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A more mountainous and wild-heathland setting than you might have been expecting. No sea spray here.

Rockside Farm, Bruichladdich, Islay, Argyll, PA49 7UT, 01496 850011. Kilchoman Distillery Co. www.kilchomandistillery.com

APPEARANCE AND LOCATION:      ****      They dub themselves “Islay’s Farm Distillery” and they really aren’t exaggerating. One half of the site is a farm with lots of cows and horses, the other is the distillery with its idiosyncratic modern pagoda. It is a very different location to the other Islay distilleries: set high on a hill with farmers fields all around it. You can see from the road the waves and dunes of the north western shores of the island, but Kilchoman is definitely removed from the aggressive maritime battle zones that characterise the other distilleries.

TOURS PROVIDED:

‘Standard Tour’: £3.50. See ‘My Tour’ below.

DISTILLERY-EXCLUSIVE BOTTLINGS:      N/A

My Tour – 15/05/2010

THE RUNNING COMMENTARY:      **

THE PROCESS AND EQUIPMENT:      ***

Notes:      Only Bowmore can match Kilchoman for showing visitors the full spectrum of the whisky-making process. What is abundantly clear throughout the tour, however, is that Kilchoman is using converted spaces and buildings, and is not a purpose-built plant. The malting floor is plagued by birds and takes place in a mdeium-sized barn, the mash house/ still room is very cosy, as is the tun room with its four stainless steel washbacks. The maturation warehouse has the feel of a more industrial garden centre: steel roof and walls, lots of light seeping in from the translucent panels above our heads. Production is a tiny 100,000 litres of spirit a year, and the stills in which those litres are born were designed to make a sweet but full-bodied character in the finished whisky with as much peat retained as possible. I think this is why distilleries such as Kilchoman and Arran are so exciting: they come on the scene in burgeoning industry with a boutique-style and innovative approach, aided by a distilling tradition which has been evolving for 200 years and at the forefront of which, with all of those lessons learned, they now emerge. We have the opportunity to scrutinise the developing character and identity of these malts, and that is very very exciting, I think. In the future, they will bottle not just malt under the ‘Kilchoman’ name, but also under ‘Kilchoman 100% Islay’. The present expressions of Kilchoman use Port Ellen malted barley and 70% of requirements are bought from the commercial maltsters. They needed to assess the initial character of Kilchoman with the consistent malt before they invested to heavily in batches made using their own barley, grown locally and malted on-site. They dry the malt in their kiln for 10 hours using peat, then dry further without. This results in a malt with a peating level of 30-35 ppm; a proper Islay monster, then. The foreshot run from the spirit still is only 5 minutes in length, after which they have their middle cut. They use predominantly Bourbon wood, but 20% is filled in to Sherry. In the warehouse, as well as the #1 cask , there were a handful of Sherry butts on the floor between the racks. These were previously used at Cooley distillery in Ireland and there is an experiment underway to see how these refill casks interact with Kilchoman spirit. Being another independent distillery, there are understandably close ties to Bruichladdich. Some Kilchoman (including those butts) is to be matured there, and Bruichladdich also bottle Kilchoman.

An Australian woman nearly got locked in "accidentally". I think she had quietly snuck to the back.

GENEROSITY:       (1 dram)

VALUE FOR MONEY:      **

SCORE:      7/10 *s

COMMENT:      What a lovely little distillery, and completely at odds with the rest of the Islay whisky scene. As I picked my way between barns and silos, looking for the VC with its superb cafe, I saw horses being tacked up: Rockside do their own pony trekking. Inside the VC, there are more offices and tasting and meetings room under construction. The VC, not being full of whisky of course, contains many other little odds and ends, jewellery and clothing. As I waited for my tour to set off, the previous one arrived for their drams. There were about 20 of them, and it was a bit of a squeeze. Considering that they have 20% of their 2006 stock remaining in bonds, so many thristy tourists wanting a free dram must have a more detrimental effect on their product’s proliferation into whisky shops if it can’t make it off the premises intact. It is perhaps a surprise, then, that we were only charged £3.50. Anthony Wills himself, the founder of Kilchoman, appeared to give a little talk about the complexion of the newest releases. I felt a bit shy about going up and introducing myself, and not just because I was a little peeved that he had simply ignored my email of 18 months ago, when I had made initial enquiries about finding seasonal guide work on Islay for my gap year, when the whisky odyssey premise was looking especially unlikely. I would recommend everyone to go and visit Kilchoman to appreciate the contrasts that are inherent in this industry. Be warned, however. When I next hear anything about Kilchoman I want it to be in relation to the tarmacking of their track from the mainroad to the distillery. As it is, I would describe this track as 100% Islay death for bicycles. The road surface is a mixture of compacted earth and dust below, and egg-sized lumps of loose gravel on top. I walked the bike the 200 metres back to the mainroad. It was much safer.

It sends shivers down my spine (and my wheels' spokes) just looking at it.

This was a giddyingly stunning, breathtaking sight. I had made it to the cult home of Islay single malt.

Port Ellen, Islay, Argyll, PA42 7EA, 01496 302244. Glenmorangie Co. (LVMH). www.ardbeg.com

APPEARANCE AND LOCATION:      *****      Ardbeg’s immediate environs are a little flatter and less knobbly than the other two, but there are even more little islands in the bay. There are cliffs if you walk down between the kilns towards the sea that look out towards Northern Ireland and have all sorts of seaside flora to admire. You can also marvel at the clear, gently lapping sea at the foot of the rocks. I came to this spot twice, once where I joined the German family who took a photo of me before the warehouse that has “ARDBEG” emblazoned on it and whom I had met at Lagavulin, and at the end of my tour when I scoffed some food ahead of my ride back to the holiday cottage. Each time the malt whisky-specific significance and more general beauty of where I was ensnared me. I was at Ardbeg!

TOURS PROVIDED:

‘Standard Tour’: £4.

It is possible to arrange a more in-depth tour if you phone up in advance.

DISTILLERY-EXCLUSIVE BOTTLINGS:      A single cask, 11YO, refill Sherry hogshead bottled at 55.6%abv. There are only 270 bottles and that, together with the fact that it is an Ardbeg, mean it is yours for £180.

My Tour – 14/05/2010

Me at Ardbeg!

THE RUNNING COMMENTARY:      **

THE PROCESS AND EQUIPMENT:      *

Notes:      If you want to see a lot happening at Ardbeg (and by this I mean on the production side, not the hoardes of people side) then don’t come for a tour on Friday afternoon. At lunchtime on a Friday the production staff are either cleaning things or they’ve ran home for the weekend. We saw the stills running, and a half-full wash back (they can only charge the wash still with the contents of half a washback at a time). It felt a bit dead, though: like the prolific tourist attraction it is. There is a long, although very interesting, talk on the distilleries chequered history before the tour. The maltings stopped in the seventies, and whilst everyone salivates at the idea of starting up the process at Ardbeg again, in is nigh on 100% certain it won’t happen. The intermittent production in the later part of the last century has meant that a lot of the older stocks have gone. They have two casks from 1975 left and after that it will be that spirit produced under the Glenmorangie reign which began in 1997. Casks are chiefly ex-Bourbon, although Sherry is used in some expressions and they have been experimenting with French wine casks, of which the Corryvreckan (voted Scotch of the Year in the latest Whisky Magazine) is the primary result.

