distillery in large black letters. Today, that would be called a super graphic. Back in the day it was necessary for ships to find the right distillery, I guess. These gorgeous clean structures with these giant words are like beacons to tourists on ships and boats today skirting the south coast of Islay. We saw them on our way over from the mainland calling to us to come and experience the uisge beatha. The image couldn't be more perfect. 

Ardbeg from the water and Lagavulin from the land. Islay.

There is something incredible about the aroma of visiting a brewery or distillery. It's the smell in the air of malted grain. Some people think it smells like bread. I think it smells more wonderful than that. I will always remember passing through Burton upon Trent as a child and inhaling the gorgeous smells coming from the Bass brewery. Who knew later in life I'd fall in love with the product itself. And setting foot on the property at Lagavulin brought all that back immediately. It is one of the best smells out there.

Our tour and tasting at Lagavulin got us something else: an introduction to peated whisky, something whisky lovers crave as unique and signature to the product. Maybe it's worth spending a few paragraphs on that whole issue.

Remember the drying of the malted barley that whole process description earlier? Well, one of the most common fuels used in the whisky kilns in Scotland is peat, an organic matter composed of partially decayed vegetation that has accumulated over centuries in bogs all over Scotland, and particularly on Islay. In many areas of the country, it is the best fuel available, for drying malted barley or any other use you might have for burning fuel (staying warm comes to mind here).

Now when the peat is burned, it infuses a smoky flavor and smell into the barley, and the grain retains that odor and taste all the way through the distillation process. It makes the whisky taste and smell smoky. Now why you would want your drink to smell and taste of smoke, I can't imagine. I don't get it at all. I mean it really is, to me, not good. I do not want this in my whisky.

Lagavulin apparently produces whiskies on the medium part of the peat spectrum. We were provided with an 8 year whisky; a 16 year Distiller's Edition whisky aged in American oak (presumably bourbon) and sherry casks; and a cask strength which was a mixture (not a blend) of 8, 12 and 16 year whiskies. They all tasted smoky, but the Distiller's Edition was mellowed and complicated by the aging process, perhaps by the sherry casks. It wasn't so bad for a drink that smelled like smoke. At every place we stopped, we were provided with pipettes to add a drop or three of water into our whisky. It helped mellow out the taste of all the Lagavulin whiskies. Water removes smokiness, I guess.

Peat. In the old kiln (no longer in use) at Lagavulin, Islay.

Our visit to Lagavulin gave us a lot to think about as we headed north on Islay to check in to our hotel and find a place for some dinner. Would all whisky taste so smoky? Was our time on Islay, and to a lesser extent on Mull, (not to mention the hard earned money we'd already committed to future distillery visits) a complete waste? Because clearly drinking smoke wasn't for me. All of that was on my mind throughout our dinner at the Lochside Hotel near our hotel in Bowmore when we ran into someone who changed the course of a portion of our trip for the better. We'll call her Nicole, because that was her name. Nicole was tending bar at the Lochside after our meal, where we stopped for a dram or two following our meal.

While perusing the pages long whisky menu at the Lochside, we availed ourselves of some of Nicole's knowledge. She explained the variety of whisky available on Islay (the Lochside has whisky produced on and off Islay but we stuck to Islay that night) including the peated-ness of the product produced by each of the nine distilleries. We tasted her brother's favorite whisky (a Bowmore finished in a bourbon cask which tasted too much of alcohol if I'm remembering right) while also learning that there are some distilleries that don't dry their malt using peat. Come again? Unpeated whisky? Let's try some of that.

Nicole pointed me towards Bruichladdich, a distillery located north of Bowmore which makes an unpeated whisky along with one of the most heavily peated whiskies in Scotland under their Port Charlotte brand. The Bruichladdich section of the Lockside's whisky menu is 29 items long. I picked the first one, the Classic Laddie, because it was unpeated and, well, also because it was cheap at just £5.25. The Lochside can sell you a dram (that's 1-1/2 ounces which is extremely small) for £265 if you really feel like splurging.

The Classic Laddie, by the way, was just what I wanted. A clean, slightly sweet spirit that tasted of barley. This deserved a little more study. Nicole changed the course of my whisky tasting. These chance encounters...I'm telling you. So valuable. Talk to people on vacation, folks!

