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Monday 23 October 2006--I've dropped Ron at the airport in Glasgow after the short but congested drive from Edinburgh, and am
now alone in the car for the first time in two weeks. Until last year, I made these trips entirely solo, and have always
thought that that's the way I most enjoy traveling. It forces me to be more outgoing, and at the same time frees me from
worrying about another person's feelings when making decisions. I am therefore thinking that I will be glad to be on my own
again, as much as I enjoy Ron's company. I am surprised to find this is not the case. Perhaps it's because the last week
of my trip is unscripted, and I therefore feel a bit directionless; or maybe it's the letdown I often feel towards the end
of a trip; or it might just be that it's too quiet in the car, and I have no one to anchor me when my thoughts begin to fly.
In any case, I am feeling a bit subdued as I approach the terminal at Ardrossan, prior to boarding the ferry for Arran.
We board under sunny skies, but a blanket of cloud sweeps over as we approach Brodick. I'm only on the island for two nights, one full day, and have no intention of trying to see all of it. Anyway, I've been here before, in 1999. I gave the place short shrift then, too, and I really should plan to spend three or four days here sometime. But I did a full circuit of the island then, and saw the stones at Machrie Moor, Arran's prime archeological site. Somehow, though, I missed the ring at Auchagallon. As I drive off the ferry, I commence a circuit of the northern half of the island, with the express intent of correcting that omission. The Auchagallon circle is actually the remnant of a kerbed cairn ("curbed" to us Yanks), likely very similar to the burial cairns at Kilmartin Glen. It sits on a knoll, very close to a fence, and I consider for some time how to photograph it. Finally, I stand against the fence and take five vertically-oriented photos, which I will stitch into a single ultra-wide-angle shot. I loop around the northern end of the island to Lochranza, where I will be staying tonight. Drive past the village and pull into the Arran Distillery, thinking to take the 3:30 tour. There's a small crowd waiting, however, with several hyperactive kids, so I go back to the village to check into the B&B. No one in. I have a look at the castle, virtually across the street, and take a quick photo. It's reputed to have been Hergé's model for the one in the Tintin story, The Black Island (L'Île Noire). (See History of the Black Island at tintinologist.org.) Then I go back to the distillery for the 4:30 tour, which looks to be considerably more calm. I have a hard time judging the standard distillery tour these days, as they are necessarily geared toward the general public (except in Islay, which is one of the great things about going there). The Arran tour seems as good as any. The facility is scarcely ten years old, and still seems very new and clean. Its boxy functionality reminds me momentarily of Allt-a-Bhainne...no, the comparison is absurd. The one is a small, independently-owned boutique distillery, and the other is a huge and anonymous blend-fodder factory. Find my landlady in at the B&B and get my room. The place is a deconsecrated church, and the rosette window allows sunlight to stream into the sitting/breakfast room. It must have been a nice effect on Sunday mornings. Dinner and drinks this evening are in the Lochranza Hotel. There is beer from the local brewery, and a vast selection of malts, some 300 bottles. I choose to stick with local produce and commence a small Arran survey. The distillery being so young, they are not able to offer a range of ages, so they produce a variety of single-barrel cask finishes instead. This evening, I have calvados and cognac finishes. I have a weakness for calvados, and enjoy the whisky's apple notes and buttery texture. Next |
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On the ferry to Arran
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Machrie Moor (1999)
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Auchagallon Cairn
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Lochranza Castle
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Arran stills
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Sitting room
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