Update: There's a much longer blog regarding the making of whiskey, plus many pictures at my primary blog. Permit me this moment of laziness to not convert all those pictures and addresses to SG standard format.
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It's a bit of a trek here. From Edinburgh, it's a mere hour to Glasgow, then the next bus loops all the way up to Inveraray before dropping back down to the ferry terminal at Kennacraig. A couple hours on the ferry sees you the rest of the way to Port Ellen or Port Askaig.
The Isle of Arran, ferry between Kennacraig and Islay
This might have been a bit of a problem for me. My hostel was on the west leg of the Island, some 20 kilometers up and down again. But before I'd made it outside the city limits of Port Ellen - and that's to say about three blocks - a car had pulled up beside and offered me a ride. They were only headed a few miles up the way, not even to Bowmore, to drop their son off (he'd returned on the same bus from Glasgow as I did and told them to stop for me) but hearing that I was headed all the way to Port Charlotte, they did the full trip without a second thought. Even offered me an empty house to stay in until they heard that my room was already paid for.
The hostel is lovely too. Old wood, and doors balanced so that they slow down right before closing and never slam. I took a walk from here up the way to the local campground - the one place in Port Charlotte to rent wifi, but was stopped along the way by folk music pouring out of the pub under the Port Charlotte Hotel. There was a three man band inside on guitar, squeezebox, and fiddle, and some sixty people packed into the two small rooms of the bar to hear them.
Old Fences for old neighbors, south of Port Charlotte
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It's a bit of a trek here. From Edinburgh, it's a mere hour to Glasgow, then the next bus loops all the way up to Inveraray before dropping back down to the ferry terminal at Kennacraig. A couple hours on the ferry sees you the rest of the way to Port Ellen or Port Askaig.
The Isle of Arran, ferry between Kennacraig and Islay
This might have been a bit of a problem for me. My hostel was on the west leg of the Island, some 20 kilometers up and down again. But before I'd made it outside the city limits of Port Ellen - and that's to say about three blocks - a car had pulled up beside and offered me a ride. They were only headed a few miles up the way, not even to Bowmore, to drop their son off (he'd returned on the same bus from Glasgow as I did and told them to stop for me) but hearing that I was headed all the way to Port Charlotte, they did the full trip without a second thought. Even offered me an empty house to stay in until they heard that my room was already paid for.
The hostel is lovely too. Old wood, and doors balanced so that they slow down right before closing and never slam. I took a walk from here up the way to the local campground - the one place in Port Charlotte to rent wifi, but was stopped along the way by folk music pouring out of the pub under the Port Charlotte Hotel. There was a three man band inside on guitar, squeezebox, and fiddle, and some sixty people packed into the two small rooms of the bar to hear them.
Old Fences for old neighbors, south of Port Charlotte
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I'll dribble my month into July to round it out proper.