Scotland is a country that far too many
people regard as merely a part of something else. The worst offenders are the
ones who somehow think of it as a part of England. This is a bit like saying
that France is part of Spain, or that chicken is part of Turkey – it’s not just
wrong, it’s so wrong that anyone who says such a thing deserves a tender
Glasgow kiss. Others may regard Scotland as a part of Britain or the United
Kingdom, both of which are true – at least until the next time Scotland votes
for independence – but it would be a mistake to assume that this means that
Scotland is not a proud nation with a long and turbulent history of its own, and
a culture, mindset and dialect that differ distinctly from other
English-speaking peoples that live south of various borders.
Scotland was for many centuries completely
independent – even the Romans gave up trying to conquer this remote country – and
fought many wars with their arch enemy, England, before somewhat unexpectedly
entering into a political union with the very same enemy about 300 years ago.
Before that time, the royal crown of the two had been united through the
English adoption of the Scottish Stuart king, James VI, who then became better
known south of the border as James the FIRST. These little oddities persist to
this day – the current Queen is commonly referred to as Elizabeth the Second,
but since the first one was never queen in Scotland, many Scots will insist on
referring to her as Elizabeth the First.
There are many stereotypes associated with
Scotland, from anything to do with men wearing heavy woolen skirts known as kilts (and not much underneath) to
barren, windswept mountains, rugged coastlines, heavy whisky drinking and caber
tossing, the latter being a sport that involves throwing an entire tree trunk as straight
(distance apparently does not count) as you can, making sure it flips at least
once so that it does not land on your own toes. What isn’t currently a stereotype is Scotland
as a fantastic place for beer lovers, so it was with curiosity and anticipation
that my lovely wife and I boarded the flight that would take us to Aberdeen one
warm and sunny July morning.
Scotland - green, remote, scenic - and sometimes even sunny! |
Arriving in Aberdeen was a little bit of a
shock to the system. Central Europe had been basking in a sunny heatwave for a couple
of weeks, so when our plane finally emerged from the cloud over Scotland only
to find that the distance between the rain-soaked ground and the cloud was
about 5 metres, we knew that the shorts and sunglasses we had carefully packed
at the top of the backpack would perhaps not be urgently needed. What I had
forgotten to pack was, of course, a rain jacket – a schoolboy error if ever
there was one. First stop, then, was the shopping centre conveniently located
next to the bus station where they had a fantastic selection of wet weather
gear at exorbitant prices. Apparently, demand is high.
Our mood was not at all affected, though,
because I had already from the airport bus spotted one of Scotland’s main
tourist attractions – the original and first BrewDog pub. For those of you
unfamiliar with BrewDog, here’s a little bit of background: In 2007, two
industrious gentlemen (and their dog) decided to bet everything they had
(including the dog) on the beer revolution, which was starting to take off at
that point (unlike the dog). However, instead of doing what most other budding
brewers in Britain did at the time, namely brew traditional beers only in
smaller batches, they tossed the rulebook (but not the dog) out the window and
started the process of redefining what beer is about. Borrowing some ideas from
the US craft beer scene, they quickly started brewing beers that pushed the
boundaries of taste and decency, and they also came up with some interesting and
adventurous concepts in marketing. Fast forward 8 years or so, and BrewDog is
the most successful brewer of craft beer in the UK, with more than 20 own-brand
bars, significant export and a turnover in excess of 30 million pounds. Does
this mean that they’ve become one of the big bad boys? We set off to find out.
One of Scotland's finest tourist attractions |
We rolled into the BrewDog bar around 2pm
and found the place pleasantly full of people and beer. They had 8 or so of
their own brews on tap, and 5 or 6 guest brews, all of which looked really interesting.