The bar at the Lochside Hotel, Islay. Plenty of local whiskies to choose from.

There were a couple of questions I had for folks at these distilleries we visited. One was "why does this stuff cost so much?" We'll come back to that one later on in this post. The other was what does this whole "single malt" thing mean (OK and maybe what the heck is blended whisky and why do people get so upset about it?). Wonder no more...

Single malt whisky is made from malted barley and distilled in a single pot. That means single malt is produced from barley only and made by a single producer in a single pot. Not too complicated, right? This is the stuff everyone out there that loves whisky seems to be fixated on. I never knew what a "single malt" was before my trip this year to Scotland. I'm willing to bet most people who insist on having single malt don't know that either. That's cynical of me, maybe. But probably not.

Blended malt whisky is mixture of two or more single malts from different distilleries or different pots. They were very careful at Lagavulin to distance our last whisky from this term, maybe because it was produced in the same pot?

Here's where it gets tricky. Single grain whisky is made from a mixture of grains (so not all barley; I mean why would you do that???) but made in a single pot by a single distiller. Blended grain whisky is a mixture of two or more single grain whiskies. And blended whisky is a mixture of single malt and single grain whiskies, meaning it's a bunch of whiskies (not all of which are made from barley entirely) from different distillers mixed together. Johnnie Walker is perhaps the most famous blended whisky. It's not site specific. 

Everywhere we went on this trip produced single malts. And nobody talked about it that way. I guess it was assumed. I mean, why would you do anything different?

Tobermory Distillery, Isle of Mull.

Our experience at Lagavulin and our conversation with Nicole stuck with us through the trip. We had to find some unpeated whisky. We already had a reservation for a tasting at Tobermory Distillery on the Isle of Mull (Tobermory makes both peated and unpeated whisky) so we knew we'd get a taste of whisky that didn't smell and taste like smoke eventually, but we wanted something immediately.

The answer was right there in the Lochside. Let's go to Bruichladdich. We managed to squeeze a rushed visit in after a morning wildlife boat trip. It was just enough time to find a bottle that I really enjoyed: Bruichladdich's Islay Barley 2013 edition, which like the Classic Laddie I had at the Lochside is an eight year old barley-forward and not smoky liquor but with a little bit of a salty finish. And yes, I did bring a bottle home. One of the things I wanted to come back with on this trip was a bottle of whisky. That's the only souvenir I really wanted from Scotland. Mission accomplished. It really is some delicious stuff. It's clean and uncomplicated tasting; just straight ahead barley. I love it!

To be honest, I would have liked to have spent a little more time at Bruichladdich but they weren't offering anything other than tastings (which were free) when we were there and we were under a time crunch to get back to another pre-booked experience at the Bowmore Distillery and there was absolutely no way we could miss that reservation just to keep finding good whisky at Bruichladdich.

Bruichladdich Distillery, Isle of Islay (top); the only whisky I brought home (bottom).

I have to admit that it's fun to explore whisky tasting, but just going into distillery after distillery and slamming back a few drams is going to get you only so far in the day. You are likely to end up passed out in the middle of the afternoon. So to slow things down and to allow a little more time for us to ask questions and learn about what we were seeking, we booked some longer tours that would require some walking and listening and looking before we started tasting. We did this same sort of thing in the Napa Valley in 2018 with wine.

At Lagavulin, our pace was slowed by a distillery tour. At Bowmore, it was a warehouse visit, which is what we needed to leave Bruichladdich to get to. Many distilleries offer tours with visits to their warehouses with tastings straight from the casks. Bowmore's warehouse visit was a little different. Their No. 1 Vaults is a 240 year old warehouse. It's one of the oldest whisky warehouses in Scotland (our guide, Margaret, actually claimed it was THE oldest in the WORLD). I thought if I was going to do a tour ending up in a warehouse, it should be this one. It would just be a privilege to spend a little time in a place so historic.

It also came with a questionably high £55 price tag. That's about $65 for a couple of tastes of whisky (it actually ended up being four...). It was my splurge on this trip. I thought there was no way it was going to be worth it. I was wrong. Way wrong.

