Given some recent additional 'exposure' of my blog, I thought I would add a final posting with some general thoughts for a wider audience.
The distillery experience is exactly that - an opportunity to take part in many aspects of the Kilchoman business.
I would say you get out what you put in. The week is relatively unstructured, but I just followed the natural schedule of the team; malting, mashing, distilling and filling, and helping out wherever I could. Of course, I couldn't take on any significant responsibility, but I felt that I at least made a contribution.
I spent most of my time with Tony & Gavin, both of whom were extremely patient, genuinely interested in helping me get the most out of my week, and completely committed to the success of the business, the quality of the products and the continuity of the overall Kilchoman experience.
John also gave his time freely, sharing his knowledge and expertise.
My days were full of humour. We also had wide ranging discussions all manner of topics.
I ended up learning a lot about whisky, Islay, and Kilchoman. I also learned a little about myself, which is a great testament to the wonderful people I met.
Thursday 26 April 2012
Friday 20 April 2012
Time to go home...
I spent the afternoon helping to decant some 4 year old whisky from bourbon casks in to hogsheads (whopping great barrels, 4ft high). John McLelland, the distillery manager kindly gave me a sample to keep (although in a very medicinal looking glass bottle). It tastes wonderful.
I also bought a few bottles, one of which I got Tony, Gavin and John to sign.
Then it was time for some truly awful photos of the three of us, a quick walk around to say goodbye to everyone, and I was on my way.
On the drive back to the hotel I remembered that I wanted to put something on the blog but have kept forgetting. Ever since I arrived on Islay last Sunday I've noticed that people driving in cars wave at me as they pass. At first I wondered if there was something wrong with my car, or that maybe they mistook me for someone else, but I quickly realised that in fact they were simply acknowledging me. It isn't a big wave, and in fact I think some drivers try to be as minimal as possible, barely twitching a single finger from the top of the steering wheel, but it's a wave nonetheless, and a very welcome reminder that this a simple small community of friendly generous people.
Well, folks, that's nearly it for this broadcast. You've been tuned to my Islay Experience, brought to you by the kind generosity of my Lodge guests all the way back in November. I hope you've enjoyed reading my posts, and that you've got a small taste of what it's been like to spend a week here.
It's an understatement to say it has has been a memorable trip, and I think it will take me quite a while to bring all my recollections into some sort of order, with photos and videos galore.
However, I would recommend that next time we meet, if I start saying, "When I was on Islay..." you should stop me and change the subject, otherwise we might be there for some time. Unless, of course, we have some whisky to share...
Hope to see you all soon.
Al
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I also bought a few bottles, one of which I got Tony, Gavin and John to sign.
Then it was time for some truly awful photos of the three of us, a quick walk around to say goodbye to everyone, and I was on my way.
On the drive back to the hotel I remembered that I wanted to put something on the blog but have kept forgetting. Ever since I arrived on Islay last Sunday I've noticed that people driving in cars wave at me as they pass. At first I wondered if there was something wrong with my car, or that maybe they mistook me for someone else, but I quickly realised that in fact they were simply acknowledging me. It isn't a big wave, and in fact I think some drivers try to be as minimal as possible, barely twitching a single finger from the top of the steering wheel, but it's a wave nonetheless, and a very welcome reminder that this a simple small community of friendly generous people.
Well, folks, that's nearly it for this broadcast. You've been tuned to my Islay Experience, brought to you by the kind generosity of my Lodge guests all the way back in November. I hope you've enjoyed reading my posts, and that you've got a small taste of what it's been like to spend a week here.
It's an understatement to say it has has been a memorable trip, and I think it will take me quite a while to bring all my recollections into some sort of order, with photos and videos galore.
However, I would recommend that next time we meet, if I start saying, "When I was on Islay..." you should stop me and change the subject, otherwise we might be there for some time. Unless, of course, we have some whisky to share...
Hope to see you all soon.
Al
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Believe it or not, this morning was the first time I actually tasted some Kilchoman whisky. I've been smelling and sipping the spirit coming off the still all week, but today Tony and I finally did a tasting of four different whiskies from the Kilchoman range. And, yes, it was 10am...
I'm no connoisseur, but I managed to spot some the aspects of the different tastes that Tony was pointing out. It's much easier when you're making direct comparisons, but it's clear I don't have a professional 'nose'. It was no less enjoyable, though, and now I know which bottles I'd like to buy.
So, all that's left is a wander around the shop, maybe some photos with the guys, and then make the last journey back to Bridgend.
I'll get packed up tonight, settle my hotel bill (ouch) and then have everything ready for a reasonably quick departure straight after breakfast. The ferry leaves at 9:30 in the morning, but it's only a 10 minute drive from the hotel to the terminal at Port Askaig, so it won't be too much of a rush.
I hope to post some final comments tonight, then I'll try to load some photos and videos for you to see.
