Whisky Galore

June 2019

It was to be the trip of dreams (and drams) and, if we ignore the journey home, it was pretty wonderful.

A couple of years ago four friends went to Champagne (by car, so no report here) for a tasting and gastronomic journey into the world of bubbles. It was brilliant. We had a great guide for our tour and a happy day of chance discoveries when left to our own devices. The resolve to do it all again was strong from the start and after wondering whether to return to France and perhaps Bordeaux or Burgundy, we decided to indulge on of our other shared passions; Scotch Whisky.

I was left to research options, come up with an itinerary and then make the necessary arrangements. The advantage Champagne has over Scotland, on this instance at least, is that it is much more compact - we could not, in any reasonable amount of time, be expected to cover the whole gamut of whisky production in the same way as we could méthode champenoise in France so we would have to be much more selective. The other problem would be getting about; three of us could drive but none of us wanted to. The answer was to avail ourselves of a driver/guide for a couple of days to drive us around adding 'local colour' where appropriate. After many hours pouring over maps of Scotland, maps of distilleries and researching those whiskies we might prefer to visit, we settled on establishing a base in Fort William because it was convenient both for several Highland Distilleries and Speyside, and because it would enable us to take advantage of the opportunity to enjoy two of the world's "must do" rail journeys - the Caledonian Sleeper and the Jacobite Express.

And so it is, in late June, the four of us board a noon train at Fratton (of course).

Day One 

We cross town from Waterloo to Euston, leave our luggage at, appropriately, Left Luggage and tube it down to Soho because when one embarks on such a trip, it's best to start as you mean to go on. In that spirit I thought the best thing to do to really get us 'in the mood' was a private tasting at Milroy's whisky bar in Greek Street, and what an inspired idea that turned out to be. We booked a 3pm tasting of premium examples from each of Scotland's five whisky regions. We got a thorough outline of the basics of whisky production from our very knowledgeable host and a dram of some very fine malts, finishing with an astonishing Octomore, just the thing to set us up nicely for our journey.

With further astonishing foresight I had booked a table for dinner a few doors down at 10 Greek Street but after the tasting we had a little time to kill so a restorative coffee at Tintico across the street was very welcome. Only I noticed Burn Gorman at the next table reading a script and because I'm not one to disturb people just because they're a bit famous, it was quite funny to point out his presence to the others once he'd left. After coffee we had just enough time to buy a ridiculous/beautiful shirt at Zegerman's before our dinner at a very hipster but equally high quality restaurant at Number 10. That left plenty of time after dinner to take the Underground back to Euston, retrieve our luggage and wait in the crowded hall for the board to confirm the platform for the sleeper north.

When we booked, the website was all about the new rolling stock and how wonderful it would be compared with the tired old stock. As we approached the barrier it was clear that the new stock was not yet in operation on the Fort William route at least. A woman with a clipboard stood in place of the not-yet-operational electronic ticket barrier, who was keen to underline the fact that they were 'very short staffed' on the train tonight and could we get our breakfast orders done within 30 minutes of departure. Hmm. Anyway, we found our cabins and even though they seemed a little more cramped than those on European night trains we had used before, we settled in. The lounge was full, and restricted to first class passengers, while the kiosk/bar was very late opening due to the aforementioned staff shortages. By this time we had tired of the idea of a night cap and settled on sleep.

Any grumbles about the train the previous night disappeared upon waking. We spent the next three hours trundling through the most wonderful scenery, stopping at romantic sounding highland stations before this wonderful journey ended somewhat prosaically alongside Morrison's in Fort William.

Day Two

I would stake ready money on the fact that a significant proportion of visitors to Fort William arrive by sleeper train. This makes it all the more bizarre that our hotel was so intransigent when it came to checking in. This was not possible they assured us, under any circumstances before 3pm. Any circumstances. The train had berthed at 10am so there we were, less than twenty minutes later in the lobby of the Clan MacDuff Hotel failing to check in. They could look after our cases but that was it. Even in normal circumstances having over four hours to kill would be annoying, but because the hotel was a mile or so out of town it was necessary to take a taxi there and back it felt like a wasted journey. This is even before you factor in the rest of our day's itinerary.

We're booked on the Jacobite "Hogwarts" Express, which leaves Fort William for Mallaig at 2pm. We can't check in until 3pm. Okay we say, we'll check in when we get back from dinner. That's fine, they say, as long as that's before 10pm. However, the Jacobite doesn't get back to Fort William until after 8pm so we end up making a special trip back to the hotel just to check in before going out again to eat. We did, briefly, consider the option of eating at the hotel, but the restaurant only opens between six and eight. Really.