One of the first questions Margaret asked us when we began the tour was "What do you want to see?" My thought here was "what do you mean? aren't we going to the warehouse to taste whisky?" Apparently not. For £55, apparently we can go anywhere we want. Malting floors, fermentation tanks, still room, you name it. Let's do it all.

At this point in our trip, we had already walked through most of the whisky making process at Lagavulin, but we hadn't been to a malting floor, which is literally a floor of a building covered with malted barley about 8" thick. It's an incredible sight. The base of beer and whisky covering an entire floor of an enormous building. Talk about amber waves of grain. It was impressive. It was appetizing. We even got to use the tool that the grain minders use to turn the malt periodically for five to seven days while it's germinating. How awesome was that? No way do I want a full time job turning malting barley but I'm glad I did it once.

I'm not sure, by the way, if walking all over the barley with our shoes on is the healthiest thing to do. I guess it gets ground into grist and boiled and then strained later on in the process. I did pick up a kernel of barley from the sea of grain in the drying room and ate it and I got through that just fine.

One of the malting floors at Bowmore Distillery, Islay. The tool used to turn the malt is in the lower picture.

From the malting floors, we headed through the distillery and then to the No. 1 Vaults, a warehouse that sits below sea level and which maintains a temperature of between 5 and 8 degrees Celcius (that's 41 to 46 or so degrees Fahrenheit for those of us in the United States) with no artificial heating or cooling. In front of us stood two casks and 10 glasses of whisky (5 people on the tour; 2 glasses per person).

In the day or so before we visited Bowmore, we'd sampled 8 to 16 year old whisky. At Tobermory just one day later, we'd have whisky aged between 11 and 18 years. Waiting in the Vault for us were two whiskies that had spent 21 and 23 years in their casks. And counting, since the whisky was still in the casks when it was drawn out for us. One of the casks spent its former life holding wine in Burgundy; the other did time holding sherry in Spain.

I realized before I arrived in Scotland that whisky and other distilled spirits goes into the casks clear in color and without much taste and that the real flavor, smoothness and character of the spirit comes from the time in the barrel as the liquor absorbs the flavor from the wood. But if I were to say before I sipped those two whiskies in Bowmore's warehouse that I really understood the depth and complexity of flavor that time could impart would have been a lie. My time in the No. 1 Vault changed my perspective on whisky.

The only thing I can liken this experience to is going to a gourmet restaurant. You pay a lot of money; you taste something that you likely have never tasted before and might never again; and you walk away with a memory that you treasure and that leaves you longing to go back. That's what this was like. The whisky was peated but absolutely not smoky; the time had dulled all that flavor, although Bowmore admittedly is not a heavily peated whisky. In its place were sweet, complex, caramel-treacle-toffee flavors that were just incredible. Worth standing in a cool bunker for about 45 to 50 minutes to taste and savor. It was absolutely not what I expected. I was shocked it was this good. But I'd do this again in a heartbeat if I were back on Islay ever again.

Part of the tour, by the way, did include filling a 200 ml bottle with whisky from one of the two casks to take away so we will actually one day get to taste the 21 year old aged in the Sherry cask again. It's a cool souvenir from an experience like this.

Taking some of that sweet Bowmore whisky home with me. 

I have no idea how much a bottle of what we tasted in the No. 1 Vault would cost in a store and I didn't ask. But people pay a significant amount of money for whisky produced in Scotland. We saw a bottle in the Lagavulin gift shop with an almost £2,000 price tag. That's about $2,400. My favorite whiskey (note the "e" there) that I enjoy regularly is Powers' Three Swallow Irish Whiskey that I buy for $45 or so a bottle at my local ABC Store. How can a 700 ml bottle of whisky produced in Scotland possible cost more than 20 times that amount? And it's by no means the most expensive whisky out there.

I asked this question of our guides almost everywhere we went. Why on Earth does this stuff cost so much? I even offered an answer with my question (that there are people foolish enough to spend this amount on it). I never got a satisfactory answer. I get there are limited editions that drive prices up. I get that some bottles sell on the secondary market for more than retail that has led some distilleries to up their initial prices. 

