November 2015

While Fritz and Mary Muntean and their son Bruce were to use the flat, Richard and I took off for a bit of UK exploration. On our day of departure, we had the car all packed and were right on time, but when I put the key into Maggie’s ignition, the battery had died completely (I had not used the car for two months), and we had to wait a couple of hours before the AA arrived and sold us a new and stronger battery. Our first two nights we spent with Steve and Annie in Grazely. Delicious food and company. The next night was with Marion and Leslie in Bath, and this was followed by two nights in Wookey Hole. Amy and Jose’s children, Lucia and Marcos, are darling, and we had a lovely dinner at their place the first night, lunch the next day with Amy and Serena in Glastonbury and the evening again in Glastonbury where, with Amy, we went to a Wendy Rule concert (the first part was Heloise Pinkerston). It was Trudoxhill that was next where we spent an enjoyable time with Wendy before returning the following day to Marion and Leslie’s in Bath. They had already left for Scotland but had offered their place to us. We used the time as one of our 5:2 abstinence days but did descend the hill for a drink of the warm waters of Sulis.

On the 9th of November, we set off for our northern trek. The rains were lashing, and by the time we reached the Royal Hotel in Kirkby Lonsdale, we were exhausted and decided to spend two nights instead of just one. The intervening day was surprisingly sunny and beautiful, and we were able to explore the medieval town, enjoy Ruskin’s View, walk along the banks of the River Lune which would have been impossible the day before, and get to the Devil’s Bridge. The interlude was only an interlude, and the rains were back the next day when we set off for Arden overlooking Loch Lomond where we lodged with Marion and Leslie with whom we always have good times and exchanges. We reached the West Loch Hotel in Tarbert in the afternoon of the 12th of November.

On News Briefing the following morning it was said that all West coast ferries in Scotland were suspended for the day and the next thanks to the approach of Hurricane Abigail. After breakfast, we set off anyway and found that our 13:00 ferry was departing earlier at 12:30. So, most gratefully, we were able to keep to schedule and get to Islay where Grahame from the Hotel Charlotte fetched us. There was a lengthy power outage that was ongoing when we arrived. During the drive from Port Askaig to Port Charlotte, Grahame mentioned the paradisiacal immunity of the island which reminded me of the Midi – all the more poignant a reflection when later that night I was awake for most of the time listening to the news concerning the jihadist horror in Paris. I was able to communicate with Marie-Laure to find out that she and her family were OK despite being in the epicenter of the attacks. Anne-Laure and her family were all right as well. But the rest of our time on beloved Islay was eerily counter-echoed by the reality of Paris.

Abigail was somehow a ‘non-show’, though everyone was commenting on the lakes that had appeared where there never were any previously. There had been only one short duration the previous day on the ferry when the ship lunged and tossed (I was attempting to pee at a urinal) and Richard said that foam from a huge wave covered all the portholes and windows. The electricity was finally restored for Islay, and our first night, Kenny into whose hands I had placed ourselves served us Coal Ila, John’s Peaty Dram (1997) and Elements of Islay. We were asked if we minded sharing our table, which we did not, and thereby enjoyed meeting Fiona Rintoul and her father – Fionna having authored The Leipzig Affair and is now working on Islay: The Whisky Island which is due next May.

The beginning of the whisky tour on the 14th that Isabelle, Grahame’s wife, had arranged for us was at the Lagavulin distillery where Sophie served us five different drams each with a different chocolate. Neither Richard nor I had ever previously started imbibing whisky at 10:00 in the morning. Somehow we managed, though a short nap and some coffee back at the hotel afterwards did help. Neal was our driver. We had left the car in Kennacraig since there would have been no way we could have visited all eight of Islay’s distilleries, sampled and driven ourselves. Our post-nap & coffee afternoon the first day was then Bruichladdich where Kelsey took a group of us through the tour before we sampled. Neal next drove us to the Octomore spring from which Bruichladdich gets its water and which was attended by James Brown, a larger than life figure whom Isabelle had told us we would enjoy – and we did. James is a man with an unending sense of humour as well as being a jack-of-all-trades. The spring water was utterly delicious but then, from behind a plank, James pulled out a bottle of Octomore which we proceeded to finish. Back at the hotel, James joined us at the bar with Steve, Gail and Gail’s boyfriend from Edinburgh. When one of us mentioned to James that he should not have another drink, he replied that he was a policeman and the restriction did not apply to him. Another delicious meal at the Hotel Charlotte concluded our first day.

What I learned the next morning from a different James, our guide at the Laphroaig distillery, was “smoke to oak”. The younger the whisky, the stronger the peat flavouring. As a whisky ages, the smokey flavor is replaced by that of the oak cask in which it is stored. Laphroaig was the skimpiest as far as sampling was concerned, but Tommy served us one dram which, of course, was delicious. Neal next took us to the large Celtic Cross of Kildaton before we had cappuccini for lunch. A delightful Hester later guided us through Bunnahabhain – she reminding me much of Chloe. We had four drams there before visiting Mark and Helga Unsworth’s Islay Studios – Mark being a photographer. I sent from there a card to Peter. Back at the hotel that evening along with oysters, salmon and homemade ice cream for dinner, Kenny came up with some Bruichladdich Cuvé 382 for us.

Margaret was our guide at Ardbeg the next morning and Linda that for Bowmore in the afternoon. That evening, at the hotel, we enjoyed a lovely whisky tasting dinner with David Wood, the manager of Coal Ila, although we did not learn until the following day that it was his last day as manager. This was the day that Richard seems to have reached his fill, and, being the Virgo I am and unable to waste, I was the one who felt compelled to finish his drinks along with my own. At least Richard had recovered by the next day.

