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Friday 20 October 2006--We are off to Edinburgh this morning, and start by driving up the valley of the Spey. Along the way, we pass the impressive Tormore distillery, and stop long enough to photograph it from the road.

We have in mind to take the railway up Cairn Gorm, but the weather is not suitable. We spend an hour strolling in Aviemore instead. I was hoping that this would be a reasonably attractive outdoor center, like Callander, but it turns out to be an ugly little strip mall of a town. Okay, now I know.

Later, we stop in Pitlochry, a very touristy little town, but pleasantly so. We walk up and down the main street in search of the peculiar confection known as Scottish tablet. I find several different kinds.

We arrive at our guest house in New Town in Edinburgh just ahead of afternoon rush hour, and I am able to find a parking space that will serve for the weekend. A few spaces away, by the curb, is a large rubbish bin--a mini-dumpster, I guess--that one may open by stepping on a bar. The unloved chèvre from Schiphol, which has traveled from Gretna Green to the Brough of Birsay and most of the way back, finally finds a home.

After a short rest, we have a pub meal at Milne's on Rose Street, a ten-minute walk from the guest house. Then we head up toward the Bow Bar, off the Royal Mile, but rain forces us into the Guildford Arms for another pint. Shortly we are ensconced, most happily, in the Bow. The uni kids we met in Plockton told us they'd try to meet us here tonight, but, not surprisingly, they don't show. To our delight, Nick and Kenny, whom we met last year, do. We find a table and proceed to have a marvelous time, taking turns buying rounds. I have a Douglas Laing Bunnahabhain; a Gordon & MacPhail Cask Old Pulteney (Kenny has the same, and we are both horrified by the burnt popcorn overtones, which persist into the following drams); a Dormant Distilleries Glenglassaugh (redolent of cherries); a Cadenheads Highland Park; and a Douglas Laing St Magdelene. The highlight of the evening, though, is meeting the delightful Susan Webster, another online whisky acquaintance, and an employee of independent bottlers Douglas Laing. She is charming and fun and thoroughly tolerant of four drunken bozos.

Nick wisely goes home when the Bow closes. Ron, Kenny, and I end up in the Standing Order, where we have a thoroughly unnecessary pint. Somehow we all find our respective beds.

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Tormore


At the Bow Bar: Nick, Kenny, Susan, Ron, Mr Tattie Heid
Mr Tattie Heid shows a healthy glow from his sojourn in sunny Orkney, whereas Kenny has plainly been drinking.

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