After a moment's staring at the loch across the road we resolve to spend the intervening hours in town and reception calls us a taxi. Just as we're beginning to wonder about Scottish hospitality, a Very Helpful taxi driver takes us to the heart of Fort William's main drag and points out several options for lunch and after a bit of a wander round, we end up at the Ben Nevis bar for perfectly tasty meal and some pretty good beer too.
The weather, I should say at this point is Hot, heatwave hot.

The Jacobite express to Mallaig is on many a "top ten" rail journeys list, and rightly so. The landscape of the "Road to the Isles" is beyond spectacular and travelling through it on a steam train is just perfect. Crossing the Glenfinnan Viaduct we can see crowds of people on the opposite hill aiming, it transpires, for the perfect shot of said Hogwarts Express as it passes by, ignoring in large part the monument to the Jacobite rebellion in the valley below. There's a few minutes to take a breather at Glenfinnan station and a quick look around the small museum before we head off again for Mallaig.

This west coast port turns out to be somewhere you go to get somewhere else - there's not much to do on such a visit as ours, although we later see an advert for a short sea safari that guaranteed to be back in time for the return train. Our wait is eased by some fat crab sandwiches and a cream tea of epic proportions. It is spoilt by an awful busker operating from the boot of his car opposite the café.
The return journey is naturally just as beautiful but the heat is now exacerbated by regular hot smuts from the engine being blown in through the necessarily open windows. We're starting to flag a bit now and we have yet to make the trip back to check in. We take the chance to change and freshen up before another taxi to the curry house we had booked earlier. I had a very decent chicken dansak but my companions were left raving about the quality of their various lamb dishes. One of the best curries we've had was supremely enhanced by the view over the loch. By the time we had finished eating it was approaching 11pm and it was still not dark. Just time for a nightcap before turning in. Thankfully we'd had the foresight to buy a bottle of Bunnahabhain from Morrisons for the purpose. It was still light when we turned in.

Day Three

Day three is Distillery Day One. The driver I had booked for the two days arrived as promised at 8.30am and we set off for the furthest distillery of the day, aiming to work our way back via Blair Athol and Dalwhinnie. After a pleasant drive through the stunningly beautiful landscape skirting the Cairngorms, we arrive at Edradour near Pitlochry.
Edradour is charming. Set in the small valley of the burn that feeds it, it looks like the sort of thing Disney would build if asked for a typical, Scottish, Olde Worlde distillery, all white walls and red paintwork, everyone in kilts and some of the finest whisky around. By now we were becoming very clear on the "how" of whisky production so when it came to our second stop of the day we headed straight to the bar. The Blair Athol distillery bar is a fine thing. Made from an old copper still and staffed by a very knowledgeable young woman who guided us expertly through a six dram tasting. (By the by, the Blair Athol distillery is in Pitlochry, not Blair Atholl a few miles away).

We had had a mild panic as a booking misunderstanding had become apparent - I had assumed that Stephen, our driver, was going to make any necessary arrangements but he had believed I was making them. A quick bout of googling reassures all that appointments were not always necessary and there are plenty of places to visit anyway. We lunch in Pitlochry. When we return to the car Stephen is redeemed as he has made arrangements for us to join the last tour of the day at the otherwise booked up Dalwhinnie distillery, the highest in Scotland. A fairly uneventful tour was enlivened by a tour leader approaching the nether end of her tether and an assistant of the less than helpful variety. It had clearly been a long day. Interestingly, Dalwhinnie had chosen to match their various expressions with handmade chocolates and not entirely unsuccessfully either.

That night we dressed up for dinner at the Lime Tree restaurant and art gallery and very good it was too.

Day Four

Today is to be spent on Speyside. After the previous day's non-booking misunderstanding, I had spent some of the evening checking and revising our proposed itinerary. It meant two things - one, we would not be able to visit the Speyside Cooperage, principally because it was shut, and that a visit to Aberlour was unlikely to be possible as tours were restricted owing to some remodelling work. A quick conversation with Katie, a friend and part time distillery guide, confirmed this. Despite this last minute chopping and changing, a suitable programme was worked out and a great day was had.