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I'm no connoisseur, but I managed to spot some the aspects of the different tastes that Tony was pointing out. It's much easier when you're making direct comparisons, but it's clear I don't have a professional 'nose'. It was no less enjoyable, though, and now I know which bottles I'd like to buy.
So, all that's left is a wander around the shop, maybe some photos with the guys, and then make the last journey back to Bridgend.
I'll get packed up tonight, settle my hotel bill (ouch) and then have everything ready for a reasonably quick departure straight after breakfast. The ferry leaves at 9:30 in the morning, but it's only a 10 minute drive from the hotel to the terminal at Port Askaig, so it won't be too much of a rush.
I hope to post some final comments tonight, then I'll try to load some photos and videos for you to see.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday 19 April 2012
Beaches, gardens and gossip
Machir Bay is the name of the new release from Kilchoman, named after the amazing beach just down the road from the distillery. I made a quick trip down there this afternoon and it is indeed spectacular. A wide expanse of sandy beach, dunes behind, and then rocky cliffs.
On returning to the distillery (I felt guilty because Gavin was still finishing off the cask filing from this morning), Tony told me about an equally amazing bay just a mile up the coast. This one was called Saligo Bay (Islay Ales has named their summer lager after this place), and I decided to try it after work. The attached photos, taken with my iPad, really don't do it justice, but I'll put some better photos on Dropbox when I get back.
Both these beaches were beautiful, but deserted, which made the feeling of remoteness even more profound.
Back in the hotel I grabbed a beer (Saligo Bay, of course) and sat in the garden.
Even if the rest of the UK is rather damp and cold, I can sit in this peaceful setting, soaking up the evening sunshine, at 7pm, reading my book and listening to the birds.
I chatted to Robert, the barman, and Rasa, the front of house manager (who comes from Lithuania and is the partner of Kevin the chef), and Becky, the waitress, who originally comes from Coventry. I've discovered that Tony is going out with Hazel who is the daughter of Grete, another of the barmaids at the hotel who I spoke to last night. And even more bizarre, that the landlady of the B&B that Alexis and I stayed in last time we were here is actually Tony's Aunt.
You have to be careful what you say around here...
Tomorrow is my last full day on the island. You can probably imagine how I feel about that...
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On returning to the distillery (I felt guilty because Gavin was still finishing off the cask filing from this morning), Tony told me about an equally amazing bay just a mile up the coast. This one was called Saligo Bay (Islay Ales has named their summer lager after this place), and I decided to try it after work. The attached photos, taken with my iPad, really don't do it justice, but I'll put some better photos on Dropbox when I get back.
Both these beaches were beautiful, but deserted, which made the feeling of remoteness even more profound.
Back in the hotel I grabbed a beer (Saligo Bay, of course) and sat in the garden.
Even if the rest of the UK is rather damp and cold, I can sit in this peaceful setting, soaking up the evening sunshine, at 7pm, reading my book and listening to the birds.
I chatted to Robert, the barman, and Rasa, the front of house manager (who comes from Lithuania and is the partner of Kevin the chef), and Becky, the waitress, who originally comes from Coventry. I've discovered that Tony is going out with Hazel who is the daughter of Grete, another of the barmaids at the hotel who I spoke to last night. And even more bizarre, that the landlady of the B&B that Alexis and I stayed in last time we were here is actually Tony's Aunt.
You have to be careful what you say around here...
Tomorrow is my last full day on the island. You can probably imagine how I feel about that...
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A filling day
I had to scrape the frost off the car this morning, but it was a beautifully clear start to the day. I stopped on the way over to take some video of the view across to Jura. It was spectacular, not only for the light but also the peace & quiet. Just the sound of the birds and the sheep.
Its been a very busy morning, moving casks, painting casks, filling casks. I've put 150litres of new spirit at a time (the spirit that we distilled earlier this week) into barrels that previously held sherry and bourbon. It won't see the light of day again for at least 3 years, probably more like 10. It's completely clear when it goes into the cask, all the colour will come from the inside surface of the wood, but it still smells fantastic.
And if anyone wants to buy a single cask of Kilchoman 2012, you should know that I filled casks 195, 196 and 197. You may want to avoid those ones...
That's it for now. I may take a trip down to the beach this lunchtime, or try a small tasting with Tony, or fill some more casks with Gavin, who knows? The world is my langoustine.
Oh, and I'm so glad that my liver is back in touch again. I was beginning to worry that I'd killed it completely after my extensive Islay Ales project last night.
Ttfn
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Its been a very busy morning, moving casks, painting casks, filling casks. I've put 150litres of new spirit at a time (the spirit that we distilled earlier this week) into barrels that previously held sherry and bourbon. It won't see the light of day again for at least 3 years, probably more like 10. It's completely clear when it goes into the cask, all the colour will come from the inside surface of the wood, but it still smells fantastic.
