Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
'A Glenlivet? Certainly sir. Which would you like? We have Glenbogus Glenlivet,
Glendokery
Glenlivet,
Glenmunchkin
Glenlivet,
Glengeneric
Glenlivet,
Glen-
nowherenear—'
'Do you just have
the
Glenlivet?'
'Hmm.' (Bar person strokes chin.) 'Not sure I know that one …'
Glenlivet was known as a fine whisky when it still had to be smuggled to its markets,
and its name was being taken in vain even then. When Scotch started to go legit, Glen-
livet's owner, George Smith, was the first person to apply for one of the newfangled li-
cences; this did not, it has to be said, meet with the universal approval of his peers, and
necessitated Mr Smith carrying a pair of loaded pistols everywhere. His son was the J. G.
Smith whose name appears on the bottles to this day, and who moved the distillery from
its earlier even more remote location a mile away on the shoulder of the hill to where it is
today.
It's not a very inspiring set of buildings, but the Visitor Centre is one of the best in
Scotland, the tour is, amazingly, free, and the whisky is still one of the absolutely defin-
itive Speyside malts; light and fresh but rich at the same time, and with a scent like a
summer meadow. The one I went for was a 21-year-old Archive, which was all that plus
with a delicious hint of roast chestnut about it; refreshing and warming at the same time.
When we finally started sampling this bottle in July, Ann, Dad and I found this expression
far
too easy to drink; one of those worryingly superb almost overly approachable drams
that even people who don't usually like whisky are probably going to like to the extent
of asking for another. And this, to be brutally frank, is only ever an unambiguously good
thing if you are a person of an exceptionally good, kind and generous nature. Which I
have ambitions to be - it's what my dad is - but have not yet really achieved.
Whatever; the Glenlivet is whisky to put a smile on your face.
Aberlour is one of those distilleries which exemplify something of a contradiction in
whisky-making. It's often the distilleries which physically stand out which are the least
bottled as single malts, the vast majority of their production going into blends (95 per cent
is the figure you hear bandied about most often), while the distilleries which seem to shy
away from attention - which, in other words, blend in to their surroundings - are the ones
most likely to be bottled purely as single malts. I guess it's partly age, and size. The last
heroic age of distillery-building in the sixties and seventies produced some very striking
and prominent buildings which from the start were always going to produce whisky al-
most exclusively for blends.
Aberlour is at the other end of the spectrum; practically camouflaged amongst the
other rather nondescript buildings at one end of Aberlour town. If the buildings are un-
distinguished, though, the whisky is anything but. This is one of the best Speysides you
can buy; enormous - but not unbalancing - amounts of sherry, buckets of fruit, layers and