GENEROSITY:      * (1 dram as part of the tour, although you are given a choice: either Uigeadail, Blasda or Corryvreckan. In the VC, you can also request to try either the 10YO, Uigeadail, Blasda or Rollercoaster (while stocks last).)

VALUE FOR MONEY:      *

SCORE:      5/10 *s

If you go to Islay's distilleries, brace yourself for a wealth of human company.

COMMENT:      Tragically, this was another disappointment. Of course, it was always going to be difficult to live up to my experiences at Lagavulin, and maybe I was beginning to succomb to washback over-exposure. Whatever, I was largely tired and irritable during the tour. It was hot, I was hungry, and there were 20 other people with me. All men, interestingly enough. The place when I go there was heaving. It was like a circus. Staff were red-faced and smiling weakly. The cafe was overflowing and the whisky shop had something of a lotting atmosphere. I had thought that the four different Ardbegs on the table were to be poured by yourself. “No no,” a lady said. “Please ask and we will pour one for you.” It was pandemonium. I asked how busy they got during the festival, was it possible to fit anymore in? The manager gave me a wry smile lacking in humour: they get busier. The cafe is excellent, from the looks of the plates of food and drinks that were being put down in front of hungry tourists and islanders alike. My parents tried to get in for something earlier and were defeated by the busyness. It seems being on a little island in the Atlantic is no barrier for the attentions of global whisky drinkers and they will come in their millions. Some fellow members of my tour had plainly been sampling the Scottish hospitality and their hijinks were a bit of a distraction. I felt I had been robbed of this very important moment with Scotch’s maverick and rockstar. The Islay distilleries, with the exception of Lagavulin and Bunnahabhain, had no time for me personally. This was a shame because the mainland distilleries had all welcomed me and made me feel very much at home. Hitherto I had been lucky enough to receive one-to-one tours at seven distilleries: even Highland Park! Not on Islay, though. Here it is a mass of young men from the continent wishing to grab what they can and thrust whatever amounts of money is required back across the counter in exchange, and the VCs are geared up to maintain this conveyor belt of supply and demand.

The only place where peace was to be found. Such an inspiringly, achingly romantic setting. I could have done with a few more seaweed-flecked waves to satisfy my terroir cravings but beggars can't be choosers.

It is most idyllic at Lagavulin when the weather is kind, and it was very difficult getting myself off the premises.

Port Ellen, Islay, Argyll, PA42 7DZ, 01496 302749. Diageo. http://www.discovering-distilleries.com/lagavulin/

APPEARANCE AND LOCATION:      *****      All of the south shore Islay distilleries shall receive five stars for this category, and for my reasoning see the Laphroaig post. Lagavulin has a slightly broader bay, with Dunyvaig Castle, one of the earliest headquarters for the Lords of the Isles and simultaneously it is hotly contested to be one of the oldest distillation sites on Islay, and even Scotland, at its head. The art of distillation is often attributed to Irish missionaries, and Islay must have been one of the nearest outposts of heathen Scots in the 13th and 14th centuries. They chose well. The architectural layout of the distillery hints at its past lives as several plants, most recently Malt Mill which was set up in an attempt to replicate the character of Laphroaig and ceased production in the 1960s. Lots of buildings and the little avenues between them are visited over the course of the tour.

TOURS PROVIDED:

‘Standard Tour’: £6 (or free if you toured Caol Ila previously). See ‘My Tour’ below.

‘Warehouse Demonstration Tour’: £15. These take place at 10.30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays and it is best to book ahead. The price includes entry on the 9.30AM tour and a free Lagavulin tasting glass. You will then be let loose, figuratively speaking, in Lagavulin’s warehouses. Most is matured elsewhere, it must be said: either at Caol Ila or on the mainland.

NB: Again there is the promise of constructing a tour to suit you to be found on the website. Contact 01496 302749.

DISTILLERY-EXCLUSIVE BOTTLINGS:      Hurry if you want one, a distillery-only bottling was released in tandem with the Feis Ile 2010 edition at the festival this year. ‘Double’ matured in Pedro Ximenez-treated American oak casks, 51.5% abv, £70.

My Tour – 14/05/2010

THE RUNNING COMMENTARY:      ***

THE PROCESS AND EQUIPMENT:      *

Notes:      The tour begins with a very good explanation of the malting and peat-cutting traditions, and expands to include the less glamorous modern method of malting. We get a taste of 35ppm barley malt from Port Ellen. The top layer of peat is generally used in the kilning process because it is very fibrous, not yet having been broken down. This produces lots of smoke for flavour, but not much heat. They use a full lauter tun with a rake that can move up, down, left and right, but must never scrape along the bottom, for the husk in the grist acts like an extra filter for the sugary wort. They have 10 larch washbacks and all are about the same age: 65-years-old! They are coming to the end of their lives, though. Into the still room, and this was where I fell in love. It is so neat and self-contained. Every year, coppersmiths come round and perform an ultrasound on the stills to check the levels of copper thickness throughout the vessel. They have the longest distillation run on the island at 10.5 hours. This long and slow approach ensures that as much of the peat smoke character is retained in the final spirit and smooths out the new make. To the filling store, then, and I learnt that casks can be used at Lagavulin five or even six times. All casks come to the distillery as refills, 85% Bourbon, 15% Sherry. As you can tell, Ruth imparted a lot of Lagavulin wisdom, which I lapped up.

GENEROSITY:       (1 dram) (* if you also shelled out for a tour of Caol Ila.)

VALUE FOR MONEY:      * (** if you take advantage of the two-for-one deal on Diageo Islay distilleries.)

SCORE:      5/10 *s (7/10 *s when toured with Caol Ila.)