And if anyone wants to buy a single cask of Kilchoman 2012, you should know that I filled casks 195, 196 and 197. You may want to avoid those ones...
That's it for now. I may take a trip down to the beach this lunchtime, or try a small tasting with Tony, or fill some more casks with Gavin, who knows? The world is my langoustine.
Oh, and I'm so glad that my liver is back in touch again. I was beginning to worry that I'd killed it completely after my extensive Islay Ales project last night.
Ttfn
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Wednesday 18 April 2012
Odd people...
This trip is all about 'experiences' and I'm certainly getting my fair share.
This afternoon I went to another distillery, Bruichladdich, to have a look a round. I have liked their whisky since Alexis first bought me a bottle as a wedding present. I've also been collecting some of their rarer bottles, but one particularly valuable one was worrying me because it has no number printed on it. (It should say something like No 1234 of 3000, but my bottle is blank). If it wasn't genuine then it was worth nothing.
I took it with me today and at first the ladies in the visitor centre were reluctant to make any definitive comment about it, though when they compared it to one of their own they were certain it was ok. One of them, Helen, offered to take me to see the guys in the bottling department to see what they thought. As we walked acros the yard we saw two men walking towards us and Helen said, "Oh, maybe Jim can help". I then realised that I was being introduced to the Master Distiller, Jim McEwan, who is quite a name in this industry. He's bluff, straight talking, no nonsense, and didn't fiddle around. He looked over the bottle, said it was fine, then took me inside, and signed the bottle for me.
So, not only do I have a genuine bottle of Port Charlotte PC5, it's now autographed by the guy who made it.
From Bruichladdich my next stop was Islay Ales. The brewery is about the size of my kitchen, and the adjacent shop only slightly larger. I got chatting to brewer, shopkeeper, and delivery man, Steve, who was an interesting guy in himself, having formerly worked at Bruichladdich.
While we were chatting and sampling some of the beers, the lady from the chocolate shop next door came in with a big jar of Rhubarb & Custard sweets. They were very tasty, but a terrible mix with the real ale. She was as mad as anyone I've met on Islay. I didn't learn much from her other than that her favourite word of the moment was 'behemoth'. I offered 'serendipity' as a possible next favourite word, which I think she appreciated. She returned to her shop, I bought a case of Islay Ales, and then left.
Even though Alexis might have liked some local chocolates, I decided not to drop in to the shop, just in case I got into another discussion about interesting words - we could have been there for hours!
I don't know whether it's the weather, the remoteness, or the whisky fumes, but there are some fantastically interesting people around here, if a little crazy. I feel like I could fit right in!
Now I'm off to take some photos. Cheerio!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
This afternoon I went to another distillery, Bruichladdich, to have a look a round. I have liked their whisky since Alexis first bought me a bottle as a wedding present. I've also been collecting some of their rarer bottles, but one particularly valuable one was worrying me because it has no number printed on it. (It should say something like No 1234 of 3000, but my bottle is blank). If it wasn't genuine then it was worth nothing.
I took it with me today and at first the ladies in the visitor centre were reluctant to make any definitive comment about it, though when they compared it to one of their own they were certain it was ok. One of them, Helen, offered to take me to see the guys in the bottling department to see what they thought. As we walked acros the yard we saw two men walking towards us and Helen said, "Oh, maybe Jim can help". I then realised that I was being introduced to the Master Distiller, Jim McEwan, who is quite a name in this industry. He's bluff, straight talking, no nonsense, and didn't fiddle around. He looked over the bottle, said it was fine, then took me inside, and signed the bottle for me.
So, not only do I have a genuine bottle of Port Charlotte PC5, it's now autographed by the guy who made it.
From Bruichladdich my next stop was Islay Ales. The brewery is about the size of my kitchen, and the adjacent shop only slightly larger. I got chatting to brewer, shopkeeper, and delivery man, Steve, who was an interesting guy in himself, having formerly worked at Bruichladdich.
While we were chatting and sampling some of the beers, the lady from the chocolate shop next door came in with a big jar of Rhubarb & Custard sweets. They were very tasty, but a terrible mix with the real ale. She was as mad as anyone I've met on Islay. I didn't learn much from her other than that her favourite word of the moment was 'behemoth'. I offered 'serendipity' as a possible next favourite word, which I think she appreciated. She returned to her shop, I bought a case of Islay Ales, and then left.
Even though Alexis might have liked some local chocolates, I decided not to drop in to the shop, just in case I got into another discussion about interesting words - we could have been there for hours!
I don't know whether it's the weather, the remoteness, or the whisky fumes, but there are some fantastically interesting people around here, if a little crazy. I feel like I could fit right in!
Now I'm off to take some photos. Cheerio!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
The hailstones are hammering into the roof of the visitor centre and I think the weather has discouraged the visitors - I'm here having lunch on my own.