Beware, though, that if you’re a die-hard cask beer fan and the first thing you
look for when entering a pub is the number of hand pumps, you will be
disappointed – all beers are dispensed pressured. Although I personally like
cask beer as well, I have nothing against the slightly colder and fizzier beers
dispensed with the help of some CO2, so I went ahead and bought the beer
sampler, which included 1/3 of a pint of 4 beers of your choice. These are then
placed on your sampler tray in order of alcoholic strength, typically between
5% for the weaker ones up to perhaps 12% for the humdingers. You can also buy a
tiny sample of the whopping 41% beer they made for the latest installment in a
tit-for-tat beer strength contest with the German brewery Schorschbräu, which
was given the less than politically correct name “Sink the Bismarck”. Their beers
vary in quality, but since the scale goes from “very good” to “amazing” this
wasn’t much of an issue. To top it off, the pub has board games instead of TVs
and therefore a lovely atmosphere, so it was with heavy hearts that we had to
leave to catch the ferry to Orkney.
This sampler was worth a trip to Aberdeen |
Orkney is a group of islands situated
immediately to the north of the Scottish mainland. It is Norwegian territory,
having been “settled” by the Vikings in their own unique and charming way a
thousand or so years ago and then pawned to Scotland by some retarded Danish
king in 1468 for 50,000 Florins, so I felt very much at home. The locals are
very friendly, the scenery fantastic, the summer temperature marginally above
freezing, and the rain less horizontal than in winter, so there really was
nothing to stop us from having a great time. However, this fantastic situation
improved dramatically when we entered the first pub: I discovered that Orkney has
not just one, as I had anticipated, but TWO great breweries, thereby
unexpectedly doubling the amount of drinking I had to do. However, as the old
saying goes: it can’t be a coincidence that there are 24 hours in a day and 24
beers in four six-packs, so I grabbed a stash of cash and got down to business.
The beers were simply great. The most famous one is called “Skull Splitter”,
apparently named after some Norwegian Viking gentleman who acquired this
nickname from his tendency to use his axe to settle arguments conclusively, and
this was a barley wine that certainly hit the mark at the top of my head.
However, the outstanding beer is one called “Dark Island”, a wonderful dark
concoction of roasted barley, coffee notes and the mystery of what goes on in the
dark winter evenings up on these remote islands. All in all, the two breweries
had around 20 different beers and every single one we tried was very good. The
final bonus: some beers were available both bottled and from the hand pump,
allowing the lucky drinkers to choose between the fridge-cold and slightly
fizzier version and the cellar temperature, smoother version.
This is Stromness in Orkney. They had beer there too. |
The biggest disappointment in Scotland was the
fact that the Scots themselves don’t seem to like their own beer very much.
After the holiday I attended a conference in Glasgow, and at every social event
there was beer on offer… from Italy, of all places. Now there are good beers in
Italy as well, but they don’t send those to Scotland, no Sir, they send
mediocre ones that are, if my memory serves me right, called Craponi and
Crapetti. These are then presented to the thirsty hordes at truly astronomical
prices. The main problem, I think, is that Scots nowadays are so polite that
they smile stiffly and force this stuff down instead of doing the sensible
thing, namely to start a riot – and thus, this travesty is allowed to continue,
at least until the majority of the population has read this blog post.
Well, it’s time to come up with some kind
of conclusion before I start rambling on in ridiculously long sentences that
simply go on and on without actually containing any sort of sensible
information that you may or may not find moderately interesting or
entertaining. My advice is unambiguous: go to Scotland and check this country
out for yourself – unless your idea of a holiday is to lie at the beach, slowly
letting the sun cook your own flesh whilst sipping sickly sweet drinks with
tiny umbrellas in them, I think you’ll have a great time. There’s also that
other famous drink, in Scotland referred to as whisky (or “a wee dram”), which
is also worth sampling – it is, after all, just distilled beer (without hops)
that’s been allowed to slumber in a cask for a dozen years or so. And, oh,
lots of historic sights, great scenery, good (if perhaps a bit wet) mountain
walks, friendly people and fantastic pubs. Did I mention that you can also find
very good beer? Good! As the Viking probably used to say: Skull!