Highland Hopscotch

Inverness, Fortrose and the Isle of Skye

Beer Travels February 9, 2007
Written by MartinT

Montreal, CANADA -

Inverness, Fortrose, and the Isle of Skye

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Inverness was grey and frigid upon arrival, but luckily we had morphed into weatherproof beings a few days earlier. Walking along the river Ness being a surefire way to build appetite and assure a throbbing thirst, we soon wound up at Morgan’s Bar, on Academy Street. Three ales were hand-pulled that day, two of which being some of Scotland’s most distributed casks: Caledonian Deuchars IPA and Caledonian 80 Schilling. This rather generic selection in no way indicates that the beers at Morgan’s weren’t worth the stop, as both were perfectly tendered and fit our quality pub meals lovingly. The third real ale on offer, Sinclair’s White Christmas, was as satisfying as the two Caleys with its orangey and earthy hops set on a juicy caramel backbone. Not a memorable lunch this was, but it remained an affordable and appreciable belly-filler.

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Before entering Morgan’s, we had peeked into Blackfriars, right across the street, to select our evening’s watering hole. See for yourselves why we chose to forgo our quest for a better place:

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The warm wooden touch, the open yet well-divided layout, and the stunning selection of cask ales made it a no-brainer. As if this wasn’t pleasant enough, most of the beers we had were beyond well-conditioned; they were delicious. Bath’s rum-flavored porter, called Festivity, was a lot more than a novelty with its complex array of molasses, chocolate, and vanilla sweetness in a rich yet drinkable body. Bateman’s Rosey Nosey impressed with its nutty depths balanced out by leafy hop sagacity. Cairngorm’s Santa’s Sledgehammer was a smashing pint of scintillating hop leaves growing within a diverse maltiness which elaborated on candied fruitiness, caramel sweetness, and nutty subtleties. And the crowning jewel of this jolly round was a cloudy scrumpy, one of those naturally-fermented apple ciders, served straight from the cask of course. Weston’s Old Rosie dazzled with its intrinsic wilderness and cleansing tartness which outstandingly offset the sweet apple juice. Somehow Inverness’s frost had vanished upon exiting Blackfriars.

<U>Fortrose</u>

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Up Maggie’s Hill, looking down on the villages of Fortrose and Rosemarkie, these sheep herds staring at us had a strangely appeasing power. Down on Chanonry Point, trying to look up through voracious coastal gusts to see where we were walking, the grins of fearless linksmen had a playful effect on us.

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We were on the peninsula of Black Isle, just north of Inverness, to get some fresh Highland air of course, but also to spend an evening at a house which seemed to possess everything to charm us. Indeed, it seems that The Anderson, a cozy 19th century inn, could not disappoint the craft beer traveller, or those in search of a complete gastronomical experience for that matter. Just under 100 Belgian bottles are offered, most of which being of phenomenal quality, such as Rocheforts, St.Bernardus, Malheur Brut Reserve, Westmalles, Achels, Belgian Guinness, Grottenbier, Rodenbach Grand Cru, Orval, etc.; 2 Belgian taps were also available that evening, one featuring Maredsous 8. 3 everchanging UK cask ales are also offered, as well as a cask cider. More taps that evening offered keg beers from Scotland to the Czech Republic. All of these beers are served in two distinct bars which both belong to The Anderson. One is accessible from the street, and features a mostly grungy atmosphere, perfect for virile discussions and friendly encounters. The other is accessible from within the hotel, and is simply called Whisky Bar. This room is most attractive with its narrow layout, many filled chalkboards, disparate wooden furniture, and an amazing bottle collection laid out behind the bar. It definitely feels like most beer geek’s dream basement bar.

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If, for some reason, this beer isn’t enough to please you, The Anderson also offers close to 200 single malts, with some being from long-gone distilleries. Jim Anderson, a Philadelphia native (he’s American, what a scam!!), is obviously quite the beer and single malt geek, and his choice selections testify to his passion. As if we needed more to be firmly hooked, his wife’s inspired fusion cuisine is offered in both the quaint dining room and the Whisky Bar. The sweet potato and chestnut soup I had foretold the succulence of the goose with fig and madeira gravy which followed. The eclectic Scottish cheese plate wonderfully segued the poached pears and figs with spiced wine and Grasmere gingerbread. Anne Anderson is undoubtedly an accomplished chef; a culinary artist, she often changes the menu as various quality ingredients are made available to her. Her creations were an absolute delight to pair with the chosen Belgian beers, UK cask ales, ciders, single malts, and other fiery libations. After chatting away with Jim and trying to collect our reeling wits, we only had to walk up a few stairs to reach our warm, antique bed. Those blinding winter gales were so elegantly put to rest by The Anderson.