COMMENT:      I enjoyed this tour immensely. I almost didn’t catch it, although I sense that Ruth kept the tour party out in the glorious sunshine before heading into the cool of the kiln long enough for me to lock the bike up to the fence and hastily join the group. She was magnificent. We received oodles of local history and the whole affair was relaxed, informative and just lovely. She asked, when we were in the tun room, if anyone would like to draw the wash sample. My hand was the first up so I lifted the two-pint tin of steaming wash out of the most mature washback. A very special moment, for me. Unfortunately, I had first sip, which was mostly head! If you want to tour Lagavulin, phone up to find out when they plan to be taking the middle cut. I just slouched by the spirit safe, watching this clear liquid pass through directly into the receiver vat below. I don’t know whether it was the ambient conditions or not, but the smell is in the top 3 most wondrous aromas I had the good fortune to savour over the course of my travels. Lagavulin new make smells HEAVENLY. I was taking tasting notes of the air: fruity, like toast and jam, but rich and smooth. Some dry earth and sweet, moist wood smoke. UNBELIEVABLE. If they had a bottle of the new make in the shop I would have bought it there and then. Several of them, in fact. I had to nip to the facilities (three sips of wash in the morning is not something I would recommend) and then returned to my tour party who were lounging in the lovely dramming room. The whole VC is very open plan, and this space had the feel of a vintage country hotel. We were given a choice of the 16YO, the Distiller’s Edition and “I’m sure we have an open bottle of the 12YO Special Release.” I and a couple of other gents took her up on her offer and was I glad I did. Leave that new make for 12 years and do next to nothing to it and you have one of the best drams I have tasted; period, let alone on my travels. It is a truly aggressive whisky, butting you in the forehead and then kneeing you in the groin. It was spectacular. A faultless tour (I wasn’t even that sore about this continuing trend of no warehouses) and Lagavulin now has a very special place in my heart, even though it may have been the fall on the pier that knackered the bike… That I will never know.

Unfortunately the strong Westerly winds blew the bike to the pier deck! Not Lagavulin's fault, though.

One last whimsical look back at "the mill in the hollow".

I know, I know; it is quite a cliched view of Laphroaig. But you can see why, can't you? I had to find the vantage point from which those photos were taken.

Port Ellen, Islay, Argyll, PA42 7DU, 01496 302418. Beam Global. www.laphroaig.com

APPEARANCE AND LOCATION:      *****      You would have to construct your case methodically and passionately for another distillery to replace this one as the most gorgeous in Scotland. That said, Lagavulin and Ardbeg do come close. Its siting on a spit of land into the Atlantic (you can see Northern Ireland on a clear day, which Friday 14th of May certainly became) with its little sandy beach in front of its own stridently-painted warehouse front is simply lovely. The south coast of Islay is a deeply dramatic place: sea and rock collide, often with shrapnel sprinkled in the shallows. Behind the distilleries are rising hills of more rock and short grass. The peat fields are further in-land.

TOURS PROVIDED:

‘Standard Tour’: £3. See ‘My Tour’ below.

‘Source, Peat, Malt Tour’: £20. This two hour tour is a must for those who want to see how the “most richly-flavoured” single malt combines land and water to produce the legendary dram. There is a hike to the Kilbride Dam, Laphroaig’s water source, where you are given a dram, I believe of the Quarter Cask. You are then driven to the distillery’s peat bogs near the airport, where you receive the 10YO Cask Strength, and then it is back to the distillery and the floor maltings where you are given a third expression of Laphroaig. Six persons max, for this tour and book in advance. Tuesday and Thursday at 9AM.

‘Tutored Tastings’: (Standard): £10. Four Laphroaigs: 10YO, 10YO Cask Strength, 18YO and the Quarter Cask. (Premium): £25. Three old and rare Laphroaigs in addition to the standard 10YO.

NB: You can become a Friend of Laphroaig, which involves your taking the flag of your nationality onto the field at the back of the distillery and plotting out your own square foot of Islay, which is now yours. Every time you return to the distillery you can “collect your rent” for that piece of land, as well as make use of the Friends of Laphroaig lounge. Special bottlings for the Friends also appear from time to time.

DISTILLERY-EXCLUSIVE BOTTLINGS:      N/A – you just have to be one of the lucky ones there for the festival.

My Tour – 14/05/2010

THE RUNNING COMMENTARY:      **

THE PROCESS AND EQUIPMENT:      **1/2

Notes:      My second day and my second malting floor. The ones at Laphroaig are very light and airy, and we had the opportunity to stand in one of the empty kilns. It is astonishing how soot-blackened all of the beams were, and how fine the metal mesh floor. The smell of cereals was just delicious, too. This was one of the most interactive tours of the whole trip, during which we (and there were many of us) were encouraged to stick our fingers in as many things as possible (in a whisky-making context, you understand). While we were in the maltings we were asked if anyone wanted to take home a bag of Laphroaig malted barley. Some people do. I would have done, but I didn’t want to arrive home with grain throughout my panniers. We enjoyed another taste of the wash: richer, fuller and fruitier than Caol Ila’s; we could dip a finger in to the stream of low wines tumbling through the spirit safe, and stick a digit into the bung hole of a newly-filled cask of Laphroaig spirit. This earns them an extra half a star. This last lucky dip was in the filling store, not the warehouse, sadly. That being said, the smell of fresh Bourbon wood was intoxicating. It was just as well there wasn’t a warehouse visit as part of the tour, because I might have had to miss it so late was I in getting to Lagavulin. Danielle was anxious that I should enjoy my dram of Quarter Cask so phoned them up on my behalf.

GENEROSITY:      * (1 dram)

VALUE FOR MONEY:      **

SCORE:      7.5/10 *s

COMMENT:      Now this is what I call a proper distillery tour, from a proper distillery. The site, as I have mentioned, is beautiful and the smells playing about the buildings are simply magical. The shop (and before too long there will be an exhibition space; building was going on while I was there) is housed in the lower level of the maltings, looking out onto Laphroaig bay. Never have I seen so many photographs taken of a wall: everyone was standing before the sea-facing warehouse, smiling for a camera.

The crucial, famous quarter casks. I can attest that they make quite a difference. The dram I had after the tour was quite astonishing.

The tour is highly involving and I could not fail to pick up on what makes Laphroaig what it is because Danielle could really project her voice. You could be standing by the working mill, deaf in one ear and still hear that they only use 1.5 tonnes of peat a week. It is obviously a finite resource and all distilleries that kiln their own malt do their best to use this natural product sparingly, without compromising on flavour. 99% of the casks used are ex-Maker’s Mark and are only used for one fill of Laphroaig. Outside in the yard we could see the peat shed, as well as used quarter casks. They are very dinky indeed, especially when seen beside the butts and puncheons.

Bunnahabhain from the ferry.

Port Askaig, Islay, Argyll, PA46 7RP, 01496 840646. Burn Stewart Distillers. www.bunnahabhain.com

APPEARANCE AND LOCATION:      *****      Bunnahabhain has a bit more room to spread out than Caol Ila, a mile or so down the rocky, bumpy coast. This is still tucked in to a cleft in the cliffs but is greener and a little tamer than the site for its peatier neighbour. This is another distillery with a treacherous, frankly dangerous track leading to it. From the main road at Keills, it is single-track, twisting, descending and ascending. If you meet a Carntyne articulated lorry, you had better hope their is a sizeable passing place nearby. As my guide said, drivers arrive often very much in need of a restorative dram.

TOURS PROVIDED:

‘Standard Tour’: £4. See ‘My Tour’ below.

‘Manager’s Tour’: £25. Robert didn’t give me a name for it, but if you phone up and book you can have 2 and a half hours of the manager or one of the senior members of staff’s time, a nip into the warehouse and four drams, including the 12, 18 and 25YOs and a Festival bottling.

