Nectar from the lap of the Gods

Islay, heaven on earth for whiskey aficionados.  Home to a handful of the worlds most famous distilleries.  The smell of peat smoke hangs in the air as they craft some of the finest wee drams on the planet.  We picked up some crackers for our growing collection.  I’m not sure how we are going to smuggle the contraband back into New Zealand!  The people are fabulous, the food is delicious (crab and langoustine are hauled out of the water next to the island and jump onto your plate) washed down by some stunning smokey whiskey flavours.

And there are deer, lots of deer.  We spent the day on the neighboring island of Jura.  Vital stats: 200 people, 1 distillery and 5500 deer.  We spotted a couple of hundred from the road on our drive from one end of the island to the other.  Yes they shoot them, it’s the main income source for the island.  If you can’t bag a deer here then you should give up and take up knitting!  Back to the mainland now and north to the the Isle of Skye.

As my Scottish grandmother used to say as she took her dram, “nectar from the lap of the Gods”.  She was right.

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