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f4f3Just back from a week on Islay, with a side-trip to Jura. As someone described it on the Facebook, "Eight Go Mad On An Island".
It was my fourth trip across to Islay, but my first as part of a group. We managed nine distilleries in 7 days (there are 8 opened on Islay, and Jura has another) and I was away on the 7 a.m. ferry back to the mainland.
The weather was most unlike Islay in September - nary a drop of rain, and a few days of fine sun. I may have had the finest dram of my life (a 23 year old Bruichladdich, lifted straight from the barrel) and had plenty more fine ones, with not a single bum note.
I owe NicNac (once of this parish) a vote of thanks for getting the trip up and running, as well as Suzanne and Aled for sharing the driving with her, and Jim and Neil for taking up the burden of dram tasting with me. Sean provided the single entendres (never has Nicky been so thoroughly looked after in the rimming department) and Patrick was the voice of quiet reason (except where the Northern Lights were involved).
There's too much to tell, I'm afraid. Standing outside our rented house in the pitch black, with the Milky Way strung out over our heads and the aurora flickering on the horizon. Taking the tiny ferry to Jura, through the white water Sound, with our little blue van. And the silly company, being silly.
That, my friends, was a week worth doing.
It was my fourth trip across to Islay, but my first as part of a group. We managed nine distilleries in 7 days (there are 8 opened on Islay, and Jura has another) and I was away on the 7 a.m. ferry back to the mainland.
The weather was most unlike Islay in September - nary a drop of rain, and a few days of fine sun. I may have had the finest dram of my life (a 23 year old Bruichladdich, lifted straight from the barrel) and had plenty more fine ones, with not a single bum note.
I owe NicNac (once of this parish) a vote of thanks for getting the trip up and running, as well as Suzanne and Aled for sharing the driving with her, and Jim and Neil for taking up the burden of dram tasting with me. Sean provided the single entendres (never has Nicky been so thoroughly looked after in the rimming department) and Patrick was the voice of quiet reason (except where the Northern Lights were involved).
There's too much to tell, I'm afraid. Standing outside our rented house in the pitch black, with the Milky Way strung out over our heads and the aurora flickering on the horizon. Taking the tiny ferry to Jura, through the white water Sound, with our little blue van. And the silly company, being silly.
That, my friends, was a week worth doing.
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Date: 2015-09-15 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-09-19 09:55 pm (UTC)