DISTILLERY-EXCLUSIVE BOTTLINGS:      N/A

My Tour – 13/05/2010

THE RUNNING COMMENTARY:      ***

THE PROCESS AND EQUIPMENT:      *

Notes:      Bunnahabhain is dubbed the “gentle giant” of Islay. Robert, the guide, says that this is due to the size of the distillery’s equipment, and not its employees. The mash tun is huge, the washbacks ginormous. The stills are almost bronze in colour and the biggest onions you will ever see. Yet it all makes one of the lightest, most easy drinking whiskies I’ve come across. Tragically, and in some irony given the news at Caol Ila earlier in the day that they were about to start full 24/7 production, Bunnahabhain has been reduced to only three mashes per week. Burn Stewart is less able to ride out the effects of the recession than Diageo. As such, we didn’t see any production actually taking place. Robert, our guide is also head stillman, and has been working at Bunnahabhain for ever. He doesn’t run his stills based on a given temperature or time, but on flow rate. The middle cut, therefore, runs off the stills at 10 litres per minute. The flow rate for the low wines is twice that at 20 litres per minute, and the low wines strength is incredibly between 28 and 35% abv. I also received my first explanation of how the mash tun/underback pairing actually works. There are two floors in your typical mash tun, held apart by a layer of water. The waters in the mash tun are drained off slowly, so that this layer is maintained and a vacuum isn’t created, which would affect the quality of the wort drawn off and hence the sugars extracted. Four waters are used at Bunnahabhain for the mashing of of the 12 tonnes of grist they can fit into the vessel. Amazing.

GENEROSITY:       (1 dram)

VALUE FOR MONEY:      **

SCORE:      6/10 *s

COMMENT:      If you are off for a tour of Bunnahabhain, pray you get Robert Morton to take you round. Initially it seemed I was the only one on the tour, having phoned up from Caol Ila worried I wouldn’t make it along the four bumpy miles to the distillery for the last tour of the day, the 3.15PM. I did, and I had this big, genial, moustachio’ed and boiler-suited bear of a man waiting for me. I had a cup of tea and we discussed the efforts of another worker to help repair the bike chain of a damsel in distress. 3.15PM arrived, and we left the little reception area with all the Black Bottle merchandise (Bunna is the “heart if Black Bottle”). We encountered a continental couple and then a party of Americans were making their way along from the car park. It was quite a full tour, then, but did Robert care? He was in his element, this despite having said (and I thought it came across as modesty and self-deprecation at the time) that he was a stillman, not a guide. On this basis, every stillman should be obliged, by law, and with considerable pay bonuses, to do tours. He was brilliant. I was cold, wet and tired, and this was my third tour of the day, but I hung on that man’s every word. The anecdote about the Japanese tourist’s expensive camera coming to grief on the steep metal stairs descending from the tun room to the still house caused much hilarity: “he tried to take a picture on the move, lost his balance, the camera fell to the grating at the bottom of the stairs, smashing into a million little pieces and he landed on his backside. Being trained in First Aid, I laughed my head off because it looked so funny.” The moral of the story was, hold on to the bannister, and if you have to take a photo, stand still. Little gems of information tripped off his tongue. As he said, he’s been working here so long he knows his plant. It is this insight, from the people who actually make your dram, that adds real value to visiting precisely where they make it. His company over a dram in the shop at the end was fantastic, too, and his opinions about the industry, how whisky should be drunk and why a lot of people come to single malt a little later in life , usually against their vow that they would never touch whisky again following unfortunate nights of excess in their younger days, were all not in the slightest condemnatory or prescriptive, but had huge doses of humour and common sense. He wished me luck on my travels, and I left profoundly glad I’d fought my way over the lumpy terrain and through the rain.

It might not have been beautiful weather, but this spot on the pier was one of the most peaceful settings I had yet experienced. I didn't want to go!

The best view, perhaps, of Caol Ila is as you slide by on the Colonsay-Port Askaig ferry.

Port Askaig, Islay, Argyll, PA46 7RL, 01496 302760. Diageo. http://www.discovering-distilleries.com/caolila/

APPEARANCE AND LOCATION:      *****      The weather hadn’t improved after my sprint north and eastwards to Port Askaig. The incomparably view out of Caol Ila to the Sound of Islay (what Caol Ila means in English) and Jura is one of the best their is in the industry and sadly thick mist was obscuring it all. The waters in the Sound powered by with a dark oiliness that reminds me of Caol Ila, however. The road down to the distillery is atrociously steep and twisting, with all sorts of trees and plants joslting for space on the cliff walls. Pray you don’t encounter a tanker coming the other way.

TOURS PROVIDED:

‘Standard Tour’: £6. See ‘My Tour’ below, although I sincerely hoped that with the investment in the other tour packages this will have perked up its ideas too, and that my very disappointed comments below are now out of date. As part of the entrance fee you can tour Lagavulin for free. They throw in a branded Glencairn glass, too.

‘Premium Tour and Tasting’: £15. A tour of the distillery followed by a tutored tasting of the Caol Ila range – it’s a good ‘un.

‘Untenanted Cask Experience’: £10. Learn more about the art and mystery of maturation in the Caol Ila cooperage (I’m guessing they are adapting aspects of the Lagavulin Warehouse Demonstrations which I have heard are magnificent). There is a chance to sample the new make, in addition to a 4yo cask sample and a dram of the 12yo.

‘Spirited Verticle Tasting’: £12.50. A chance to savour the Caol Ila range of exemplary Islay whiskies from one of the most extraordinary vantage points in the Scotch whisky world: when they say ‘overlooking the majestic Sound of Islay and the paps’ I’m guessing they are referring to the stillroom.

Tailor-made tours are available upon request. Contact the visitor centre on 01496 302760.

DISTILLERY-EXCLUSIVE BOTTLINGS:     Natural Cask Strength, 58.4%, bottled in 2007 , £50.

My Tour - 13/05/2010 

THE RUNNING COMMENTARY:      *

THE PROCESS AND EQUIPMENT:      *

Notes:      For the first time since Aberlour it was possible to taste the wash. As it happened, I would do the same at two more Islay distilleries. The smell of the mash and tun room (it is all one room. Very industrial is Caol Ila – the biggest producer on the island) was something very special indeed: intensely dry, burning and earthy cereals in a big warm cloud. The wash itself tasted quite sweet in parts, but was dominated by that cutting, dry peaty attack. I loved it! The still room is glorious, and the mist may have lifted a touch to reveal the shapely mass of Jura, but that could have been my imagination. All spirit (very appley and cerealy in aroma) is tankered away to the mainland for filling and maturation. Some Lagavulin is matured in Caol Ila’s warehouses, though: probably because it is a Classic Malt, and Caol Ila is only a lowly Hidden Malt.

GENEROSITY:      * (**) (My Mum and I were both offered extra samples from essentially the entire Caol Ila range. There was the distillery exclusive Natural Cask Strength to try, and we both did; the 12YO, the 10YO Unpeated and the Distiller’s Edition.) (If you bought the two-distilleries-for-the-price-of-one ticket, then this would make three drams for £6, which is very generous indeed.)