First stop is still Cragganmore, a bit more than a mile from the main road despite what the sign says. Again we opt not to take a tour, even though we had thought about their interesting food matching tour, it was still early and none of us were hungry enough. We settled on a full tasting in the shop and are suitably impressed. Impressed enough to spend a substantial amount on one bottle and a staggering amount on another. Our enthusiasm gets us a view of their stills anyway as they have very unusual flat tops and we ought to see them.

The next destination is Dufftown, putative capital of Speyside with a specialist shop, seven distilleries and a museum. On the way we pass the cooperage and stop for pictures anyway before rolling up Dufftown's main street to our first stop, the museum. Quaint doesn't even begin to describe it. Occupying a single shop front, it barely qualifies as a museum but does have a good number of antique whisky-making accoutrements and ephemera all presented by a delightfully enthusiastic and friendly woman who also points us to the local Costcutter as the best place to buy our whisky. She is right, it has almost as many whiskies on sale as the specialist shop and many at lower prices.

We decide to take lunch just outside Dufftown at Glenfiddich which is all super corporate polish but has a very decent café with whisky pairings for their menu. We all order the burger with its suggested dram of Glenfiddich IPA (for a separate, brief review see Will it Mac?). We're not too bothered about the rest of their products but look round the shop anyway before heading off again.
Final stop of the day is The Glenlivet, deep in the countryside, where after a wander around their very smart museum cum display and a quick tasting we are officially "Whiskied out". At least for now. We are all a bit jaded as we are driven back to the hotel where we wave a cheery farewell to Stephen and get ready for dinner at "The Geographer's".

Day Five

We awake to a change in the weather. No longer hot and sunny, it has turned quite dramatically and is now wet and windy, grey and misty. Which is a shame, because today's plan includes a boat trip on Loch Linnhe. After breakfast, something the hotel is pretty good at, we check out and get a taxi to the station to leave our bags in one of their very large lockers. While there my phone rings; it's the boat operator - 'were we still coming?' they ask. We confirm that we are and will be there before too much longer. The weather appears to be easing a bit but it's still not ideal by a long chalk.

"Souter's Lass" is an old Royal Naval tender that worked on the South Coast as "Bournemouth Belle" before operating as a ferry between John o’Groats and Orkney from 1980 to 1987. She now runs cruises on Loch Linnhe and thankfully has a sheltered, downstairs bar offering many things, but today the hot chocolate is most welcome. The mist clears quite well as we set off and we can see everything our guide talks about, with the added bonus of a sea eagle seen flying down the loch. Just before Corran, we turn back towards a rocky island where a colony of seals basks, as best it could. The skipper expertly approaches the isle and we get fantastic views of the creatures.

Handily, the boat is operated by the same people who run the very popular seafood restaurant on the pier and our lunch booking meshes neatly with the end of the trip. The restaurant doesn't disappoint with some excellent seafood nicely washed down with a bottle of Picpoul.

After lunch we head for our last distillery of the trip, the Ben Nevis distillery on the outskirts of Fort William under the shadow of its namesake. It's a much more industrial affair than the others we'd seen and, although the weather is not helping, it has an air of disappointment about it. Almost all its output is snapped up by its Japanese owners, leaving too little to market anywhere but at the distillery itself. It's nice enough, and its rarity is tempting but we resist adding to our seven bottle haul.

A last visit to the Ben Nevis pub is absolutely called for before picking up some picnic items for the journey home.

We get to an unnervingly deserted station but we're early so don't panic until Sarah notices the screen says our train is "cancelled", not 'late' or 'delayed' but "cancelled", and there's no-one there to explain themselves. Eventually someone is coaxed out of the back of the ticket office to tell us that the train broke down on Friday and they haven't managed to sort a repair or replacement in the intervening two days. We were to be ferried to Edinburgh by coach where we would wait for the Inverness section of the train to join. A three hour coach journey, a three hour wait at Edinburgh Waverley before we could board (and sleep), but we would get to Euston on time. Hooray. Grrr. The coach journey is horrendous and only briefly lit up by passing through the always stunning Glen Coe. The journey through the Trossachs is beautiful but coaches make me queasy at the best of times and this road is very twisty-turny. Eventually arriving at, or rather near, Waverley station to endure the further long wait until we finally board the train at nearly 1am. We do indeed arrive at Euston on time but its a fairly rag-tag bunch who fetch up at Waterloo for the SW Train back to Fratton.

We have since agreed a compensation package for our homeward journey troubles.

Carbon saved: 112.5kg