Isle be back
It's my second day on the island of Islay, off Scotland's windswept west coast, and whoever controls the weather hasn't read the script. Like most visitors to this part of the world from October to March I'm prepared for buffeting winds, torrential rain and near-freezing temperatures. So the clear blue skies and dry, mild conditions have caught me by surprise.
Although the grim weather I was expecting is hardly unheard of at this time of year, the warm waters of the Gulf Stream keep the frost and snow at bay, so spring and autumn can be punctuated by bright, crisp stretches lasting up to a week - although like most of Scotland, Islay can have all four seasons in a day.
I've arrived a few days after a major storm that tore tiles off roofs and severed the island's sea and air links to the mainland, so the forecast is for a settled few days. But since my mission is to visit the island's eight working distilleries, it could be blowing a force-nine gale outside and it wouldn't matter. Yet the surprise conditions have suddenly thrown up a whole host of other activities on Islay I was only vaguely aware of. According to Ian Brown, manager of the Machrie Hotel & Golf Links, there's fishing, shooting, hill walking, beachcombing, bird watching and golf on offer - or just sitting beside a roaring log fire enjoying a wee dram. I'm suddenly left wondering whether three days will be enough time to explore.
For those who know their single malts, Islay's whiskies have a distinctive peaty flavour, thanks to the locally sourced natural fuel used for drying the malted barley. However, because each distillery has its own nuances when it comes to drying, distilling and maturing, even two distilleries next door to each other can produce two completely different-tasting spirits. The only way to appreciate these variations is to visit each distillery and take in one of the free tours that invariably end in the shop.
With the island's rotating police force of five on constant lookout for drunk drivers, it doesn't pay to cram in eight distilleries in one day. The island may be just 25km in length, but the long, narrow, winding road to the Bunnahabhain and Caol Ila distilleries in the picturesque north means you'll probably need all your concentration behind the wheel.
I opt first for the day-trippers' trio of the Ardbeg, Lagavulin and Laphroaig distilleries in the island's southeast, all within an hour's walk of the main ferry terminal at Port Ellen.
In the words of one of my guides, making whisky 'isn't rocket science'. The white spirit that goes on to become whisky is derived from a sweet, yeasty-smelling green beer brewed in huge 'washback' tanks and distilled in distinctive long-necked copper stills. The spirit can only be called whisky after it has been left to mature, typically in bourbon or sherry barrels, for three years. The art is in marrying whiskies from two or more casks to create a single malt's distinctive taste.
Sitting next to an open fire in his office, Graham Logie, distilling manager at Lagavulin, explains that if you want to see your favourite Scotch being made winter is the best time to visit, because whisky making requires a lot of cool water from nearby lochs and streams, which dwindles in the summer.
Traditionally, many distilleries closed for a few weeks in August so staff could cut peat for the fires and long, dry grass to make brooms. They would also be ordered to whitewash the buildings (you don't want rain when whitewashing with lime) and clean out the mash tanks and stills. Today many distilleries still shut down production for a couple of weeks at about this time.
'If you want somewhere warm to go, then go to Barbados - but they couldn't make whisky in Barbados because the evaporation rate is too high,' says Logie, referring to the aptly named 'Angels' Share' that each stored cask loses during the warmer summer months.
Taking a deep breath from the pungent yet disappointingly alcohol-free winter air, I wander up the road to Ardbeg then Laphroaig, the only local distillery with a royal warrant from Prince Charles, who marked his visit in 1994 by crashing his plane at the small airport.
Next it's a visit to the island's oldest distillery, the 229-year-old Bowmore, before driving along the largely deserted main road around Loch Indaal to one of Islay's few independent operations at Bruichladdich.
As well as producing one of the island's peatiest whiskies, Bruichladdich is known for falling foul of the US Defense Threat Reduction Agency's search for weapons of mass destruction. The distillery operates webcams so viewers can follow the whisky-making process. In 2003 a glitch meant the camera was out of action for a short time, which prompted an e-mail from the agency asking what the problem was. When replying, managing director Mark Reynier asked why the agency was so interested. The answer was that the process of brewing and distillation was very similar to that of producing weapons, hence its monitoring of the site.
The company responded by producing a limited batch of Whisky of Mass Distinction, proving that whisky production is indeed rocket science.
My time is running out on Islay, so trying to spot a rare golden eagle, walking along the deserted golden sand fringed Machir Bay and visiting the round church (no corners for the devil to hide in) will have to wait until next time. I have enough time for a flying visit to the Kilchoman farm distillery. The island's newest distillery has yet to release its first single malt (due in June 2009), and because it will produce just 100,000 litres of Scotch each year (Laphroaig produces 90,000 litres a week), it will be sold only to collectors and specialist shops.
And so it's time to leave. Ironically, with the wind starting to pick up, my scheduled sailing from Port Ellen has been moved to the smaller Port Askaig in the northeast of the island. My mission to visit eight distilleries has been a success, but I'm left feeling as if I've only just scraped the surface of the island they call the Queen of the Hebrides.
Getting There