VALUE FOR MONEY:       (** This is only value for money if you tour both Caol Ila and Lagavulin, in which case it is very worthwhile indeed. The tour I received at Lagavulin, however, and to complicate my point further, happened to be worth the £6 on its own. If you pay £6 to tour Caol Ila, you better make time for Lagavulin, because this tour sure as hell ain’t worth £6.)

SCORE:      3/10 *s (if you only tour Caol Ila) (6/10 *s if you tour both.)

COMMENT:      A bitter, bitter disappointment. Not only did they have nowhere for a bedraggled cyclist to dry his things so that when he put them back on again at the end of the tour he wouldn’t freeze to death, but the tour was quiet and sedate to the point of apathy. The woman who took us round at no point wanted to raise her voice, an issue when you have a tour group of 15 (they had to turn away two men who arrived just before the 1.45PM cut-off time) and you are wandering around a seriously busy, noisy plant. It was in fact a bit of a race to the spirit safe, none of the explanation of which I caught, then we were left to our own devices to peep at the six stills, and finally taken to be drammed. Again, the free tasting glass at the end wasn’t going to bribe me. So, when taken with Lagavulin, £6 is a ridiculously good price. Taken on its own, it just isn’t worth it. And, in typical Diageo style, no photographs anywhere.

What a joy it was to be here at long last, having devoted many hours of day-dreaming to what it would feel, smell and taste like. This had the overtones of a pilgrimage, getting here, and I had at last arrived.

A view of the distillery from the pier down from the Harbour Inn.

School Street, Bowmore, Islay, Argyll, PA43 7GS, 01496 810441. Morrison Bowmore (Suntory). www.bowmore.com

Easily in the top ten best-smellers list.

APPEARANCE AND LOCATION:      *****      Facing directly onto the fast, low waves of Lochindaal, Bowmore is a gentle giant of a distillery. The obligatory black capitals announce its identity on the sea-facing warehouse wall, staring pointedly across the loch to Bruichladdich distillery. Bowmore blends the old with the new. Their cottages and tasting room are straight out of 5-star hotel luxury and well-appointedness. Bowmore village jostles confidently and familiarly around it, and boasts one of the worst road surfaces I came across on my travels.

TOURS PROVIDED:

‘Standard Tour’: £4. See ‘My Tour’ below.

‘Craftsman’s Tour’: £40. This in-depth viewing of the Bowmore distillery lasts two and a half hours during which you enter the warehouse (you don’t just stand behind glass) and dram samples straight from the cask. Once back in the tasting room, you can taste a selection of Bowmore expressions up to the 25YO.

DISTILLERY-EXCLUSIVE BOTTLINGS:      In a cabinet are some seriously old (see expensive) Bowmores, including the Trilogy of Black (£2350), White (£2600) and Gold (£3130) Bowmores. If these are a little beyond your means, fear not because you can find some equally rare stuff. Admittedly the Feis Ile bottlings don’t come anywhere close to the above trio of 44YOs, but there are less than 100 bottles of each: an 8YO from 2008 for £80 and a 9YO from 2009, 57.1% and £90. It is also possible to purchase the Travel Retail line from the distillery: Surf, 12yo Enigma, 15yo Mariner, 17yo and Cask Strength.

My Tour – 13/05/2010

THE RUNNING COMMENTARY:      **

THE PROCESS AND EQUIPMENT:      ***

Notes:      While I tied the bike up in the increasingly persistent rain (what is it about inclement weather whenever I visit distilleries in the Morrison Bowmore group?) the smell of richly peated malt was being blown about the buildings, damn near hypnotising me. Had Lochindaal been more forthcoming with its own legendary seaweedy aromas, I might just have stood there getting wet. They kiln the barley with peat for 15 hours. It isn’t done on a specific ppm specification, only time. It produces 40% of its requirements on its own malting floors. We were allowed into the warehouse that sits just below sea level. The temperature in there varies only between 2 and 5 degrees Centigrade annually. The Queen visited in the 1980s, and was gifted with her own cask. This she decided to have bottled at around 22 years of age. Some bottles were sold for charity, some went to the Royal Household and one sits in the tasting room for visitors to inspect.

The warehouses: a rare sight on Islay.

The floor maltings: a rare sight on the whisky trail.

GENEROSITY:       (1 dram)

VALUE FOR MONEY:      **

SCORE:      7/10 *s

COMMENT:      As my first Islay tour, it was a superb one. Despte the weather, and the fact that I had to wait for the 11AM tour (the 10AM one being full), I was shown a very good time around one of the most venerable of all malts. The Iain Banks quote from Raw Spirit that if you can’t find a Bowmore to enjoy, then malts probably aren’t for you, is one I wholly endorse, and I loved seeing how it was made. The whole place is kitted out beautifully. The lighting, not something you will hear prasied in many distilleries, picked out all of the wooden vessels and the gleam of the copper wonderfully. Back in the tasting room after a sense of the atmosphere in an islay dunnage warehouse, I elected to go out on to the balcony with my measure of 12YO. I wanted to sip my malt with the air of Lochindaal swaddling me. As I stood and moistened, thinking about returning inside for some water to cut my sample, I realised that the Islay rain was doing that job for me. This was such a pure malt moment, especially after the guide had said that the distillery was struggling with recent shortages of water. The lade that would normally have been gushing was only a trickle. As an aside, I had to buy some of the glasses that they served my dram in. They are beautiful.

Here I got very arty-farty with my Islay malt and Islay rain. It's what it's all about, though.

Oban to Neriby Cottage, Bridgend, Islay; 10 miles

For all the actual travelling today lasted a mere five hours, so significant did it feel to be on a boat to Islay - the semi climax to my tour within which I would find secreted some of the most revered and iconic whiskies in the world, as well as acting as an encapsulation of the positively booming industry at this present time, as well as representing what I had feared in the early days would be a destination to far – it deserves its own especial post on ‘The Odyssey’.

With everything stashed away at the B&B until the afternoon when I would need to retrieve it and make my way to the harbour, I had my best opportunity yet to see Oban. I decided to buy my tickets ahead of time, and after leaving the ferry terminal I browsed a little in the sequence of stores beside the water’s edge. This was selling (rather hard) the brand of Scotland which I have come to know (and not merely suspect) fails to resemble the true character of the country in any regard.

I caught the 10AM tour of the Oban distillery and you can read about my mixed reactions below.