When it was dry earlier this morning I helped Gavin shift some empty casks ready for filling tomorrow. There's no chance I would try to shift the full ones. Gavin's rightly concerned that I would lose several fingers and I'm not sure the borrowed steel- toe-capped boots would offer much help if a 250litre barrel landed on my foot.
The warehouse reminds me of one of those little plastic puzzles where you have to keep moving the pieces around in order to make a picture, but there's only one gap.
The warehouse is completely full, so to access a particular cask requires a whole lot to be taken out, moved around, slotted into little nooks and crannies, extracting the one you want, before stacking it all back again. In the meantime you might need to move a pallet of empty bottles past all the casks you've just shifted and you find there's no space. It's mad, but it's all part of the philosophy (right or wrong) to maintain the authentic process, the complete end-to-end production at 'cottage industry level', rather than go for large scale automated 'manufacture'.
I managed to stay awake longer last night, which gave me the opportunity to have the kind of chat with people that can only happen if you're sitting in a bar on your own. It's a completely different dynamic, and actually rather enjoyable.
Do I really need the return ticket for the ferry on Saturday...?
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When it was dry earlier this morning I helped Gavin shift some empty casks ready for filling tomorrow. There's no chance I would try to shift the full ones. Gavin's rightly concerned that I would lose several fingers and I'm not sure the borrowed steel- toe-capped boots would offer much help if a 250litre barrel landed on my foot.
The warehouse reminds me of one of those little plastic puzzles where you have to keep moving the pieces around in order to make a picture, but there's only one gap.
The warehouse is completely full, so to access a particular cask requires a whole lot to be taken out, moved around, slotted into little nooks and crannies, extracting the one you want, before stacking it all back again. In the meantime you might need to move a pallet of empty bottles past all the casks you've just shifted and you find there's no space. It's mad, but it's all part of the philosophy (right or wrong) to maintain the authentic process, the complete end-to-end production at 'cottage industry level', rather than go for large scale automated 'manufacture'.
I managed to stay awake longer last night, which gave me the opportunity to have the kind of chat with people that can only happen if you're sitting in a bar on your own. It's a completely different dynamic, and actually rather enjoyable.
Do I really need the return ticket for the ferry on Saturday...?
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Tuesday 17 April 2012
Just checking...
I noticed that no-one is commenting on any of my posts.
Several reasons spring to mind: no-one is reading it; people are reading it but can't be bothered to respond because it's too dull; or because you guys out in 'real-world land' are simply too busy and preoccupied with normal life.
If it's the latter then I apologise for the intrusion. If it's any of the former, then I guess I need to spice it up a bit...
I know I sound completely self-absorbed, but you have to know that I am thinking about my Lodge guests on a regular basis, and to be honest I wish you were all here too. (Though that might be the second bottle of Ale talking...)
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Several reasons spring to mind: no-one is reading it; people are reading it but can't be bothered to respond because it's too dull; or because you guys out in 'real-world land' are simply too busy and preoccupied with normal life.
If it's the latter then I apologise for the intrusion. If it's any of the former, then I guess I need to spice it up a bit...
I know I sound completely self-absorbed, but you have to know that I am thinking about my Lodge guests on a regular basis, and to be honest I wish you were all here too. (Though that might be the second bottle of Ale talking...)
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Chill-down time...
I'm back in the hotel bar, with a roaring log fire that makes it look and feel wonderful, but to be honest is not really needed for heating the room. It's sunny and clear outside, with only a slight chill in the air. The forecasts of hideous weather for the whole week have been wide of the mark, though it tipped it down overnight.
I've still got my rucksack and all my stuff with me. I decided that I'd have a beer (number three on the Islay Ales list) and do some emails before going up to my room. The trouble is this is getting a little too comfortable... Maybe I'll just have another...
The hotel manager, Lorna, just walked in to the bar, showing two new guests around. She introduced me as "Alan, who is working at Kilchoman and always has a big grin on his face." I think it was meant as recognition of the fact that I'm just enjoying myself, rather than they think I am the Middlewich village idiot on some kind of respite scheme. ("you know his poor wife had to go to Dublin to get some relief of the stress of looking after him...").
I've read the BBC news but I can't see any stories about four women running riot during the tour of the Guinness brewery in Dublin. Hope it's going well, ladies!
This afternoon was reasonably relaxed, once the forklift ruck had stopped sparking and pouring out smoke, and Gavin had got down off the roof after trying to repair a leak. In between the minor disasters (all blamed on me, as a jinx, by John the distillery manager - jokingly, I should add) we managed to produce a few hundred litres of Kilchoman spirit, between 65 and 75% abv.
I imagine that our favourite Ukrainian vodka fairy would be very interested to try it... (Hi Annie!)
On Thursday, I think we're going to be filling some casks, which I'm really looking forward to. Remember this is the newest distillery on Islay, set up only 7 years ago. I had a wander into the warehouse today and saw Cask No. 1, filled on 14th December 2005. Now if I could only get that into the boot of the Passat by Friday...
