Islay Part 1

11th Sep

Lighthouse - credit: J

We awoke to a beautiful sunrise, behind the Carraig Fhada lighthouse on Kilnaughton Bay, opposite Port Ellen. It was so nice to see some sun that all but Jeremy went for a walk and photo shoot at 7am. It was also the first time we saw the cottage and its environs in daylight. The cottage was newly built about 3 years ago, but in a traditional Islay style in white render. The huge floor to ceiling picture window in the lounge is a modern twist, giving an amazing view of the light house and Port Ellen. It has all the mod cons - wifi, dishwasher, huge TV,  the all important washing machine and dryer and even more important, incredibly good insulation.

Singing Sands - credit: S

The four of us had a slow start to the day, chatting over a lengthy breakfast. As the sun was still shining, we walked over the hill to the Singing Sands beach, dodging goat droppings from the wild goats, who'd left little hoof marks trails all over the sand - but saw no actual goats. I wondered if they went there to eat the seaweed. The beach has golden sand, contrasted with dark jagged rocks, with green waves coming in off the Irish Sea. On a clear day you can see Ireland. There was also stream stained red-brown by the peat, forming a small pond of black tea. The sand supposedly makes a noise when you walk on it, thus the Singing Sands but we couldn't hear it - or maybe that was just the rising wind and waves!

Peaty pool - credit: J

As Islay is all about the whisky, Laphroaig Distillery was next on the agenda. George is a friend of Laphroaig so has a square for of peat bog to his name, along with a gift of a free dram whenever he visits. We'd hoped to go on the distillery tour, but it was booked out. Turns out this weekend is the Jazz festival and the island is very busy. So instead we stocked up on whisky flavoured cheese, oat cakes and fudge (called tablet in these parts) and booked a tour for tomorrow.

Singing sands - credit: S

We had lunch at a strange little cafe in Port Ellen, part of a volunteer run youth centre. Given the busyness at Laphroaig, it seemed likely that distillery tours would all be full, so decided to head off to the Bruichladdich distillery shop to buy Megan and I a bottle of The Botanist gin, given we both dislike Whisky. The drive took us across the middle of the island, along the undulating main road - it's through peat bogs, so bits of the road eventually sink into the mire. The countryside, given the endless peat, is very barren with no trees in sight, but at least the heather is in flower, so there are patches of purple to break the monotony. In the centre of the island, around Bridgend, there is a little patch of woodland, but the lack of trees certainly explains the discovery of using peat as fuel.

With gin in tummies (free tasting) and carry-out bags, it was back home for cheese and oat cakes, gin and whisky. We stopped at the coop store in Bowmore for ingredients for dinner, so that we didn't have to go out again, as the weather was rapidly deteriorating into a full-on storm. The store-bought apple pie, made with Bramley apples, was a delight!

12th Sep
The storm was still raging this morning: the waves were crashing over the causeway to the lighthouse (and up to the side of the lighthouse) and the ferries have been cancelled. This encouraged us to stay indoors over a leisurely  breakfast and general lazing about. It wasn't until late morning that cabin fever drove us out into the wind and rain - it was either that or Monopoly! We had lunch at the Ardbeg distillery cafe, along with a free wee dram to taste, before heading to Jeremy's favourite, Lagavulin: more tasting and of course, he bought the t-shirt!

Laphroaig stills - credit: S

There are currently 8 distilleries on Islay, with three more apparently planned. Ardbeg, Laguvulin and Laphroaig are all in close proximity, not far from Port Ellen (the locals call it paTellen - one word, with the emphasis on the letter T). We completed the set of three with our tour of Laphroaig. For an hour, we followed the journey that results in the peaty single malt whisky, from the sprouting of the barley (malting), smoking it in the kiln, through to the fermentation of the mash and distilling of the "wash" in huge copper swan-neck stills.

Laphroaig still safe - credit: J

During the distillation, only the middle portion is used - the first 45 minutes worth is too strong (more than 72% alcohol) and the last lot is too weak (less than 60%). The unwanted stuff is called the feints and the sorting occurs in a beautiful shiny brass and glass spirit safe, where levers are turned to ensure the good stuff goes into the gold glass bowl, and the feints into the clear bowl. Another fun factoid: the husks etc left over from soaking the barley is called draff and many a highland cow has grown fat on draff!

After the tour, Jeremy and George attended an hour long tasting session, tasting 4 different styles of Laphroaig. Megan and I watched on, and joined in the friendly chatter with the other tasters: some Americans who wanted to know more about New Zealand and a Kiwi lass from Napier (who we later took to the airport). George decided to visit his square foot of peat, and plant the little NZ flag the distillery provides. They also thoughtfully provide wellies so you can slush through the bog with impunity.

Seaweed eating billy - credit: J

By then it was late afternoon so it was back to the cottage, where the sea had miraculously calmed with the dying of the wind. We were visited by the herd of goats - about 20 of them including two large and very smelly billy goats - and witnessed them eating the seaweed, so my question was answered! We have been keeping an eye out for sea otters, but no luck, although Jeremy did see something in the bay beside Laphroaig which seemed to be too small for a seal. We've also seen herons, hooded crows and little red-breasted robins (plus seagulls, but they don't count!)

Dinner was at the Sea Salt bistro, newly opened in Port Ellen. Great seafood, followed by traditional British puds (sticky toffee and apple crumble).