Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
with between 35 to 40 and Lagavulin with 40. Bruichladdich is usually the second least
peated whisky, with 8 p.p.m. of phenol in the mix, but the malt we're given a few grains
of to chew on is absolutely loaded; it has ten times as much as they'd usually use here;
fully 80 p.p.m. It'll be a while before this monster of a dram thumps onto a bar or counter
near any of us, but - always assuming that it doesn't overwhelm the seaside freshness
Bruichladdich is famous for, but works with it and adds to it instead - it should be a
mighty piece of work, worth waiting for.
While we've been here, a couple of guys and a digger have been tearing up a large part of
the central courtyard Bruichladdich is built around; demolishing old foundations in pre-
paration for putting down new ones, allowing glimpses of old brick-lined drains and sec-
tions of ancient wall. They're still doing this when we leave, late, to head for the south of
the island, where we're due to meet Toby for lunch and have a look round Ardbeg.
If Bruichladdich feels like a place still very much in development, Ardbeg exudes an air
of having already achieved the sort of transition the Laddie is aiming for. They produce
a lot more whisky here (I'm not going to mention the bottles-per-whatever much more,
honest); 35,000 bottles per week, or over six times what Bruichladdich does. This is the
result of a lot of rebuilding, both physically and, more to the point, promotionally. Quiet
through most of the eighties, Ardbeg is now owned by Glenmorangie, who have built
the Ardbeg brand into something accepted (once more) as being worth mentioning in the
same breath as Laphroaig and Lagavulin. They spend 35 per cent of their budget on ad-
vertising and promotion - most companies spend about sixteen per cent - and this has to
make a huge difference. This all makes it sound a bit too corporate, though; the feeling
you get when you're in the place is that it's been lovingly restored to and beyond past
glory.
The restaurant in the Visitor Centre is exceptional; we meet Toby, apologise for being
late, and have yet more wonderful Islay food. I'm convinced I can feel my belt tighten-
ing as we eat. Toby explains that a lot of Islay produce is almost-but-not-quite-organic
because the farmers have agreements with the RSPB and the Nature Conservancy people
that they'll let the vast flocks of migrating geese use their fields when they come through;
this means that they have no choice but to use fertilisers to bring on their crops and har-
vest them before the geese get here; otherwise the birds would neck the lot.
Fooded, we meet up with Stuart Thomson, the distillery manager. We'd actually said
Hi the day before, when Martin and I were wandering around the place taking photos
and Stuart was watching one of his children learn to ride a bike (a lot of distillery man-
agers live on site). Stuart has been busy over lunch with a party of French food and drink
writers, on Islay to sample what the island has to offer.