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I've still got my rucksack and all my stuff with me. I decided that I'd have a beer (number three on the Islay Ales list) and do some emails before going up to my room. The trouble is this is getting a little too comfortable... Maybe I'll just have another...
The hotel manager, Lorna, just walked in to the bar, showing two new guests around. She introduced me as "Alan, who is working at Kilchoman and always has a big grin on his face." I think it was meant as recognition of the fact that I'm just enjoying myself, rather than they think I am the Middlewich village idiot on some kind of respite scheme. ("you know his poor wife had to go to Dublin to get some relief of the stress of looking after him...").
I've read the BBC news but I can't see any stories about four women running riot during the tour of the Guinness brewery in Dublin. Hope it's going well, ladies!
This afternoon was reasonably relaxed, once the forklift ruck had stopped sparking and pouring out smoke, and Gavin had got down off the roof after trying to repair a leak. In between the minor disasters (all blamed on me, as a jinx, by John the distillery manager - jokingly, I should add) we managed to produce a few hundred litres of Kilchoman spirit, between 65 and 75% abv.
I imagine that our favourite Ukrainian vodka fairy would be very interested to try it... (Hi Annie!)
On Thursday, I think we're going to be filling some casks, which I'm really looking forward to. Remember this is the newest distillery on Islay, set up only 7 years ago. I had a wander into the warehouse today and saw Cask No. 1, filled on 14th December 2005. Now if I could only get that into the boot of the Passat by Friday...
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Location:The bar
I don't know if it's the early morning light, the fresh air, or the enthusiasm for the day ahead, but I'm waking up naturally at 6:30am!
Not that it's a problem. I can have a fine breakfast, then drive the 8 miles round the top of Loch Indaal to the distillery. The last 3 miles are on a single track road with grass and occasional rocks in the centre, and the final 200 yds up the farm track would have killed the Caterham stone dead. It's all part of the atmosphere I suppose.
Once inside the still house it's warm and noisy. Not so loud to be uncomfortable, but the constant drones of pumps, the noise of the liquid boiling in the stills, and the continuous torture of Gavin's hideous puns.
This morning we had two full tours with at least 12 people in each, so I made myself scarce, but as soon as they had gone Tony had me checking the spirit, turning on the steam valves and filling in the data sheets as we charged and discharged the stills. Again I've learned so much in such a short space of time. Then I got a taste for the less intellectual aspects of the job - shovelling 2 tons of malted barley from the malting floor into the hopper to go into the kiln. It was snow shovels and wheelbarrows for an hour. Good exercise, and appetite building.
So, now I'm having lunch in the visitor centre, have received my Kilchoman polo shirt from Laura, and will shortly return to find out what this afternoon has in store for me.
I hope everything is going well for everyone out there in the real world, and you can rest assured that I am very happy in my little Islay bubble...
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Not that it's a problem. I can have a fine breakfast, then drive the 8 miles round the top of Loch Indaal to the distillery. The last 3 miles are on a single track road with grass and occasional rocks in the centre, and the final 200 yds up the farm track would have killed the Caterham stone dead. It's all part of the atmosphere I suppose.
Once inside the still house it's warm and noisy. Not so loud to be uncomfortable, but the constant drones of pumps, the noise of the liquid boiling in the stills, and the continuous torture of Gavin's hideous puns.
This morning we had two full tours with at least 12 people in each, so I made myself scarce, but as soon as they had gone Tony had me checking the spirit, turning on the steam valves and filling in the data sheets as we charged and discharged the stills. Again I've learned so much in such a short space of time. Then I got a taste for the less intellectual aspects of the job - shovelling 2 tons of malted barley from the malting floor into the hopper to go into the kiln. It was snow shovels and wheelbarrows for an hour. Good exercise, and appetite building.
So, now I'm having lunch in the visitor centre, have received my Kilchoman polo shirt from Laura, and will shortly return to find out what this afternoon has in store for me.
I hope everything is going well for everyone out there in the real world, and you can rest assured that I am very happy in my little Islay bubble...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday 16 April 2012
It's not as easy as it seems...
This blog is now starting to get tricky.
There's clearly no point in trying to describe everything I learnt today, but it is probably worth me saying that this whisky lark is a very weird combination of chemistry, biology, art, science, nature and personality.
One the one hand, you're following the same sequence of processes every time, trying your best to ensure a completely consistent output of spirit to put into the casks. There's a huge emphasis on the consistency of the water supply from some spring up in the hills and the purity of the barley from the local farmer. On the face of it there is also a focus on temperatures, volumes, alcohol content and timings for every part of the process.
But the flip side is that in fact there is an awful lot of variation and even randomness in every part of the process. All the timings are in the staff's heads, and sometimes distractions mean that timings go slightly awry and so one batch of spirit is stronger, or weaker, than the next. The barley might start malting earlier or later depending on temperature or humidity.
