So, we awoke our second morning in Aberlour with a plan to do some heritage research at the Moray [County] Family History Centre in Elgin, home of the genealogical ancestry library for Rothes and Dufftown.  Brother Eric had tapped into their online digital resources for much of his research, but we hoped with guidance from the brilliant archivist there we could uncover something new.  Uhh, unfortunately, not so much.  As we learned, 200-year old physical records can be elusively fickle, especially with wars, natural disasters, and the erosion of time to chip away the documentation.  What we found on microfiche offered nothing new.  Though the experience of looking at the actual baptismal record of my great x3 grandfather from 225 years ago was quite thrilling.

And then it was time for Gordon Castle.

As we'd come to discover, there are actually twelve castles throughout Scotland affiliated with Clan Gordon, seven of those in the Highlands.  You can read about the dozen here, and the map below shows the location of those closest to us on our journey.  The yellow star is Aberlour. 

Leaving Elgin, our plan was to visit the only one of the bunch actually bearing the clan name, Gordon Castle, 11 miles east and outside the town of Fochabers.

The Gordon Estate is vast, much of it, however, quite private and off limits to tourists, even those with the family name.  Their walled garden is one of the oldest and largest kitchen gardens in all of Britain, and features a reservations-swamped cafe serving a wide range of locally sourced meals.  We tried to book a table, but were graciously denied.  They also have a gin distillery on site (not that Gordon’s Gin, of London Dry fame, but their own Gordon Castle gin, and its quasi-popular plum variety), and they also provide private lodging accommodations and a wedding venue.  You can learn all about the Estate and its offerings here.

We loved our hour’s stroll through the walled gardens, a bit overwhelmed by the number of crops growing within.  Covering just shy of eight acres and built over two centuries ago, the gardens grow more than 350 varieties of fruits, vegetables, herbs, and cut flowers.  The landscape design is breath-taking.  We noticed several dozen caretakers at work, and chatted with a few, learning that most are volunteers, and many retired from traditional jobs.  Generational families, decades-long in maintaining the gardens.

Leaving the gardens - and trusting my GPS to bail me out, if necessary - we motored into the countryside, narrow-laning our way hither and yon until eventually, and to the profound astonishment of my lovely co-pilot - Ta da!! - I found it: the castle’s delivery access road.  No barricades, no prohibitory signage.  Just a quick fly-by the entrance to the castle where Nancy took the money shot.

Next came our scheduled bar reservation at the Macallan Distillery.

Okay, you need to understand, you can’t just stop by the Macallan, not even to buy a bottle of whisky in their gift shop “Boutique”.  As soon as you step into their cavernous lobby, you’ll be approached and led to the receptionist for reservation confirmation, whether it be for shopping, tasting, touring, dining, or even sipping a cocktail in the Macallan bar, the purpose of our own booking.  Now, don’t take too seriously my suggested tone of elitism and snobbishness.  There is all that, no doubt, but it's delivered with such welcoming and professional charm, you don’t even care.  We were dressed in our roots research/castle-hunting outfits (khaki shorts and Bajavaria t-shirts) and they treated us like royalty.  And all it took was making a reservation, I guess.

We arrived 30 minutes early and rolled into the site’s parking area, immediately gobsmacked by a grazing mini-herd of Highland Coos right there next to the lot.  Remember the Cozy Coo coffee shop from the last post?  We’d been hearing about this world’s oldest cattle breed for a week, but had yet to see any, let alone close enough to touch.  If we wanted to.  Which we didn’t.  They’re awesome beasts, with the long reddish hair – that too a record: longest of any cattle breed – and those curtain bangs!  Thanks to Gordon Bain Photography for that iconic photo of those bovine locks.  And check out that impressive hornage.

The building itself is fascinating (and architecturally award-winning), constructed below ground level, then topped with a grassy 40,000 square foot meadow above.  You have no idea what you’re about to experience as you approach the biohybrid structure.  Massive doors open to a flowing lobby dwarfed by the undulating timber gridshell ceiling above.  To the right is the spacious Boutique gift shop, selling everything Macallan, including an endless array of whiskies, some priced into five figures.  And to the left is the Hall of Macallan History with its 60-foot tall glass wall comprised of 840 whisky bottles.  The visually stunning hallway timelines with images and artifacts the distillery’s 200-year history.  

And both of these experiences were thumbs-upped for us to explore before our scheduled imbibery. 

As we observed a trio of Middle Eastern guys in the Boutique directing their personal shopper towards that one - why, of course, sir - and that one, too - most certainly, sir - and that whole set over there - a wonderful choice, sir . . . we definitely felt out of our league. Yet we were treated no differently than anyone else.  

The bottle on left showcases a collaboration with Bentley Motors, the vessel "seamlessly fusing traditional craftsmanship with cutting-edge precision engineering, pushing the art of the possible - where purpose meets innovation, craftsmanship, and beauty."  On the right, that one's The Reach single malt Scotch whisky, drawn from a single cask in which it had matured for the past 81 years.  To afford either one of those beauties, I'd have to dip way way deep into my retirement portfolio.

