by Keith Savage on October 7, 2011 · 1 comment
A gale swirled through Glen Chalmadale toward its impending dissipation at Lochranza Bay. The flat tidal bay at the horn of Arran cups sailboats and the ruin of a Norseman – the twin to Skipness Castle across the water on Kintyre. The buzz from my visit to Arran’s distillery expands amidst the light pinging off water and hill and the constant thrush of fresh air. The gravel beach crackles under foot. Boats leashed to neon bobs wait patiently to ply the seas. Lochranza town is little more than white houses scattered like a child’s forgotten jacks. There are people and dogs full of silence and long looks.
I can almost see the longboats with their bestial figureheads sliding into the bay, the white sails stuffed with wind and a deck bristling with hide- and mail-clad warriors. Read more...
The Isle of Arran’s Brodick Castle has borne witness to the ebb and flow of mankind for 15 centuries. That’s a pretty epic achievement for a little castle on a little island off the coast of a little country. I have a bit of history with the castle, too, though it only stretches back five years. Sarah and I visited it for the first time in 2006, and I remembered it as one of my favorite castles on that trip. When I returned to the stout, red castle in the woods across the bay from Brodick town, little had changed. After all, what’s five years in the context of 1,500?
It’s safe to say that the Brodick Castle of today wasn’t around in the fifth century when Gaels from Northern Island landed on Arran intent on expanding their kingdom of Dál Riata. Read more...
With a little luck, the drive through Arran’s mountainous northern half on the way to Lochranza might yield an eagle spotting or two. White-tailed eagles are known to cruise the currents sweeping over the bald hills and forested glens, and they’re also a key element of The Arran Malt’s brand image.
It’s a fitting symbol.
I recall noise a few years back about how The Arran Malt was “lackluster” and “not yet ready” for serious consideration. On my last trip to Scotland, I decided to spend some time on Arran and pop into the Isle of Arran Distillery to make up my own mind. What I found happily flew counter to all those stale rumblings. Let’s talk whisky. Read more...
by Keith Savage on September 30, 2011 · 5 comments
I chase ghosts down the sea road bordering the west of Arran. On this visit to the small isle I vowed to rectify a journey doomed to failure by low clouds and repellent rain five years earlier. Now, a cool wind peels off the sea and tears apart the clouds for the winsome Scottish sun. I trudge down a familiar dirt track as sheep dart away like a white sea parting. The moor is lush in its own way, and the essences of turned soil, damp salt, and green heath fill my mouth and sinuses. Jubilant winds roar across the open moorland. Still, somewhere a lamb mewls for its mother. After cresting a rise, a disused farmhouse marks the path to a series of standing stones. Alien worlds.
Red sandstone pillars spear the sky in unfathomable arrays. Read more...
by Keith Savage on September 28, 2011 · 2 comments
I walked into the stout, red stone building overlooking Brodick Bay and set down my bags with a thankful sigh. It had been a long day of travel involving countless drives, flights, and ferries, and I’d finally made it to my first stop: Brodick on the Isle of Arran. More specifically, I’d arrived at The Douglas Hotel, which would be my home for three nights thanks to arrangements from Visit Arran. Sorry, I meant the next two nights; delays on U.S. Airways shaved off a full day from my trip and I lost a night from my stay in Brodick.
I looked around the small, cozy lobby with its dark wood floor and thought about how The Douglas Hotel had just re-opened this season. Later I’d hear that the building had been an eyesore for a long time before this re-opening. Not so, now. Read more...
A hunter, oft-stubbled and bleary-eyed, driven by an insatiable hunger for exploration and experience - and perhaps a chance to thin the herd of caffeinated and alcoholic beverages. From the highlands and islands to Edinburgh, Glasgow, and the Borders, I explore Scotland with a pen in hand and a fire in the belly (which could be partly from the whisky). 