Salmon and scrambled eggs for breakfast on Tuesday the 17th of November and then Leah at Kilchoman in the morning and Justine (from Lithuania) at Coal Ila in the afternoon. Both distilleries are impressive – Kilchoman for its small size and private intimacy; Coal Ila for its enormous size and stunning view of the sea; and both for their whiskies. Because of the weather, we had to forego our scheduled walk on the beach of Machir Bay. We also cancelled out on the visit to Finlaggan, the home and ‘Cradle’ of the Macdonald clan. That evening at the hotel, Grahame wanted to offer us something special.  He came up with a Port Ellen that is no longer available but was truly something unique to enjoy. James Brown had also come by for drinks at the bar.

Our supposed last day included a morning ferry to the island of Jura where we visited the distillery and were guided by Fiona. Since Leslie had earlier informed us that the drinking limit of Scotland is much lower than it is in England and that often the following day one can still be over the limit, we had decided – regretfully – not to sample at Jura. However, when we emerged from the distillery, Neal informed us that, thanks to Hurricane Barry, all ferries had been suspended. It seemed strange since the weather was much calmer, even slightly sunny, than when we had crossed in the advent of Abigail. So we were nevertheless obliged to check into the Port Askaig Hotel for the night. We were up and on the 07:00 ferry the next morning by 06:30. Barry appeared to have been another ‘no show’ and like Abigail had diverted to the north.

I had at least been able to phone from Port Askaig to the Hotel Crinan to change our reservation. We reached the hotel by late morning on Thursday the 19th. It is a large 1930s building looking onto the water, but they were facing the same problem as had the Old Woolen Mill on Islay who had also been flooded. With the hotel, it was their main dinning room. Both had lost their floor carpeting. Richard and I went for a walk along the canal and then into, up and over the Crinan Woods – a rainforest rich with mosses and ferns as well as birdlife. The hotel itself was filled with the paintings of Frances Macdonald, and she has invited us to her private viewing at the Portland Gallery in London on the 15th of December.

By this point, we were no longer drinking and thought that maybe we would never do so again. We drove from Crinan to Edinburgh and checked into the Overseas House with a room overlooking the Princes Street Gardens and the castle. We had time only for cappuccini but not for napping before we walked through Old Town to reach Clarissa’s. It had been years – maybe two decades – since we had last seen each other. From her place we taxied to Iris on Thistle Street for a most pleasant meal and time.

The following day, we went to the National Gallery which is splendid. We saw there two portraits done by the artist Allan Ramsay (1713-1784) which were meaningful to us since, in the Overseas House, he had lived and we were staying in the Ramsay Suite. Later a marathon walk took us to two different hotels suggested by Clarissa to find out their possible availability for next summer’s Edinburgh Festival, but they are both super expensive and unlikely. Back at the Overseas House we were able to enjoy the Diwali fireworks from our window to the park across the street. We then broke our abstinence after all by taking a tram to the Scotch Malt Whisky Society in Leith where we imbibed Tobermory 42.16 (oily & coastal, and delicious), Linkwood 39.111 (lightly peated) & Coal Ila 53.231 (heavily peated). A most pleasant liquid dinner in all. The day had been sunny, dry and frigid, but when we left the Society, it was now warmish and raining.

For our last day in Edinburgh, Sunday the 22nd, we climbed the Mound again and explored a bit more of Old Town. Much later, we joined the George Street festivities and witnessed the lighting of the city’s Christmas lights as well as another firework display. I had some delicious mussels and a hake chowder at the Café St. Honoré for that night’s dinner.  We were given some fudge for free by Andaluz where we earlier had had our afternoon coffees.

Our following night in York with Natacha and Jonathan we had pizza for dinner.  Natacha took us through York’s centre the next day which seemed much different than it had 25 years earlier on Samhain. And it had also stopped raining. The highlight, however, was that evening at the National Centre for Early Music where we enjoyed the Hungarian group Söndörgö – three brothers, one cousin and a friend, five in all. Spirited and fun music and a strikingly riveting counterpoise to the Da’ish monstrosity. This was followed by a delicious home-cooked meal that Natacha prepared.

We drove from York to London on the 25th – arriving just as Fritz, Mary and Bruce were moving to the Club. We joined them there the following afternoon for coffee and then again in the evening for an enjoyable Thanksgiving meal. It was also time for Richard and me to get back to our missed negroni. On Friday, Richard was able to get his passport back from the lawyer’s and I got my shoes repaired in the City. Saturday, we went to the London campus of the University of Wales Trinity Saint David for the First Sophia Centre London Conference. It was a day of wonderful talks on astrology and sacred geography – with Bernadette Brady and Bernard Eccles being the two more than excellent ‘bookends’. But it was lovely to see Bernadette, Darrelyn, Nick, Patrick and Bernard among many others. Richard and I finished the evening with whisky, then had a 5:2 day of abstinence, and finally yesterday, the last day of November, we had our neighbour Peter over for chicken and drams.

All in all, it has been a relatively costly month but also a most delightful one – not only for the whisky but also to have been able to see so many dearly loved ones.  And further, despite the weather which at times, if not many times, has been abysmal, both Scotland and England are immensely beautiful and a joy in all. For now, however, it feels good just to be back home in London and in this fascinating and wondrous city. My heart lingers a bit though for Islay. Virtually everyone we met there was gracious, warm and friendly.