It's astonishing that what comes out the other end has any consistent strength and flavour at all.
Today the forklift truck broke down so there was scary man-handling of crates of whisky onto a truck (£10,000 of single malt balanced on a pallet on the tailgate...) and the barley needs extra turning because it got a bit carried away in the warm weather over the weekend.
These seem to be typical issues faced every day, but I can't yet fully relate that artisan process and the sophisticated and expensive end product.
Anyway, by 5pm I was worn out, so I came back to the hotel, showered (the combination of alcohol and malt is a very odd smell...) and then had another of the Islay Ales and a very good dinner. Hopefully I will have more energy over the next few evenings and can spend a little more time in the bar rather than crashing on my bed at 8:30.
However, I've committed to an earlier start tomorrow: I said I would help shovel several tons of malted barley into the drying kiln.
Energy? We'll see...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
There's clearly no point in trying to describe everything I learnt today, but it is probably worth me saying that this whisky lark is a very weird combination of chemistry, biology, art, science, nature and personality.
One the one hand, you're following the same sequence of processes every time, trying your best to ensure a completely consistent output of spirit to put into the casks. There's a huge emphasis on the consistency of the water supply from some spring up in the hills and the purity of the barley from the local farmer. On the face of it there is also a focus on temperatures, volumes, alcohol content and timings for every part of the process.
But the flip side is that in fact there is an awful lot of variation and even randomness in every part of the process. All the timings are in the staff's heads, and sometimes distractions mean that timings go slightly awry and so one batch of spirit is stronger, or weaker, than the next. The barley might start malting earlier or later depending on temperature or humidity.
It's astonishing that what comes out the other end has any consistent strength and flavour at all.
Today the forklift truck broke down so there was scary man-handling of crates of whisky onto a truck (£10,000 of single malt balanced on a pallet on the tailgate...) and the barley needs extra turning because it got a bit carried away in the warm weather over the weekend.
These seem to be typical issues faced every day, but I can't yet fully relate that artisan process and the sophisticated and expensive end product.
Anyway, by 5pm I was worn out, so I came back to the hotel, showered (the combination of alcohol and malt is a very odd smell...) and then had another of the Islay Ales and a very good dinner. Hopefully I will have more energy over the next few evenings and can spend a little more time in the bar rather than crashing on my bed at 8:30.
However, I've committed to an earlier start tomorrow: I said I would help shovel several tons of malted barley into the drying kiln.
Energy? We'll see...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Finally, the journey begins...
A quick post during my lunch hour.
I've spent just 2 hours with Gavin and Tony but I already consider myself to be an expert in the art of distilling whisky...
That's rubbish, of course. In fact, I'm still getting my washback mixed up with my mash-tun, and my low wines confused with my feints. It's a weird juggling act of ten or more separate processes all going on the same time. They seem to have an internal clock which guides them from one to the other - an act of liquid and vapour plate-spinning which is a joy to behold.
I'm struggling to describe my first morning - my head is full of facts and folklore, my nostrils full of amazing smells. But it has been everything I had hoped for. Tony & Gavin are patient, understanding, helpful and interested. Most of all, they are relaxed. Could I get any more chilled?
Two things sum up the laid-back approach: the first was when Anthony, the distillery owner, brought in a display banner that needed repairing, before it could be shipped off to an exhibition. Yours truly mucked in with screwdriver and I'm pleased to say did not disgrace my status as a Fellow of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers. The fact that Tony was supposed to be monitoring the spirit coming off the still didn't seem to bother anyone.
Second, Tony offloaded some new barley deliver from the adjacent farm and then took me to see the malting floor. He then shoved a rake in my hands and showed me how to thin out the malt to stop it all getting tangled up.
I think it's going to be like this all week - jobs here, a chat there, a tasting or two.
What could be better?
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I've spent just 2 hours with Gavin and Tony but I already consider myself to be an expert in the art of distilling whisky...
That's rubbish, of course. In fact, I'm still getting my washback mixed up with my mash-tun, and my low wines confused with my feints. It's a weird juggling act of ten or more separate processes all going on the same time. They seem to have an internal clock which guides them from one to the other - an act of liquid and vapour plate-spinning which is a joy to behold.
I'm struggling to describe my first morning - my head is full of facts and folklore, my nostrils full of amazing smells. But it has been everything I had hoped for. Tony & Gavin are patient, understanding, helpful and interested. Most of all, they are relaxed. Could I get any more chilled?
Two things sum up the laid-back approach: the first was when Anthony, the distillery owner, brought in a display banner that needed repairing, before it could be shipped off to an exhibition. Yours truly mucked in with screwdriver and I'm pleased to say did not disgrace my status as a Fellow of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers. The fact that Tony was supposed to be monitoring the spirit coming off the still didn't seem to bother anyone.