Emerging at 11AM, I knew that The Whisky Shop would have opened. It is far superior in its layout and contents to that of Fort William. I don’t know why I allow myself to be lured in to these places, though. It was the same with the Whisky Castle (although my conversations with Mike and Cathy were singularly brilliant, and I would have hated to have deprived myself of their company) but there really is no need for me to wander in to a whisky retail chain. Sure enough, there are all the whiskies I would love to buy: Glen Garioch 1990, Balblairs galore, a whole wall of Islay independent bottlings from Douglas Laing, little 20cl bottles of single casks from the likes of Ardmore, Caol Ila, Royal Lochnagar and Mortlach by Douglas Laing. The Dalmore Mackenzie… It was just as well I had no space or funds, because this Whisky Shop is one of the very best I have seen so far (and I’ve visited those in Glasgow, Oxford, Fort William and now Oban) and geared so very well to making the increasingly knowledgeable whisky enthusiast yearn to part with money.

After eventually prising myself away and making myself feel even worse by browsing the Travel Writing section in WH Smiths, I needed sustenance. Had I wanted to punish myself some more, there were more malts to be found downstairs in ‘The Kitchen Garden’. I went upstairs and read my paper, catching up on this new political landscape the Conservatives and the Lib Dems had taken almost a week to thrash out. The excellent team of waiting staff brought me some loose mint tea, a haggis and Mull cheddar panini and a slice of caramel apple pie with cream. It was gorgeous.

Waiting to board for the whisky isle.

I returned to Smiths to buy Iain Banks’ whisky travelogue: Raw Spirit. This was a move, at the time, to work out what comparative undertakings had been attempted in Scotch travel but as I shall tell you at the end of my Islay stage, it was just about the best purchase I made throughout the whole tour.

I past the time between lunch and ferry reading Raw Spirit and spent much of the actual crossing reading it, too. It was quite hilarious, and that he began his tour on Islay whetted my appetite wonderfully.

Waving goodbye to Oban.

At the ferry terminal, I had a bit of a wait, although the cars which would be getting off on either Colonsay, Islay or Kennacraig were already queuing. The Berth at which I was to wait was a different one to that which I had loitered around prior to leaving for Mull. In it, also, was a different ferry. That noble-prowed ship would be taking me to the whisky isle.

The crossing was fairly speedy. At least, for a boy helpless with wonder at the assemblages of rock sliding past his window and with the irascible company of Mr Banks it past speedily. On board a ferry in a spring evening was a new joy for me. After having left Colonsay it was a short hop to Port Askaig and I wanted to see Islay approach, to see its brown, curved-backed bulk lurch out of the waves which make a still more legendary location. I left the hoards of other cyclists waiting to explore Islay and went to the front of the ferry. There was already one man there, contemplating this extraordinary landscape approaching out of the sea scape. To feel the air as well as hear and see the water being displaced by the ship’s progress was the first time I had truly experienced the appeal of sailing. Beforehand, I had only appreciated as a rather romantic way of getting to places. Sailing as an end in itself had remained a mystery to me. The call of the ceaseless blue oceans must be powerful indeed for those who cannot resist it.

Caol Ila from the ferry. I confess I was quite excited.

There is no better way of seeing Bunnahabhain or Caol Ila. As I would later find, it is almost impossible to get a good view of them on Islay itself, so securely fitted are they into their little coves beneath the cliffs. From the ferry, and in this weather, it was a photographic bonanzza.

Trying to dock the enormous ferry at the tiny Port Askaig was just about managed and I couldn’t wait to get my feet on rich, peaty Islay soil. So eager was I, in fact, that I changed into my cycling cleats, which I should have realised grip as well on iron flooring as a cow does on an ice rink. I took the ramp gingerly and then I could at last breathe Islay air.

Leaving Port Askaig obliged me to breathe rather a lot of it, because the hill out of the tiny port and village is very steep indeed. The back roads I was required to take in order to find the holiday cottage my parents had booked were similarly vertiginous, although these had the added difficulty of being lightly seasoned with cattle grids and heavily dressed with potholes. This shall be a theme for the Islay posts, the state of their roads. By all means bring your bikes here. The wind is irritating but you get used to it, and its lovely how everyone in a car waves at you (unless they’re tourists. That said, so keen was my Dad to adapt to this island approach that his efforts to wave at every on-coming car, no matter what the road furniture or severity of cornering, made for high-octane car travel) but bring a mountain bike if you know what’s good for you.

It was deeply strange for me to see my parents at this stage. After five weeks of self-sufficiency, would this shocking return to the nest derail me at all for the key challenges I had still to face? I put it to the back of my mind. I had two of my Most Hotly-Awaited distilleries waiting for me the following day. And I was on Islay.

For all it was cold, I had a flawlessly beautiful first evening on Islay cycling along roads I'd thought I wouldn't see on this trip. Magical.

Ard Dorch to Talisker, to Ratagan, 70 miles

If that can't get you up and on the bike, I don't know what can.

Following some very rough calculations with a map and a bit of paper with the scale mile marked on it, I’d deduced that it was about twelve miles further to get to Talisker from my B&B in Ard Dorch than it would have been to get to this iconic distillery from the Glenbrittle hostel. Obviously, the leg taking me from the distillery back to the mainland would be the same as planned. Today would therefore be the longest of the tour to date, and looking at my distances for the remaining weeks, the longest; period. As the above figure shows, it exceeded my projections still further.

If there is a more perfect place or time to cycle than the Isle of Skye at around 9AM in early May, please tell me, but I doubt you can come up with one. The traffic was non-existant and the difference this made to my appreciation of the place swelled exponentially. The island felt new, undiscovered. It did not feel mine. Only after visiting Mull a few days later could I put my finger on what it is that Skye does to you. Falling in love with Skye is like Stockholm Syndrome. Skye is the most “there” place I have ever been to, it is so completely, fiercely its own place and it does not care one jot for your problems or concerns. It is aloof, it is punishing, it is capricious. It is not in any way friendly, but it captures your soul. Indeed, this is the only means by which you can truly experience it: you cannot see it or hear about it alone, and this is why the photos you see cannot hope to convey all of Skye’s personality and sorcery. My mum visited the year before at about the same time, and she said the same, although the pictures she took entirely failed to prepare me for it. With the clear, bright sun newly up, and the shoulders and caps of these great cones of ancient volcanic ire shaking off their clouds, to be cycling along at sea level beneath them was an awesome, humbling experience. I actually experienced fear: raw, thrilling fear. You can’t get to know Skye with the help of the conventional five sense. You are bullied into surrendering yourself to its spell because of how it acts on your very being. It’s the only way I can describe it. I sent a text to mum saying essentially: “I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave here.”

A little later I simply felt joy. The weather was perfect, the views were jaw-dropping. Only the traffic jams and road works spoiled it somewhat. With these cleared, the sign to Talisker appeared all too quickly. I was having a great time: these Skye miles were simply zooming past.

After making the left turn, you pass a hotel nestled in to the junction. You will also have to stop because you will have just spotted the Cuillins. They truly are like something out of a sci-fi comic book. You wonder how they don’t puncture the earth’s atmosphere, so sharp do they appear. After collecting myself following this far-off encounter, I free-wheeled down a very long, gentle hill, sensing the envy of those passing in cars. The approach to Talisker was a hugely significant one for me, and Carbost itself is worth a visit in its own right. All white-wash and cherry trees gleaming in the spring sunshine while I was there.

