Oban

We're in Oban (OH bin) in the western highlands of Scotland. Our room is in a home perched high on a hill above town with a sweeping view of the harbor.


Our plan was to take a tour of the Hebrides but couldn't get tickets, so instead we took advantage of indoor activities--it's a blustery, cold day. First, we took a well-guided tour of the Oban Distillery. Here's Jo in the gathering area for the tour.


Our guide, Gavin, took us through the entire process of making Scotch whiskey, from the introduction of malt...


... through a series that Pat pretty much lost track of: lots of tanks and evaporators and huge barrels.









Pat took the above photo then saw the sign. He offered to delete it but Gavin said it was fine.








 
At the beginning, middle, and end of the hour-long tour, Gavin distributed a wee dram of whiskey to members of the group. A few of us declined; we got a box with a small amount of whiskey to take with us. Jo happily participated no matter the hour, noon.


At the end of the tour we each received a shot glass. Then, as with every such tour, we were ushered into a gift shop. Jo and her money are soon parted.

An intriguing note: nearly all Scotch whiskey gets most of its flavor from the barrels in which it is aged, and those barrels are made of American oak. 


Next we visited the Oban War and Peace Museum. This takes up two rooms and consists primarily of war memorabilia. Nothing special but not a bad way to spend an hour or so.

We strolled around town for a while and did some shopping for grandchildren gifts.




Finally, we went out for dinner at The View, which oddly enough has a view ...



... and saw this incredible mullet. The guy must have been growing it since the 80s.





When we got here yesterday we walked from the bus stop to our place and climbed a heart attack of a set of stairs that never seemed to end.  This is what it looks like from the top



It's June but feels like March. The temperatures today were in the high 40s and the wind was strong enough to churn up whitecaps in the harbor.

Tomorrow, Stirling.



























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