Tucked away in the salt-scrubbed town of Campbeltown, once the pulsing heart of Scotland’s whisky trade, Glen Scotia is one of the few noble survivors of a bygone age. The town itself, which once boasted over thirty distilleries, now holds a mere trio. Among them, Glen Scotia endures with a kind of stoic modesty, quietly producing a whisky shaped as much by sea air and solitude as by barley and wood.

Founded in 1832, the distillery has weathered closures, recessions, and long spells of near-abandonment. Ownership changed hands frequently over the past century, and more than once the stills lay dormant while the buildings awaited their next chapter. Yet through all this, Glen Scotia managed to persist, often thanks to the resolve of just a handful of staff. In recent years, it has experienced a quiet revival, its whiskies earning renewed attention for their depth and individuality.

The production process favours tradition. Copper pot stills with steeply descending lyne arms produce a weighty, slightly oily new make. Fermentations are long, and cask types vary, with bourbon, sherry, and refill American oak all playing their part. Maturation often takes place in low, earth-floored dunnage warehouses where the coastal air leaves its mark. The resulting spirit captures something distinctly Campbeltown: briny and firm, with flavours of dark fruit, mineral smoke, and old leather softened by a touch of citrus and sea salt. Glen Scotia does not shout. It simply speaks with the quiet confidence of a whisky that has earned its place.