The tour over I had a super burger in the Old Inn, somewhere I would recommend for sheer informality and local colour. “Very Irish,” said one of the local lasses, “the fire on and the door open.” I had a lovely cheeseburger and then there was nothing for it but to head back to the mainland.

The reverse leg was just as moving, and vanished as quickly. I bought all of the stuff I thought I’d need for Ratagan from the Broadford Co-op, and had to hang around in the car park eating or drinking all the stuff I couldn’t actually fit in my panniers. 46 miles were up, and from the looks of the map I still had a not inconsiderable distance to go.

I felt quite glum as I crossed back on to the mainland. The traffic was giving me hell, though, so I hoped a different route would alleviate those whose journeys were just so vital they had to pass you at 80mph while cars came the other way. I disagree with Iain Banks’ interpretation of the island mentality. I think people get a false sense of liberation, that there actions can’t possibly have any consequences. Well they can for cyclists.

The road to Ratagan was unbearably long. After 50 miles I accepted that 6PM was going to come and go and I’d still be on the road. Apart from the quaint splendour of Eilean Donan Castle, I mostly had to suffer trees, cliff faces and yet more irritable motorists. However, it was sunny and I wasn’t about to knock it. After about 65 miles by lower back felt as if it had lost all structural rigidity. Nevertheless, I had to press on and fuelled by shortbread I eventually came to Loch Duich and what could only be one of the Five Sisters of Kintail. ‘Ratagan’ was written on a road sign, I cried with delight and pulled up at the hostel right on the shore of the loch.

After a mammoth plate of pasta and most of a McVities lemon sponge, I retired to my full 10-bed dorm. I have never felt such pure fatigue. It didn’t matter that the Dutch motorcyclists snored. I’d have slept in a Formula 1 pit lane.

***

Ratagan to Corpach, 61 miles

Isn't that perfect? the bike before Loch Duich and some of the Five Sisters of Kintail.

I has feared this day above all others, prior to having completed the previous day in the style that I did. No distilleries, just a solid 60 miles down the West Coast. If I completed this, I said to myself, the rest of the tour would be a doddle.

The road out of Ratagan towards Invergarry is undoubtedly spectacular. For the first few miles I kept expecting to be seized from above by a golden eagle. After the first few miles, I just felt plain tired. Hitherto, I needed to have covered about 10 miles before I stopped feeling dog tired. It was the break-in period for my legs of a morning. Well these West Coast roads expect you to be on top form from the gun. The road clung to the sides of mountains, then teased the shorelines of lochs. All the while up and down it went, and as the sun attained greater heights, out came the traffic. In the respect of the weather (painfully bright but rather cold), the maddening traffic and the sapping, never-ending road, it was not my happiest morning.

I kept eating and drinking, though, and with a little over 20 miles done I made the turn to Invergarry. It was a joy to actually encounter a junction of some description. I knew that from now on I was unlikely to be unmolested by other, motorised road users. All of the signs had the names of important towns on. The road I had just left had Inverness as its destination, and this one had Fort William at the end of it.

I had lunch half way up a seriously big hill, just in front of the sign welcoming me to Lochaber. Invergarry was still another ten miles away or so.

Another mind-boggling vista, this one near Glen Garry.

Despite several near-death experiences in the space of a few hundred metres: first with motorcyclists overtaking me on a cattle grid which had a whacking great pothole waiting for me at the end of it, and again when a car overtook me, the driver plainly forgetting he had a caravan hitched to the back, I made it to Invergarry. There isn’t a great deal there. Just a few houses and a hotel in which was a very pretty girl who happily served this grotty, smelly yellow creature without revealing in any way how vile it must have been for her.

Things improved slightly after that, and my ride through the Great Glen was quite spectacular. A reasonable tailwind hurled me towards Fort William. I took the minor road turning to the right, which took me over the Caledonian Canal and brought me out again at Banavie. I was staying with family friends in Corpach, and was relieved to see their road, and finally house number, materialise before me. “130 miles in two days,” I reflected over my cup of tea. I couldn’t stop smiling.

Fortunately I wouldn't be heading up these brutes.

***

Corpach to Oban, 52 miles

After a rather vital rest day in Fort William, during which I updated (or to be more correct: sought to alleviate some of the backlog for) this blog like crazy, wandered around Fort William and generally unwound, it was time to be moving on; on towards the isles.

Regrettably, I could not set off as promptly as I wished. Ben Nevis distillery could not accommodate me on one of their morning tours. In fact, they couldn’t squeeze me in until 1PM. This was galling, because 50 miles to Oban is 50 miles, and when I have a distance like that looming I like to at least spread it around lunch. I wasn’t about to miss another distillery, so I booked a spot on the 1PM tour and just accepted that it would be a later night than was ideal.

As you can tell from my review of Ben Nevis, I was glad to have lingered. I bounced and swerved through Fort William onto the south-bound road full of delight at this most immersive and educational of visits, and eager to see whether I would be lucky enough to meet Jim McEwan at Bruichladdich (“If you meet Jim, cancel all plans for the rest of the day,” John warned me), and whether I would encounter Willie at Jura. I was promised that there was nothing this man didn’t know about whisky.

The panorama kept my spirits fairly high, too. Once more I was giddily fortunate with bright sunshine and heat. The views of Loch Linnhe and Argyll slowly coming into shot were magical. The further I went, the more rock could be found protruding from the energetic aquamarine. The islands had technically begun.

Damn, it makes me feel so full of yearning seeing the bike all loaded up like that before those landscapes.

During my time in Fort William spring had definitely been making unsubtle hints as to its entrance. Now, the trees were in fresh-out-of-the-box leaf, and green was assiduously establishing itself. The best place to have appreciated this reawakening of nature may have been the cycle path, which I would spy running in parallel every so often. I only used it over a couple of stretches, however, because every time it looked as if I could join it from the road, it appeared to head of in the opposite direction to that indicated by the nearest road sign. 

Either way, I arrived in Oban shortly after 7PM. I was struck first of all by its location, within the hills and above the sea, secondly by the amount of people around. Fort William had been busy, too, but I had walked amoungst them. Now I was on a bike again and it was all rather overwhelming. I made it to my B&B by 7.30PM, unhappily discovering that it was some way out of town.

Once again, I had made it to a significant check point. I was in Oban now, so I could not fail to catch that once-a-week sailing from Oban to Port Askaig. Again, I could breathe a sigh of something like relief.

***

Oban to Tobermory and back, 45 miles

With no small amount of trepidation, I headed down to the harbour. I had spied out the ferry terminal the night before and let’s just say it was in impressive contrast to John o’Groats. It looked like a mini airport! I wasn’t at all sure of the protocols involved in getting me and my bike on to the ferry and how much it would cost. In a very short time indeed I was waiting at the head of a queue of cars to board, having paid half the John o’Groats to Orkney fare.

Awaiting the ferry in Oban.

