Thursday, 3 November 2011

Leaving Kirkwall, part II

The final day in Kirkwall found me in a state of acute anxiety (don't ask me why, travel does it to me... I don't like change and travel forces me face the inherent liminality of life).

The Highland Park tour was very interesting, and helped take my mind of things that were making my heart hand stomach clench and my breath come short.

I really liked the malting room floor. And it smelled nice, like molassasy horse feed.

They used to have distillery cats, but some sort of safety/hygiene law came in a few years ago that means they can't get new cats, so they have to trap the mice that come in for the grain.

I kind of missed photos of a few of the steps - there was drying the malted barley and the washback vats. We weren't allowed to take photos in with the stills because there might have been an almighty Kaboom.

I never did find out why so many buildings in Orkney had this cut away bit.

A nice picture of an oak tree.

The party mould. This black stuff (low light, bit blurry) only grows where alcohol is stored to mature. It grows on the 'angels' share (the alcohol that evaporates during storage [about 1% a year]). That mould knows how to have a good time.

I got my photo taken with the family my brother lives next door to.

And, just to prove I am not a giantess, one with my brother for scale.

Saying goodbye to the brother at the ferry terminal.

To start with, I cursed my decision to catch the ferry to Aberdeen. I lay in the bed and found it impossible to sleep. Not because I was sea sick, but because I was terrified I was going to go flying off the top bunk because I couldn't find the safety rail they told you to put up. Finally I managed to wedge myself at the end of the bed and along the wall and felt secure enough to sleep with the surging up and down. I actually quite enjoyed the repetitive feeling of weightlessness at the peak of the wave followed by the lurch down into the trough.

No comments: