365 Days of Solitude: April 2013

Monday, April 22, 2013

Whisky, Whisky, Whisky

We pick up in Islay, Scotland and try to find the hostel that never came to be. Quick! What's the song reference?

Last week I made my first excursion into "the real world" since arriving on Iona in mid-March. Normally a third visit to Oban would not be cause for any particular celebration, but his time around I was going to meet Luke who had just arrived from Amsterdam. Europe was a bit of a stopover for him because his final destination for this trip was China to rock climb. But to complete his training in preparation for this time there, he first had to come meet up with his bro in Scotland. The itinerary was left up to my discretion with the sole requirement being that we get to visit any of the Tallisker, Lagavulin, or Laphroaig distilleries. Because Lagavulin and Laphroaig are both located on the Isle of Islay (pronounced "I-la") this seemed like the best destination. Islay is home to six other distilleries besides these two most famous ones so there wouldn't be a lack of chances to imbibe in the "water of life" (as the Scots call their beloved whisky).

Like anything good that Luke and I do together, or just anything we do together, convenience and comfort were not the two highest priorities. But because of the precedents of the Alaskan hunting/kayaking venture, the hungover slog to the top of the Sandias via bicycle the day after Luke's 21st birthday, and bike epic from Albuquerque to Santa Fe ski area, I knew that even if it wasn't the most physically comfortable journey, it was going to be a legendary time and there was going to be a good story to tell at its conclusion.

Due to a lack of hostel accommodation on Islay, Luke and I borrowed a tent from John that was reportedly last used sometime in 1985. Since it had been clear, pristine spring weather for the three preceding weeks I didn't see much importance in setting up the rain fly along with the tent, but luckily common sense prevailed on Luke's part. Lo and behold, in the middle of the night I woke up to the sound of rain, which would continue for the next two days straight, and knew that I would be hearing about it in the morning. You would think with me having spent close to a month in Scotland and Luke being from Alaska that we would make sure that all of the gear we brought with us was waterproof, but sadly this was not the case. Despite his foresight on the tent fly, he hadn't brought any waterproof shoes along with him and I had forgotten to pack a waterproof coat. You live and you learn....and you get wet.

We spent the full day Thursday trekking and hitch-hiking around Islay to different distilleries - first it was Caol Isla where we started our day with a tasting of four different ages of their whisky, topped by a taste of a special edition, twenty-four year old, sherry cask aged dram. Some say leave the best for last, but this was definitely a case of start with the best! Not that our next two stops of Lagavulin and Laphroaig were a disappointment by any means, they just weren't the same as the Caol Ila special. That being said, Lagavulin had the coolest distillery out of the lot and because we had visited Caol Ila as well, we were able to get a free tour. During the tour we had the chance to taste the wort (the stage prior to distillation in whisky making, which up to that point mirrors the production of beer) which tasted exactly how you think a peat-smoke beer would!

It was something of a mad dash first back to Oban, then to Iona, on Friday and Saturday. But after multiple hours on ferries and buses we made it back to the hostel. The weather continued to be inclement but breaks in the downpour provided opportunities for me to show Luke around Iona. This evolved into Luke leading me around Iona in search of rocks to climb - who would have thought that Iona could be a destination for bouldering?

Heeeeeeeeey!

My favorite distillery.

Second favorite.

Ah nothing like a whisky tasting at 10:00AM!

The castle ruins on the left provided the campground for the evening.

And the Lagavulin provided the campfire!

Looking out from the Dunyvaig Castle ruins.

"I see.........whisky!"

Leaving Port Ellen the next morning, Oban bound.

Luke's plan for Oban's first skyscraper.

The architect himself!

Back on Iona, scoping out the rocks.

Nothing like climbing with the threat of falling into frigid water to help you stay focused.

He assured me, that going shirtless was absolutely necessary.

Wait for it....

Next bouldering problem (no water beneath this one).

Rocking it out. On a hard climb. Notice Luke's stoney face.

Keeping the climbing shoes dry.

