We arrived at the Highland games, the arena surrounded by blooming heather. The floral aroma intermingled with beer-simmered grilled sausages and venison burgers. The robust palate delivered sticky barbecue ribs as well as steak and ale pie.

Diluted, the opening march with the drum major leading the massed pipe band into the arena was truly spectacular as he demonstrated his mace flourish skills. At the end of the performance, we saw him taking a large gulp from his leather hipflask. After 13 years in a bourbon hogshead, we transferred this whisky into a 1st fill barrique from a privately owned small bodega, now in its ninth generation, that focuses exclusively on the Pedro Ximénez grape.