It’s a brisk day off of Scotland’s island of Islay, our boat skipping over the greenish waves, woolly clouds clustering above. White-tailed eagles cut in and out of view, and the sun just keeps evading us. But as we pass red stags grazing on islets—that they’ve swum to from shore—and doughy harbour seal pups lazing on rocks, the quiet bay we land upon stills.
Here, our captain Gus Newman—an Islay man all his life—presents us with a bounty of scallops he went hand-diving for at 6 a.m. that morning. The sun decides to join as he begins scattering them across a hot grill brushed with chilli butter. He’s saved a few to crack open and feed us fresh, two ways. First: with just the salt water for seasoning, cut into pieces to swallow raw and quick, plump roe still attached. Second: the “Islay way,” with a very liberal dousing of Ardbeg whisky. A lunch of fat crab legs and lobster claws follows. With more “wee drams” of the Ardbeg stuff.
The smoky, peaty malt whisky of Islay soaks into island life, with its 10 distilleries and Fèis Ìle (a whisky-forward culture festival) held every year. Ardbeg Distillery—owned by The Glenmorangie Company since 1997, which is part of Moët Hennessy under LVMH—has been crafting its signature, smoky single malt for over 200 years, amassing a global cult following and a legion of pilgrims to Ardbeg every year. There were once 23 distinct distilleries on the island. Now there’s 10, and Ardbeg is assuredly its most famous.
Their latest venture? Ardbeg House, a luxury 12-room hotel that sits on the nib of Port Ellen, a quaint town on the Hebridean island just off Scotland’s west coast. Every day at 6.15 p.m. (in a nod to Ardbeg’s founding year, 1815), guests are welcomed to the hotel’s Islay Bar for whisky hour, to toast the day with Ardbeg’s small-batch, secret recipe “Badger Juice” that lingers like toffee. Over the course of my stay on Islay, I never miss the chance to sample these delectable wee drams, offering a trip through the House’s 500-plus selection.
Staying at Ardbeg House is an initiation into centuries-old traditions—and not just for whisky lovers. The history of the island and the creativity of its residents are, quite literally, woven into the hotel’s fabric. The distinctive Ardbeg “A” is ornately cast in iron and greets you as you enter. Designed in partnership with Russell Sage Studio, the individual, boisterously designed suites and rooms feature the work of more than 20 Scottish artists and makers. I stay in the Fèis room, inspired by the local traditions of music and song, with a bed made from a deconstructed piano. In the Monster room, a croc skin-like Fromental wallpaper (one of 24 bespoke prints) pays homage to the local mythical creature, the “Islaygator” (which was also immortalized in the Ardbeg Alligator whisky, a limited edition bottle from 2011), with a monstrous, emperor-sized four-poster bed swirled with metal serpents. In the Smoke room, there’s a leather headboard that looks like rows of peat, with a secret compartment concealing two miniature bottles of Ardbeg Ten. Thanks to Sage’s boundless design imagination and a dose of Scottish humor, it’s both sophisticated and unserious.
“We want to represent the community here on Islay,” says Sage of his design ethos, when we chat in the gilded, boldly printed private dining room, beneath a whisky-library-style sideboard of the distillery’s best bottles. “Just this morning, I bought a piece of art from a woman across the road that I want to put up in the lobby. This is just the beginning of something, and it will grow. You can come back and stay in a different room and discover something new and charming every time. I feel emotional about leaving, even now!”
Sage is a Central Saint Martins grad, who founded his own eponymous fashion label before turning his focus to vintage-inspired and exquisitely detailed interiors that can be found everywhere from The Savoy to the grand, art-filled Fife Arms—and, of course, LVMH’s Klimt-esque Glenmorangie House. Here at Ardbeg, the surreal designs are particularly delightful a few drams in.
“We can’t wait to fire up the smoker and grill,” Ellie Goss, director of hospitality, says of the handcrafted machine in the courtyard outside, which was made by distillery technician Daniel Brandson, and that will soon smoke barbecued seafood dishes for guests. “We want locals on Islay to really see Ardbeg House as part of their community—to drink, eat, have a getaway, and enjoy the heritage we all love and respect, and everything we have planned for it.” After my own visit, local residents will come in for a community weekend—a chance to explore and be merry in the revamped space.
The House’s Islay Bar (which stayed dutifully open during the hotel’s renovations) builds upon a beloved local watering hole, and features a grass-green marble bar top and custom boat-shaped chandelier. Every evening, we’re treated to local Scottish tunes on the fiddle and whistle to go with snacks and an Ardbeg twist on The Last Word cocktail, “The Word on the Pete.” In the 31-seat Signature restaurant, metal kelp sculptures line the walls and the room is centered around a grand, metal-scorched fire table with upcycled vintage chairs. The food is just as bold and bolshie: we eat more fat scallops slick with sea herbs and saffron-caviar butter sauce, a decadent lobster duet, a comforting Arbroath smoked haddock chowder, and brandy snap-studded sticky date pudding. A slow breakfast is taken here in the morning, with hulking smoked Scottish trout and poached eggs, and a hot bowl of porridge swirled with—what else?—cream and whisky. In the rooms, there’s a custom, handcrafted chocolate bar from Islay Cocoa, flecked with cardamom and lemon, named Fáilte: the Gaelic word for welcome.
“It’s true Ardbeggian immersion here,” says Caspar MacRae, Ardbeg’s president and CEO. “Our spirit of hospitality is indebted to the local people and the culture, appealing to all your senses. Whether a whisky lover or otherwise, you’ll leave a fan of Ardbeg and Islay.”
Diving deeper into Islay, my group and I explore the ancient peat bogs with our all-knowing guide Dougie MacTaggart. Piles of the dark matter that give whisky its smoky flavor punctuate the horizon. I attempt to do some peat cutting myself, using MacTaggart’s cow horn-handled tairsgear, passed through generations, to scoop up a wedge. Later, we head to Kildalton Church, a 13th-century ruin that holds one of the finest early Christian crosses in Scotland. The nearby Claggain Bay is a sandy beach, rugged and unspoilt, and a prime spot to stop for a sip of Ardbeg Kildalton, a limited number inspired by the sublime surroundings. One hazy early morning, we burrow into the forest hugging Kilnaughton Bay for yoga with Philippa McCallum. We end with meditation on the white sands, facing the Carraig Fhada lighthouse and the not-so-faraway Irish Mourne Mountains as the sun rises.
The jewel, however, is Ardbeg’s own distillery, where we meet the head of whisky creation, the charismatic and encyclopedic Bill Lumsden (who Beyoncé once called upon when she launched her own whisky brand). House guests can take private distillery tours at 4 p.m. daily, and it’s a rollicking affair through Ardbeg’s checkered history and cult status. We journey through vaulted rooms of whisky barrels and taste some distillery classics and experiments. One is the award-winning Seann Chreag, a biscuity, treacle-like whisky matured in bourbon casks. Another trial whisky is viscous and spicy, with a red berry kickback—Lumsden is confident it’ll go into production, By the end, I’m convinced to join the world-famous, 40,000 member-strong Ardbeg Committee to keep up with their exclusive bottlings.
I leave Ardbeg House after three days of drinking drams and increasingly stranger dreams of folkloric creatures within its wacky walls. A sign at the tiny Islay airport check-in is explicit: a maximum of seven bottles of whisky are allowed in your luggage. I make it through, happily clinking and rustling with Islay cocoa bars and the few mini bottles that I managed to scavenge from hiding places around Ardbeg. The Islay way.
