A highlight in these parts is, of course, the Bowmore Distillery, producer of a rounded single malt for over 240 years. Around the bay, in pretty Port Charlotte, the Museum of Islay Life is stuffed with artefacts tracing island history from the Stone Age to the Second World War, when flying-boat squadrons landed on Loch Indaal. Spirited Soaps sells toiletries fragrant with heather, myrtle and single malt while The Celtic House stocks arty island souvenirs. Start off in Bowmore, the island’s capital, where you’ll find Islay’s best shops. Come for the whisky, stay for the wilderness. But beyond the grassy dunes that back the empty, white-sand beaches, adventure beckons: skilled surfers ride fearsome Atlantic swells birders flock to the vast, wildlife-rich tidal lochs and hikers and bikers venture into the rural northeast for epic views of the peaks of the Paps of Jura across the water. Even reluctant drivers will revel in navigating quiet rural lanes down to bays where sheep roam free and locals collect cockles and crab for beach picnics. There’s plenty of action for outdoors lovers, too. Its distilleries are found all over, draped along craggy bays in beautiful old farm estates - all whitewash warehouses, gabled roofs and regal smokestacks - and merit exploration even if you don’t give a damn about a dram. The peat that perfumes Islay’s legendary whiskies dominates the landscape on this rugged Southern Hebridean isle, and while the island is synonymous with whisky, you need no real interest in the local spirit to wind up here. From there, it’s a final 100 miles of road, ferry or air travel to where Scotland frays gradually into the open Atlantic.īut what rewards await. A wild, rural treat, Islay is well worth the work it takes me to get here - a winding journey on board the Caledonian Sleeper for a dawn arrival in Glasgow.
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