Second, Tony offloaded some new barley deliver from the adjacent farm and then took me to see the malting floor. He then shoved a rake in my hands and showed me how to thin out the malt to stop it all getting tangled up.
I think it's going to be like this all week - jobs here, a chat there, a tasting or two.
What could be better?
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Sunday 15 April 2012
Sunday Evening
The walk back from Bowmore last night was actually very pleasant. There was a nice sunset, and an opportunity to enjoy the scenery and the atmosphere. I even did my David Attenborough bit, spotting a deer in the field (I'm pretty certain it wasn't an old dear), and some hen harriers (I think).
Then it was a quick call home to find that Alexis, Pam and Jean all sound exactly the same on the phone. At least they do after they've had some wine and are all a bit giddy with their trip to Dublin today. I was leaning out of my bedroom window to get a mobile signal so found it even more difficult to tell them apart. And I forgot to wish Jean happy birthday, which was the whole point of the Dublin trip... Sorry Jean!
Then to the bar...
Robert, the Bridgend Hotel barman, has lived in London, the USA, and for the last 4 years in Sweden where he managed a whisky bar. He ran whisky tastings but felt that he needed to improve his skills so he has decided to come back to Scotland, the place of his birth, to learn more about the subject. No finer place than Islay for that task... He got the job at Bridgend a month ago. So, I have someone to share my evening debrief after a full day distilling.
Also, he told me about Islay Ales, which has it's brewery just round the corner from the hotel. Robert has 7 or 8 varieties of their real ales behind the bar, so as a side project I'm going to be trying each of them before I leave.
That was last night, now it's time for breakfast and then the short drive over to Kilchoman...
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Then it was a quick call home to find that Alexis, Pam and Jean all sound exactly the same on the phone. At least they do after they've had some wine and are all a bit giddy with their trip to Dublin today. I was leaning out of my bedroom window to get a mobile signal so found it even more difficult to tell them apart. And I forgot to wish Jean happy birthday, which was the whole point of the Dublin trip... Sorry Jean!
Then to the bar...
Robert, the Bridgend Hotel barman, has lived in London, the USA, and for the last 4 years in Sweden where he managed a whisky bar. He ran whisky tastings but felt that he needed to improve his skills so he has decided to come back to Scotland, the place of his birth, to learn more about the subject. No finer place than Islay for that task... He got the job at Bridgend a month ago. So, I have someone to share my evening debrief after a full day distilling.
Also, he told me about Islay Ales, which has it's brewery just round the corner from the hotel. Robert has 7 or 8 varieties of their real ales behind the bar, so as a side project I'm going to be trying each of them before I leave.
That was last night, now it's time for breakfast and then the short drive over to Kilchoman...
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Grub...
The Harbour Inn is not your average pie & pint establishment. If they were to serve a pie, it would almost certainly be accompanied by a velouté, jus and whisky-infused foam. Having said that, I had a very pleasant sea bass with stuff and bits (I'd never be a restaurateur) and a glass of Rioja blanco (that Spanish waitress again). I needed all this food for my walk home, so I figured it was worth the treat, even if I admit I should have checked the prices before I made myself comfortable with the treacle scone and vinegar-infused tea.
My table is in the big bay window with a view over Loch Indaal, where the sea comes into the heart of Islay. I can see the gulls diving for fish and, in the distance, the greeny-grey peaks on the Isle of Jura (I think they're called the Paps of Jura, which seems odd to me since there are three of them.)
Sadly I can also see the tiny white buildings where I need to walk to... Time to pay the bill and gird my parts for the long walk back. There's a bar there waiting for me...
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My table is in the big bay window with a view over Loch Indaal, where the sea comes into the heart of Islay. I can see the gulls diving for fish and, in the distance, the greeny-grey peaks on the Isle of Jura (I think they're called the Paps of Jura, which seems odd to me since there are three of them.)
Sadly I can also see the tiny white buildings where I need to walk to... Time to pay the bill and gird my parts for the long walk back. There's a bar there waiting for me...
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Sunday afternoon
Ferries are normally very exciting for about 10 minutes. Driving the car on board, finding your way around the ship, standing on the rail watching the port slowly disappear, then it starts to dawn on you that you have 2 hours of the slow vibration and gentle rocking...
However, I had a great time today, just watching the world drift by and catching some rays on deck.
It was flat calm, which obviously made a difference, and the car deck was less than half full, so it wasn't busy in the bars and seating areas.
From Port Askaig it was a 10 minute drive to the hotel, quick check-in, unpack, then off on a walk to Bowmore. It was 3 miles but I really wanted to do it; first, because I needed to stretch my legs after a long time in the car and on the ferry, and second because the weather forecast for the next few days is pretty awful. With the sun shining, I wanted to take the chance for a walk while I had it.
