Scotland - Day 1 - Look at all the lonely scotch barrels.

We’ve been waiting to take a Scottish holiday and finally the time had arrived….via a 7:25am flight out of Heathrow to Aberdeen. However, we would have to wait a little longer since our flight was delayed by an hour and half. It was a perfect day for flying since the approach to Aberdeen presented a spectacular view of green countryside and the Highlands and Heather in the distance. The airport was empty and we breezed to the rental car facility where, once again, I was eager to take on the UK driving adventure. Beckie, as usual, had a whole plan worked out for our visit; we burst out of the rental facility gates on our way to find some Pictish Stones. The first stop was at a shell of a church about 15 minutes into the Aberdeen countryside. The Pictish stone dates back more than 2000 years and was located inside the church shell. Despite being exposed to the elements and a lot of relocating, the stone carvings were still very clear. The church and yard were located on a quiet hill overlooking a serene, subtle river valley. The sun lit the landscape like a painting; it was perfect and very fulfilling. We could’ve stayed there for hours but there was more to see.
Our next stop were some more Pictish Stones in a town we’ll just call the Niles, OH of Scotland. It was a small town and seemed very working class. We opted to stop for an early lunch in a local café where the drink of choice is IronBru. Let’s see, how to describe IronBru… imagine Tang irradiated with Americinium and packaged like Coors Light. EVERYONE in the café was drinking it. Needless to say, we did not try it because Beckie feared for the safety of her unborn children and I don’t drink liquids that would phosphoresce under UV light. The town had a Pictish stone in the middle of a suburban green space and could easily be missed. In the middle of modern tract-like housing there was a millenniums old stone observing the suburbanization of its holy site. We passed through this town with the intent to make our way to Ballater in the Highlands, but our enthusiasm and excitement had us wanting to chase every historical marker sign we saw along our drive. One in particular caught our attention: “The Maiden Stone.” We screeched off the A-road and careened down the B-road a few miles to a tall stone vertically perched on the side of the road. The carvings on it were magnificent; it was only us and a few cows hanging at the site. Oh, and a well hidden geocache. We declared no more stopping because we had some distance to drive but we weren’t sure how long it would take. Well, that was abandoned once we entered Malt Whiskey territory. Instead, we decided to make every attempt to get ourselves to a whiskey tour. Afterall, this is what Jameson hates the most…whiskey made by the Scots (the proper way). Success was met at Cardhu and we managed to get a spot on the last tour of the day. Cardhu is the single malt supplier to Johnny Walker and one of very many distilleries owned by Diageo. Initially, Cardu was illegally distilled and founded in 1824 by Helen Cumming and sold to Johnny Walker and Sons in 1893. With some samples consumed and a bottle of the Reserve purchased we finally made the push to Ballater. Driving through the Highlands was beyond imagination. The weather was perfect, the heather abundant, and the locale dream like. Despite modern advances the area seemed preserved in a cleanliness only known prior to the industrial revolution. I’m sure that’s not the case but purity overwhelmed us. Maybe it was the smell of the fresh rain, the pines, and the purple heather sea but it was truly magical. We passed by the Glenlivet Distillery and quite magnificently they were malting barley. The steam rising from the malting barn filled the entire valley with the smell of scotch. Beyond that a drive full of climbs and brake-torturing declines brought us to Ballater and our B&B: where a completely different experience awaited us.

Scotland