But I cannot understand spending over $2,000 or more or way more for a bottle of liquor. If you told me the stuff we had at Bowmore retailed for (and I'm just picking a number with no sense of it being accurate here...) $500 then maybe I'd consider buying a bottle and going through it slowly over a decade or more. MAYBE. And I might have to have had some sort of financial windfall right before that decision. But $2K? There's a liquor store in D.C. that I sometimes go to that has four different whiskies (one is actually a Bruichladdich) that are on sale for more than $2,000, with the top price being $7,000. It's absolutely crazy. I'll stick with my $45 Powers and £60 Bruichladdich Islay Barley.

So that's my 2022 whisky experience. I went to Scotland knowing pretty much nothing about the whole thing and came back with a bottle of something I really love. After we left the Hebrides, I didn't drink a single drop of whisky. That's not surprising since I love beer more than whisky and I picked up COVID somewhere along the way that derailed a lot of things that I love for a few days. But this part of this trip was absolutely eye-opening. Totally glad we went to Islay.

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How We Did It

According to a few sources online, there are more than 130 distilleries in Scotland. No matter where you head in the country, it seems, you should be able to make it close to at least one without any difficulty. Having said that, there are also a lot of people out there looking to visit these things. We made reservations (as we always tend to do for these types of experiences). If we hadn't, we would have been turned away from at least a couple of places. We saw people denied space at both Lagavulin and Tobermory. If you can figure out schedules and stick to them, reservations are sometimes essential.

We tasted whisky in five places in our two weeks in Scotland: four on the Isle of Islay and one on the Isle of Mull. Of the four places on Islay, we made reservations for two and winged the other two. We got to all five places using a rental car or on foot from our hotel which we drove to in our rental car. I can't offer any advice on getting around Islay or Mull without a car, although there are definitely buses on Mull which could take you from the ferry terminal to Tobermory.

We planned our time on Islay around the two tours we definitely wanted to take: a distillery tour and a warehouse visit. There are these types of tours at a number of different distilleries. We chose the distillery tour at Lagavulin because it was on the south coast and it worked with the rest of our schedule. We chose the warehouse visit at Bowmore because it's one of the oldest whisky warehouses (or perhaps the oldest) in the world and I wanted to visit it.

I thought the Lagavulin Classic Tour was a good introduction to the whisky making process and the price was reasonable at £22. We got a sample of three different whiskies at the end of the tour along with some description of what we were about to taste, which I found useful. The Bowmore No. 1 Vaults Warehouse Tasting is pricier at £55 but it is the single experience at a distillery in our time in Scotland that I would repeat in an instant given the opportunity. Lagavulin is about a mile and a half from the Port Ellen Ferry Terminal; according to Google Maps, that's a 6 minute drive. I wouldn't debate that. Bowmore is located in the town of Bowmore, which is about a 15 minute drive north of Port Ellen.

We walked into the Bruichladdich Distillery and had no issues getting a tasting pretty much immediately. I'm not sure if I did it right or not but I tasted three different whiskies at Bruichladdich and paid absolutely nothing. I know I bought a bottle to go but my perception is that this had no bearing on the lack of payment for my samples. Whisky tasting can get expensive. I appreciated the freebies at Bruichladdich, especially since I liked one enough to purchase a bottle. Bruichladdich is about a 15 minute drive from Bowmore.

If you are in Bowmore (the town, not the distillery), it might be worth stopping by the Lochside Hotel for a dram or two at night. The list of whiskies at the bar is impressive. We stopped by the bar two nights in a row, once after dinner at the Lochside and once after dinner elsewhere. If Nicole is at the bar and you need some whisky advice, I'd definitely recommend staying a while and chatting. If you plan to eat at the Lochside, I'd suggest reservations. We didn't have any and we got a table, but we saw reservation-less folks turned away the next night.  Personally, I didn't think the food in the restaurant there was good; I'd eat elsewhere and hit their bar later.

Finally, we also visited the Tobermory Distillery in the town of the same name on Mull. I didn't spend much time blogging about that experience but our guide for our tasting (Alistair, if I'm remembering right) was honestly the most knowledgeable guide we had at any of the distilleries we visited. The information we got at Tobermory was better than any of the other stops. Alistair seemed to know the answer to every question. It's small but definitely worth the visit.

I have not included any opening times or tour times for anything we did. Maybe it's just coming out of the COVID pandemic or something but the tour options and times seemed to keep moving around. Just check the websites of each of the distilleries individually when you understand your schedule is my advice there.

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