Tweed & Malt

I started my internship at Bruichladdich this week, and so far I’ve had a bit of work and plenty of scenery.

It’s quaint and quiet.  I’m staying just across the road from the distillery at the Bruichladdich “Academy House.”  Mary, that evil one, is making it her mission to fatten me up.  She makes me breakfast every morning– a strong farmer’s breakfast, for a slight young barman.  Every morning there’s a large plate of fried eggs, bacon, sausages, blood pudding, toast, yogurt, fruit, coffee, and orange juice.   I about fell back asleep after that first one.

There’s an old bike in the garage that I can take into the nearest town– Port Charlotte.  It’s about a two mile ride, and entirely along the coast.  You see peat bogs, a war memorial, rocks, sheep, some wooly-looking Islay cows, more sheep, there’s an old church, and what seem to be barley fields.  Though it’s not nearly harvest so I can’t be certain.

After work I read about whisky, and there’s whisky on hand whenever I need a sip for reference.  Last night, for instance, I learned that not all Islay whisky is peated– and Bruichladdich “Rocks” served as an example of a fine whisky that’s expressive of unpeated malt.
Islay life is at a slow pace.  So far I have learned there are four seasons to a day, and there is no rush– which helps me understand that good whisky takes patience.