And the Hall of History . . . my goodness, wow.  I could have spent a couple of hours there.  Fascinating photos, enlightening anecdotes, and hundreds of iconic bottles of single malt whisky, such as the tenth of 12 bottles of 60-year old, bottled in 1926, and the labels illustrated by Italian painter Valerio Adami.  Number 5 of the dozen sold at auction in 2018 for $1.25 million USD.  Or the 2022’s collaboration with James Bond producers Michael G. Wilcom and Barbara Broccoli on a 60th Anniversary Release, with six decorated whisky tubes, one for each decade of film.

When our appointed time arrived, we ascended a sweeping staircase to the expansive circular Distillery Bar, overlooking the Highland landscape through an acre of windows, and studied the enormous distilling room with all its gleaming brass pipes and vessels.  And above us towered that stunning ceiling, its undulating surface comprised of more than 350,000 unique, triangulated timber components.  An impressive reflection of the product crafted within its walls.

Matthew served us, and easily coaxed us into their featured Old Fashioned (for me): The Macallan Sherry Oak 12 Years Old with cask syrup, and a splash Oloroso sherry.  He explained to us that the team of bartenders will break down the expired casks into splinters, which are soaked and aged in sugar water to make the syrup.  And Nancy partook in their Cobbler, a mix of The Macallan Double Cask 12 Years Old with rhubarb and Amontillado dry sherry.  Perfect drinks, both.  Beautiful, balanced, and immensely satisfying.

And we weren’t quite done with our indulging.

Really with no other options, we dined that night again at the Mash Tun, this time greeted as regulars.  Kinda sorta.  Charcuterie and cheese lead to the Venison Bourguignon Pie, a side salad of mustard-dressed greens and heirloom tomatoes, and Speyside whisky ice cream and berries for dessert.  As we departed, we spotted once again our serendipitous Montana via South Africa travel mates and wished them safe travels, hugs all around.

We spent our final morning in the heart of Speyside with caffeine at the last blogpost-mentioned coffee shop Fresh!, (and formally met the underfoot rugrat - Louie), then drove back to the Cardhu Distillery for our probably-too-early tour and whisky tasting.  86 proof before 11am?  Hey, we’re in Scotland!

Our new friend Alison was totally on her game with an enlightening introduction to the earliest woman-founded distillery in Scotland (officially co-established with her husband in 1824 after a dozen years moonshining, then passed along to their daughter-in-law, Elizabeth Cummings, who gained the moniker, The Queen of Whisky).  Our host and guide shared their colorful history, ripe with tales of illegal stills, smuggling, and clever thwartings of revenuer raids by the hoisting of a red flag on the back side of the house to warn the local bootleggers.  That red flag symbol is featured on the Cardhu official brand.  Anyone who has tasted Johnny Walker has experienced a Cardhu whisky, as 70% of their production becomes the primary ingredient in the Johnny Walker Blends.

As we wandered through the distillery’s intricate network of vats and pots and pipes and gauges, we were encouraged to explore with all our senses this fascinating meld of organic cookery within its manufactured network of wood, copper, and glass.  We especially appreciated the sequential step-through: massive full lauter mash tun, to 36,800-liter fermentation washback (like the one above with Alison and Nancy), and then to the copper wash and spirit stills for the distillation into whisky.

At the close of the morning’s tour, the group of us were offered five unlabelled tasters and the written descriptions of six different Cardhu whiskies, and the challenge to match them up (sans the one red herring).  We failed miserably, only identifying one spirit correctly.  The winners, correctly matching all five samples, were a young Italian couple precursing the Oasis Live concert in Edinburgh with a 2-week RV tour throughout the Highlands.  Remarkably, this was their first time drinking whisky!

We eased through the narrow lanes of Huntly, our GPS app guiding us to the Simpson Building at The Gordon Schools, established by Elizabeth, the Duchess of Gordon in 1839 as a memorial to her husband George, the fifth and final Duke. We drove past a bronze rendition of the Clan Gordon crest stag’s head and its motto Bydand, meaning “steadfast”, and mirror-scraped our way through a central narrow arch and along a one-lane roadway lined with Scots pine and oak, recently wind-stripped of needles, leaves, and dozens of branches by Storm Floris and her 100mph gusts.  As we approached the castle, expecting the trappings of a popular tourist attraction, we found instead portable chain-link fencing panels and yellow caution tape.  Apparently, the castle’s overseers had yet to clean up the debris and damage caused by the storm, and for the safety of all, had cordoned off all access.

So, the best we could do was walk half the perimeter, admire the inscription on the upper floor exterior, reading: George Gordon First Marquis of Huntlie and Henriette Stewart Marquesse of Huntlie with the date 1602, the completion year of the castle’s final remodeling.  And in the hope of catching a glimpse of the castle's infamous frontispiece, carved also in 1602, we pushed the caution tape boundaries a bit and slipped through the shrubbery around the right side, but alas, to no avail.  The bottom two photos are not my own, but display well this tallest and most renowned frontispiece in all of the United Kingdom.

And despite the unfortunate outcome, we left Huntly excited to have even come close.  The majesty of the place is still clearly evident, the history embedded in the stones, in the craft of the carvings. Standing there in the memory of its former grandeur, imagining.  Pretty cool, I’ve got to say.

And from there to Aberdeen.

We’ll be in touch.