My climbing feat of the day - crossing this fence. And yes, I did manage to jump it without injury, or as I like to say, "pulling a Ben Lande and breaking my elbows".

Ummm, Anne Marie, Freya - you guys might want to move....

Awwwww....

Bro-biwon Kenobi and his hairy sidekick.

The storm continues!

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Island Life

To celebrate the new season and a week of great island weather I decided to update the blog's theme to something with a bit more cheer. Hard to believe it, but two weeks has passed since I've been back to Iona! This week was the first that truly felt like spring. The wind was an absolute, dead calm, and only the slightest bit of chill lingered in the air. From the living room window, a grassland sea gave way to a steel-blue ocean, with the Hebrides in sharp relief against the horizon - a snapshot of paradise if I've ever seen one!

Tomorrow is the first of my two days off for the week. When I first arrived, I had grand aspirations for getting out and exploring during these free days, but these plans gave way to other activities, chiefly cooking, which I have to say has been a welcome substitute. Hiking, exploring, and the like still get accomplished, just at a steadier pace and with a more contented belly! Tomorrow's plans have curtailed accordingly to allow for plenty of kitchen time, while still allowing for the likelihood of getting out for a walk in the afternoon (the chances of this are increasing as the weather continues to improve). All other cooking nights on Iona were left behind this past Sunday when John and Rachel had Eva, Freya, myself, as well as two new arrivals, Katya (an Iona hostel alumnus) and her friend Anne Marie (who will be taking over for Eva next week), as his guests for dinner where we enjoyed bacon and garlic wrapped venison, with "roasties" (I think this is what he called the roast vegetables), cranberry sauce, salad and everyone's favorite course - wine! This was all finished up with warm apple pie and ice cream topped by a healthy dollop of decadent double cream. And let's not forget the post-dessert whisky - this is Scotland after all! By all accounts - a wonderful evening!

Work at the hostel has not been without its fair share of amusing run-ins with people. The one that comes immediately to mind occurred this past weekend when a guest named Ellie asked me where I was from. I gave my standard response of "I'm originally from New Mexico, but now I live in Colorado." Surprisingly, she was surprised by my answer, so I asked why. "Oh well you speak with a weird mix of Scottish and American accents, so I wasn't sure." While she walked off, I stood there nonplussed. I went to my coworker, Freya, and asked if she thought I was speaking with an unusual accent - according to her no. Later that day, I ran into Ellie and her friend Mandy and the subject of my "peculiar" accent came up again. "Where were you before traveling to Scotland?" "Ireland," I responded. "Oh that explains it!" (cue second nonplussed expression for the day). What made this whole occurrence even more bizarre is that they were English and American respectively so it's not like they would be unfamiliar with different types of english accents. I wanted to get to the bottom of this because the interactions were disconcerting (and slightly annoying, it's not everyday that you are interrogated for the way you speak). To settle the case of of the misplaced accent I appealed to John's opinion which was along the lines of "You sound American to me!" And so it was settled - apparently too much sea air can make some people a little bamboozled (too bad blogging isn't Scrabble because I would be killing it with the use of that word ;) ).

Check out John's blog too! http://ionahostel.wordpress.com

Easter Egg of Destiny.

My bothy lies over the ocean, my bothy lies over the sea...

Home sweet home, inside the bothy.

First thing in the morning.

Just hanging around the croft.

Everyone knows the best concrete walls have multiple holes and are held up exclusively by rotting wooden frames.

John doing the honors....

Let the remodel begin!

New frame going up.

Sunset on the first night.

Post-workday walk.

Looks more like tropical waters than something you would expect to see in the north Atlantic.

This is the summer home of a former nurse who now lives in Oban for most of the year. She lived in the crofthouse that John now owns during WWII, but now is 95 years old and blind. This doesn't stop her from spending her summers in her caravan on Iona, sipping pink gin (not exactly sure what this is), and inviting neighbors over for drinks and conversation in the summer evenings. I hope to meet this local legend before departing!