
The Isle of Islay - Queen of the Hebrides
Posted 2017-02-09 12:11:41
Should you ever
leave the warmth of a docked Caledonian MacBrayne Ferry and drive up the ramp
onto Port Ellen pier when rain-filled wind is shrieking in from the Atlantic
Ocean, I’m willing to bet you’ll think whoever named the Isle of Islay, ‘Queen of the Hebrides’, made a big mistake.
But
in the minutes it takes to reach Bowmore, the island’s ‘capital’, you just
might change your mind. A huge rainbow arcing over the church at the top of Main
Street might be the decider, or the sight of the sea shimmering at the bottom
of the brae, or fluffy white clouds racing across a vast blue sky.
On the other hand, you could have all
four seasons within the same few minutes.
Bowmore,
founded in 1768, sits on the east shore of Loch Indall. When the wind dies
down, and it occasionally does, a distinct smell, some might call it a
fragrance, is definitely noticeable. It’s a mixture of peat reek, brine and
malted barley. There’s also a hint of the ‘angels portion,’ from the
evaporation of whisky stored in barrels laid down over many years.
Bowmore distillery,
near the centre of this large village, is a grouping of gleaming white
buildings surmounted by a pagoda style roof. As well as producing whisky to delight
drinkers of the amber nectar across the world, it has another rare distinction.
Waste heat from its whisky making process is recycled to help reduce fuel bills
at the leisure centre next door. This building was once Warehouse No. 3. It
held barrels filled with more whisky than the swimming pool now holds water. In
a nice touch, the pool’s crafted, curved ceiling looks like the inside of an
enormous barrel.
I wonder if a swim
there would improve a less than perfect breast stroke? For the island’s children, who
previously had swimming lessons in the sea, the pool must seem like the lap of
luxury.
The
church at the top of Main Street was built in 1767 by Daniel Campbell,
principal Laird of Islay. One story tells how the church was constructed in a
round style so there would be no corners in which the devil could hide. Inside,
the pews and plain, polished wood fittings show all the signs of loving care.
Let’s
retrace our route back to Port Ellen. The road runs over Duich Moss, a vast
peat moor looking dreich in a drizzle. From the flatness on one side, high
hills rise, blue-hued with distance. On the other, the moorland ends in sand
dunes hiding Islay’s longest beach that stretches some five miles round Laggan
Bay. There’s a golf course on the links and an airport.
At Port Ellen we’ll take the road east through
the distillery villages of Laphroaig, Lagavulin and Ardbeg. No wonder this is
called ‘whisky road!’
After a few miles
through woodland, the road becomes a roughish, single track with passing places
close to the shore at some points. Be ready with the binoculars. Here’s a
chance to spot seals and sea birds and let other traffic, in more of a hurry,
pass. We’re making for the ruin of Kildalton church.
It’s thought the
spectacular cross in the churchyard was sculpted on Islay from a single slab of
local stone. The style suggests the sculptor came from the workshops on Iona
round about AD 800. On the front there are carvings of saints and angels
surrounding a figure of Christ as well as Old Testament biblical scenes. On the
back there’s an intricate Celtic pattern. It’s easy to imagine a priest using
this cross as a kind of visual aid in explaining the message of the Bible to
parishioners.
The church is roofless. It was probably built
in the late 12th or early 13th century under the patronage of the Lords of the
Isles. Inside, fixed on one wall, there’s a grave slab showing a warrior. Other
carved slabs are sunk into the grass floor.
We’ll return to the
Lords of the Isles later, but for now, let us consider a wee dram. We’ll go
back again towards Port Ellen on ‘whisky road’. Of the three distilleries along
here (there are five more on Islay) you’ll notice they are close to the shore.
This was for practical reasons. All the distilleries had their own piers where
produce was shipped out and materials brought in. Though each gives guided
tours, with a complimentary tasting, Ardbeg Distillery is especially welcoming
with a café /restaurant and a shop. If you’re not taken with whisky you might
appreciate a bowl of soup before heading back round Loch Indall.
Looking across the
loch, from one side or the other, lights of lone cottages and small villages
are a romantic sight, twinkling in the darkness. By day, it’s a lovely drive
following the shoreline to Port Charlotte, arguably the prettiest village on
Islay, and home of the Museum of Islay Life.
Some items on
display in the museum including gramophone needles, school slates, inkwells and
fountain pens may well be remembered by an older generation. The apparatus used
in the making of illicit whisky and tools for cutting peat to heat a home might
be less familiar.
Islay is a
surprisingly large island, with sandy bays between rocky headlands on the
coast, a hilly interior studded with fresh water lochs and good farming land.
On the north coast, Loch Gruinart is a sea loch running far inland. At Loch
Gruinart Visitor Centre, I learnt how local farmers use agricultural practices
for the benefit of people and wild life. In places, fields may seem neglected
and waterlogged but this is deliberate. These ideal conditions have been
created for wading birds. Bird song fills the air, and as you pass other acres
of lush grass, hundreds of geese take wing, seem to hang in the wind for a few
moments, before flying off to settle beside a new food source.
Travel north
eastwards along the road towards Port Askaig and you’ll notice the narrow
turn-off leading to Loch Finlaggan. Named after Findlugan, an Irish monk who
was a contemporary of Columba, the loch is not especially beautiful or set in
dramatic scenery. The surrounding slopes are not overly steep, or high. Yet it
was here that the Lords of the Isles had their base, on two fairly small
islands.
The MacDonald Lords
of the Isles, (including the first MacDonald ever), were descended from
Somerled, a 12th century prince. So if your name’s MacDonald, chances are
you’ll have royal blood from somewhere down this line.
From Finlaggan
Trust Visitor Centre you can stroll out to the larger island by way of a wooden
walkway and wander through the ruins of the lords’ church and house.
For a time, these
lords ruled over all of the Hebrides and a large part of the north - west
mainland of Scotland. In their grand hall on Eilean Mor (Gaelic: large island),
though it doesn’t seem so big nowadays, they entertained nobility from
Scotland, England, Ireland and France. On the smaller island, a few yards away
across the water, privy councillors would sit at a stone table to discuss the
business of collecting rents and maintaining a vast territory.
At Port Askaig, as
well as arriving from the mainland or leaving Islay on the Caledonian MacBrayne
ferry, you can take a smaller ferry across the narrow strait to the Island of
Jura. It only takes ten minutes but Jura’s wildness is another world away as
George Orwell discovered when writing his famous novel 1984.
For me, that will
have to be another trip, another time.
I left Islay agreeing with the sentiments
expressed in the last verse of the song written by Iain Simpson.
And soon I shall
return again, to Islay’s gentle shore
And see the tide
waves wide, the bright lights of Bowmore
Or wander through
Bruichladdich, as night begins to fall
And see the moonlit
beam on lovely Lochindall.
First published in
The People’s Friend
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