Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
glass shop and head back across its wee bridge and up the side of the trickling stream to
the Glen Grant gardens. These are quietly gorgeous.
The gardens are set within a small, sinuous glen behind the distillery. They were
stocked largely with plants brought from India and Africa by James Grant the younger,
who was a major in the army. They were reopened in 1995 after being restored following
decades of neglect, and Seagram, the distillery's owners since 1972, deserve wheelbar-
rows of praise for what they've had done here (they own Chivas and Strathisla, so maybe
some of the Strathisla fivers have gone into all this horticulture).
It's yet another hot day and the slight climb up to a wonderfully gothic circular gazebo
on a rise leaves us glad of the shade and a seat, the better to take in the architectural use
of antlers and giant pine cones in the building's roof, which is something you don't see
every day. If it had been cooler and our bellies hadn't been rumbling in anticipation of
the evening meal, I'd have liked to have explored more of the garden, but never mind;
definitely worth a visit even if you can't stand whisky.
If you do like whisky then Glen Grant will probably already be familiar; a light,
flowery dram available at as little as five years (especially in Italy - what is it about Itali-
ans and very young whisky?). The 10-year-old I bought is sort of firm and nutty and dry
as a fino sherry. A perfect mid-afternoon whisky, or with chilled water as an aperitif.
We play Dave's game, which, when it started out, was based on one of my SF books,
Excession
, and had the same name. In its latest incarnation it involves this nine-dimen-
sional set of boards and seems to be awfully complicated. I'm drunk and stoned and that
surely isn't helping matters, but even in my present state I have the distinct impression
that were I sober I'd still be seriously confused, just by the game. The game isn't really
in nine dimensions - even McCartney isn't quite that mad - it's in three dimensions with
nine vertical levels. Trust me; this is more than enough to make it so deeply, fractally per-
plexing that it might as well be in nine dimensions.
'So it is surrounded?' I ask.
'Yes.'
'But why can't it move out diagonally?'
'On its own board or on higher or lower ones?'
'Both. Troth. All of the above.'
'Well, it just can't; that's the rule.'
'But things
can
move diagonally in this game?'
'Oh, yeah, of course.'
'Right. They just can't escape diagonally?'
'Other things can, just not this. If it could move, that is. Of course it can't, but if it
could, then it wouldn't be able to. Not with the pieces like this. Do you see what I mean?'
'Uh-huh.' I sit back from the table, thinking. 'May I ask a question, David?'