Bowmore was quiet, to put it mildly. Not a surprise at 5pm on a Sunday. But I found a nice small hotel & restaurant and went in with the intention of having a refreshing pint. They weren't serving food or beer until 6, so I had a treacle scone and a pot of tea to tide me over. (Sounds more like a 70 years old than a 50 year old, but what's a man to do?)
Anyway, my first pot of tea was taken back before I tried it, because apparently one of the staff had mistakenly put vinegar in the hot water urn. There were strong denials from the Spanish waitress, but it seemed to me that the other staff thought she was definitely the culprit. Something to do with cleaning the cutlery, but it's beyond me how anyone can make that kind of mistake.
Surely it must be time for beer and proper food by now...?
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However, I had a great time today, just watching the world drift by and catching some rays on deck.
It was flat calm, which obviously made a difference, and the car deck was less than half full, so it wasn't busy in the bars and seating areas.
From Port Askaig it was a 10 minute drive to the hotel, quick check-in, unpack, then off on a walk to Bowmore. It was 3 miles but I really wanted to do it; first, because I needed to stretch my legs after a long time in the car and on the ferry, and second because the weather forecast for the next few days is pretty awful. With the sun shining, I wanted to take the chance for a walk while I had it.
Bowmore was quiet, to put it mildly. Not a surprise at 5pm on a Sunday. But I found a nice small hotel & restaurant and went in with the intention of having a refreshing pint. They weren't serving food or beer until 6, so I had a treacle scone and a pot of tea to tide me over. (Sounds more like a 70 years old than a 50 year old, but what's a man to do?)
Anyway, my first pot of tea was taken back before I tried it, because apparently one of the staff had mistakenly put vinegar in the hot water urn. There were strong denials from the Spanish waitress, but it seemed to me that the other staff thought she was definitely the culprit. Something to do with cleaning the cutlery, but it's beyond me how anyone can make that kind of mistake.
Surely it must be time for beer and proper food by now...?
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Location:Islay
Sunday morning
The sun is streaming through the windows, and it's a beautiful clear morning, but I fear it's not going to stay that way. It'll probably be blowing a gale by the time I get on the ferry to Islay.
The B&B was very comfortable, but I couldn't believe the noise the couple were making in the room above me. (Relax, nothing racey). I know the building is a bit old and creaky but it sounded like a heavyweight clog-dancing troupe were practising their finale. I could sense them walking from one side of the room to the other, but it was as if they were jumping each step with enormous feet.
Unfortunately, when the couple came down to breakfast, I saw that the woman did indeed have enormous feet, in 'special' shoes, and enormous legs, too. Not just Manchester-chunky, but medically HUGE.
I'll be carrying the guilt all day. Just so glad I didn't go and knock on their door last night and ask if there was an elephant in the room...
And, so, off to Kennacraig, to catch the ferry to whisky paradise...
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Location:Inverary
Saturday 14 April 2012
First leg completed
Inveraray, almost a one-street town but they've been clever and got Main Street East and Main Street West to make it sound much bigger than it really is.
Until the Erskine bridge the journey from Middlewich was pretty dull, though there are some nice views through the lakes and from some stretches of the M74. But then it gets interesting, along the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond and then across from Tarbet to Inveraray along the shore of the imaginatively named Loch Long. I'm hoping to see Loch Wide and Loch Wet on my travels.
I passed a Caterham on the M6, with the driver all wrapped up, wearing his furry hat with ear-flaps and looking like Deputy Dog. I, meanwhile, was gliding along in comparative comfort, singing along to Candi Statton's "Young Hearts Run Free". This wasn't the trip to be doing in the Caterham, no matter how much I love driving it. I'll need all the Passat's boot space for the whisky I'll be buying...
Candi's disco classic was part of a monster driving playlist that it'd prepared, with all my favourite tunes, especially for the journey. I got through 62 tracks! Doobie Brothers, Elvis Costello, Average White Band, and even some stuff from this millennium...
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Until the Erskine bridge the journey from Middlewich was pretty dull, though there are some nice views through the lakes and from some stretches of the M74. But then it gets interesting, along the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond and then across from Tarbet to Inveraray along the shore of the imaginatively named Loch Long. I'm hoping to see Loch Wide and Loch Wet on my travels.
I passed a Caterham on the M6, with the driver all wrapped up, wearing his furry hat with ear-flaps and looking like Deputy Dog. I, meanwhile, was gliding along in comparative comfort, singing along to Candi Statton's "Young Hearts Run Free". This wasn't the trip to be doing in the Caterham, no matter how much I love driving it. I'll need all the Passat's boot space for the whisky I'll be buying...
Candi's disco classic was part of a monster driving playlist that it'd prepared, with all my favourite tunes, especially for the journey. I got through 62 tracks! Doobie Brothers, Elvis Costello, Average White Band, and even some stuff from this millennium...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Inveraray
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