Liquid Gold

A pilgrimage to the spiritual home of Speyside whisky

It had rained the night before, rendering the Highlands wet and slushy. We could have quit, and called it a day, but decided to press on. We climbed aboard the 8-wheel Agrocat – a cross between a tank and a lunar buggy – and braced ourselves. The first phase was relatively simple, a gentle climb over the rolling Scottish Highlands. Then, suddenly, the ascent got steep, and the wind blew hard. A sharp chill hit my face, rendering it numb. The driver, sensing my discomfort, reached for a huge set of gloves, and handed them over. I gratefully accepted. An enormous, wild hare stared straight at me from the brambles, then bolted past in a flash. The Agrocat ploughed on like a stealthy beast, overwhelming the tall grass in its path. A few twists and turns later, the climb eased off, and then suddenly, we were at the summit.