Our introduction to Scotland came in the wee small hours of the morning. It was well before 7:00am when I first heard that unmistakable drone that replicates the sound of a cat mutilating a squirrel. (We should have only been so fortunate.) Pipers and their “instruments” met us at the pier right outside of our cabin. Being the morning person and the all-around positive soul that she is, The Better Half jumped onto her balcony to take photographs. I, on the other hand, utter a few nasty epithets, prayed for a nasty case of chapped lips to blight them both, and hid underneath my pillow.
Yup.
Welcome the f*** to Scotland.
Where the men proudly show off their hairy legs even in the dankest and Moorish of climates and the women wonder to themselves how they ever could compete with such a look.
We arrived in Greenock, outside of Glasgow, in brilliant sunshine and warm spring temperatures. Every single person we met today, told us that this weather is a treat and very unusual. The Scots, much like the Irish, are infatuated with the weather. We Canadians thought that we cornered the market on climate bitching? We’ve got nothing on the residents of the British Isles.
Today’s excursion featured a quick trip to Loch Lomond, home of the famous song and then the alcoholic portion of our trip continued at Glengoyne Distillery. The market research and product testing need to continue otherwise we can’t write-off this vacation, right? Imagine an eye-rolling emoji in this space.
In all seriousness, I had acquiesced to a certain amount of tasting on this trip and I did promise to partake. Glengoyne is a beautifully picturesque place just outside of the Scottish Highlands. A still independent distillery in a world of conglomerates, we were treated to a full tour and tasting of the wares. The rest of this post will answer some basic questions.
Did you actually drink Scotch in Scotland?
Yes, I did. A 12-year-old that The Husband implored me to finish and an 18-year-old which I poured into his glass when his back was turned. Honestly, it is all just furniture cleaner to me and the subtleties are lost in the burn in my throat.
Can you taste the difference in various brands or whisky? (no “e” in Scotland because they like pissing off the Irish.)
Me? Hell no. Remember that furniture cleaner thing. My whisky palette is stuck in the development of a child despite the fact that The Husband is a collector of the stuff and owns hundreds of individual bottles and brands.
Is there really a difference in taste between Irish and Scotch whisk (e) y?
Apparently so but who knew?
Is there a really a difference in taste between Isla, Scappa, and Highlands?
Apparently so but who knew?
Will there be other tastings on this trip?
Not formal excursions to any distilleries but we are headed to a street in Edinburgh known in whisky circles as the Royal Mile where I’m told that the brands and drams flow like the Nile. I plan on searching out Outlander paraphernalia while the boys drool and shop. Claire and Jamie forever.
**Sea day tomorrow. See you all from Inverness on Monday.
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