In the passenger lounges, there was a large contingent of Americans, Texans to be precise. I wondered if it was a school trip or a holiday. I suppose for the same reason we head over there they come here: a change of scale.

On Mull I allowed all of the ferry traffic to precede me on to the island and this was a very smart move. If I could recommend an island to cycle on, it would be Mull. Between Craignure and Tobermory there is essentially no traffic at all and until you get to the one seriously malignant hill it is relatively flat and well-surfaced. Much like on Skye, miles flashed past without me really registering them. I found the whole place charming: you could see the mainland at all times and this suggested a fraternity existed between it and Mull. Once you are on Skye heading north, the island seems to turn its back on mainland Scotland, shoving lots of other islands in between.

Mull is a friendly place, and even after the rather nasty hills which begin once you are through Salem, the island seems eager to reward you with views which are nothing less than perfect.

A view into the Sound of Mull, from the top of the only hill you really need to worry about (cyclists and motorists alike) between Craignure and Tobermory.

Tobermory is quite divine, too. Again, because it is a “proper” island in a transport sense, demanding a b-o-a-t to get there, you sense that it is more preserved than it might be if there were an easy road link nearby. It had everything I needed: a distillery, a superb cafe selling fabulously rich cakes and a Co-op for my day to day nurtrition. I was sad to leave, and didn’t overstrain myself to get back to Craignure in time for the 5PM sailing back to Oban. I made it back anyway, just as the last cars were shuffling down on to the car deck. 

Looking back to Mull.

I elected to eat the food I had bought in anticipation of having to wait for the 7PM ferry on the rear viewing deck and quite marvellous it was, too. It was hear that I took the picture you can see above. My early return to Oban made dinner arrangements a lot simpler and hassle-free. I ate at a little restaurant called Cuan Mor on the harbour front. So impressed and inspired had I been by the unashamedly, committedly peaty flavours of Ledaig that I asked the waitress for one. They didn’t have it, incredibly, so I had a Caol Ila instead, in anticipation for the following day and its profoundly significant destination.

Oban distillery from the main street.

Stafford Street, Oban, Argyll, PA34 5NH, 01631 572004. Diageo. http://www.discovering-distilleries.com/oban/

APPEARANCE AND LOCATION:      ****      Based on my rating for Tobermory you are quite entitled to ask how this loses a star. Simple: it’s not on an island. The buildings are smarter and the location, tucked right up against the sea cliff above Oban looking out to Mull, is spectacular, but it is very very busy all around.

TOURS PROVIDED:

‘Sensory and Flavour Finding Tour’: £7. A guided tour, a sample of whisky ‘straight from the cask’ (but see ‘My Tour’ below), an opportunity to sample Oban malt whisky with food and a ‘beautiful whisky related gift’ to take away with you.

DISTILLERY-EXCLUSIVE BOTTLINGS:      Single cask Oban, 55% abv. ‘double’ matured in Pedro Montilla Fino sherry casks. £55-70.

My Tour – 12/05/2010      NB: my comment below, as you will find, is less than complimentary. On the Discovering Distilleries website Oban gets one of the most florid write-ups which made me think that they have modified the package which I received. Reflecting on it now, that might not be the case (I stress MIGHT). That ‘straight from the cask’ promise may have been the pathetic dribble of what I had thought of as the Distiller’s Edition. Drawing whisky from a cask is an act with some theatre to it, and should be done in full view. If you are charging £7 (only Aberlour and Balvenie - two of the most thorough tours in Scotland – charge more for a standard tour) then you can give us enough so that we might know we are drinking single cask spirit, otherwise it is – as I state below – a trifle insulting.

THE RUNNING COMMENTARY:      **

THE PROCESS AND EQUIPMENT:      *

Notes:      The whole plant is very user friendly. Everything is neat and clean. In fact, we couldn’t see the tun room because there was some aggressive cleaning of the washbacks taking place. The Diageo Flavour Boards were back, and in the main I agreed with them. The principal characteristics of Oban are said to be ‘Smoky’, ‘Salt’, ‘Orange peel’ and ‘Honey’. The smoke comes from the peating in the malting process, for which there is a video to explain how this is done. To their credit, they also show you how a modern maltings works, and not just the old, nostalgic floor method. Orange peel comes from the long fermentation time and honey comes from maturation. All of these I could agree with and noted in the final dram. But ‘Salt’ coming from the mashing? Come on, do me a favour: unless they are using the sea as the process water this is just a washback load of manure. At the end there is a very good talk through the Classic Malts, the Distillers Editions and the Special Releases, with a rather progressive treatment of the booming area pairing whisky with food. Personally, I haven’t found a combination that has worked yet. I’ve tried Glenfarclas 15YO with dark chocolate; Auchentoshan 3Wood with Christmas cake, and Oban 14YO with salmon and merely ruined three great drams and three tasty plates of food. 100% of Oban’s production goes to single malts, and 60% of that is shipped straight over to the US. First-fill casks only are used.

GENEROSITY:       (Even if you could count the pathetic dribble of the Distiller’s Edition as a dram, using my equation you still end up with more than ’3′.)

VALUE FOR MONEY:

SCORE:      3/10 *s

COMMENT:      I’m sorry, but you can’t fob me off with a free Glencairn glass. Once I’d drunk my Oban 14YO it was empty, so it wasn’t as if there was anything interesting about it. I’m really furious about this, because prior to leaving for my odyssey I had it on good authority that a tour would cost £6, which I thought unusually steep enough. Maybe I had timed it wrong and arrived just at peak silly season when they add an extra quid to the price of admission. No warehouse and one dram, all polished off in 45 minutes. How is that worth £7? I should say that the guide was superb and the tour was very informative, but I had heard it all before, and the good tourists of Oban don’t need to pay £7 to hear it for the first time. Go to Tobermory and pay 50% less. The “second” dram was actually insulting. The guide poured out maybe a 5cl measure into the glass he was carrying and pipette’ed two squirts of it – that’s right, with the plastic pipettes you used in middle school science classes – into the eleven waiting glasses. I was disgusted. Where is my ticket money going, then? Is the Oban distillery doing a secret collection for the ending of world hunger? I don’t think so. This is greed of the highest order: busy location, lots of tourists, let’s milk it for all its worth. The only possible justification it could have is that the surplus cash goes towards maintaining the other quieter visitor’s centres in the group. 34,000 people walked through Oban’s doors last year so that’s a hell of a lot of surplus. But then again, I haven’t been on a single Diageo tour that had less than 5 people on it, besides Cragganmore and Cardhu, but four more people arrived just a little after I set off in the case of the former and a coach-load of Brazilians had preceded me in the case of the latter. One pound more than the peerless Highland Park tour, and only three pounds off the Aberlour fee. And the Speysider allowed you to sit in a warehouse while you drank six malts, for peat’s sake! An above average tour, if it had been priced in line with other Diageo experiences. You have been warned.

The entrance to the visitor's centre. It doesn't cost a penny to stand here.