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<U>Isle of Skye</u>

The following morning, we had a ticket for a 2-wagon train to Skye Bridge, through remote Highland pastures. Dashing morning moonlight shone within the pinkish blue skies which oversaw lost lochs and snow-capped hills on the horizon. Barely a few signs of civilization in sight for most of the trip, the sparse vegetation and distant horizons could easily be imagined as an uninhabited planet until a wild buck’s antlers were raised into view. We had no problems believing this route’s claim to be one of Britain’s most scenic railways. Eventually, a few sheep herds were reached, usually running away from the oncoming mini-train into towering hills and along streaming waterfalls, and a few towns appeared, though drowsily.

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After disembarking at Kyle of Lochalsh, we were now able to head for the Isle of Skye. Landscapes here are even vaster, more rugged, and more desolate than we had seen so far. “Dramatic” would only begin to describe the true essence of this island’s vistas. As you can imagine, this leg of the trip was not to focus on beer per say, even though the Isle of Skye does have two breweries: Isle of Skye Brewery, a successful microbrewery in Uig, and Cuillin Brewery, a seasonal brewpub which operates from Sligachan Hotel, a few miles from Skye’s main town, Portree. Cuillin Brewery is closed every winter until the beginning of March, so we would not be able to taste their wares.

Once settled in Portree (definitely the best winter base on the island, unless you plan to stay in your room every night), we set off for the Trotternish Peninsula, where even more spectacular landscapes shook the imagination. Sparse settlements and Highland cattle were encountered, and of course a few rogue sheep felt like blocking the one-lane road once in a while.

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Arrived in Uig, a ferry town on the western side of the Trotternish Peninsula, we quickly found the Pub at the Pier, which purportedly had a few cask ales to offer. Rather surprising for this wintry northern outpost, isn’t it? Reality hit when we realized that they weren’t serving any real ales that day. They probably don’t sell many in winter time anyway. Only macro taps were being offered in this dingy tavern. Moreover, the pub’s ownership had again changed hands recently and Hebridean Brewery (on the Isle of Lewis) no longer sells its ales here. The only cask ales sold at the Pub at the Pier, in season, obviously, are Isle of Skye’s. This brewery happens to be a few feet from the pub, but if the dead village was any indication, the brewery was going to be closed as well. We went anyway. The street-front gift shop was closed for winter. The brewery out back appeared lifeless too, save for a few cars and one invitingly open door. The deep silence worried us. After entering the brewery and standing there for a while, we finally saw someone, and that person happened to be able to open up shop and sell us a few bottles of Am Basteir, an unfiltered version of their potent Cuillin Beast wee heavy, and Oyster Ale, their Christmas offering. A fortuitous encounter with a friendly brewery fellow is always pleasant.

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The village momentarily sprung back to life when the ferry docked, but its fleeting energy wasn’t enough to make us want to stay. We headed back to Portree to sneak into a few pubs to notice that one beer was being hand pulled everywhere: Isle of Skye’s Red Cuillin. Highly drinkable, its distinguished caramel fruitiness and comforting mouthfeel was to entertain us for a few nights to come. We did find a different cask ale in Portree, Macnab’s Inn’s house ale, brewed by, you guessed it, Isle of Skye Brewery. A scrumptious pint it was, even more so for most football fans who were watching Dunfermline upset Rangers on the pub’s telly. The rumour mill suggests that this house ale is a blend of Red Cuillin and Black Cuillin. After having a few of each, I wouldn’t be surprised that this was more than a rumour. Still, a very satisfying moment was spent in MacNab’s sofa area with this supposed house ale.

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And so it was that our Scottish beery expeditions had to end. We did stop at Sligachan, to wander at the foot of the gloomy Black Cuillin, even though the brewpub was closed and the bus driver enquired about our apparent madness. We did spend some time around the majestically photogenic Eilean Donan castle, once we left the Isle of Skye. We did stand amazed along the winding roads around Ben Nevis. And this is what we’ll remember most about our first venture into Scotland. These Highlands are not only heavenly, they are, appropriately, uplifting.

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The sweet potato and chestnut soup I had foretold the succulence of the goose with fig and madeira gravy which followed. The eclectic Scottish cheese plate wonderfully segued the poached pears and figs with spiced wine and Grasmere gingerbread.

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