#would of been nice if he gave them more distinctive features and styles amongst each other

[baelontargaryen]

It wouldn’t of hurt him to put an extra paragraph or two about them in her chapters—or even the odd sentence about them, given that Missandei is introduced after them and across two books he’s able to flesh her out more than he offered the Dothraki.

It’s easy to simply slip in “Irri and Jhiqui loved to race each other in the afternoon, laughing freely under the sun” or “Rakharo had begun to enjoy the sea, and Dany had caught wind of his small journeys on the row boats at the docks” or“Irri had taken to the scrolls with Missandei’s help, while Jhiqui had bought a bow and arrow from the markets, as the days passed her aim had improved with the Unsullied’s help” or idk something in GRRM’s style but mainly that it wouldn’t be that hard for him to just scribble a few down about them every now and again.

And the Bloodriders/Kingsguard parallel was wasted because Daenerys does drop a few comparisons between them early that GRRM seems to have just pushed aside

Every khal had his bloodriders. At first Dany had thought of them as a kind of Dothraki Kingsguard, sworn to protect their lord, but it went further than that. Jhiqui had taught her that a bloodrider was more than a guard; they were the khal’s brothers, his shadows, his fiercest friends. “Blood of my blood,” Drogo called them, and so it was; they shared a single life. — AGOT, Daenerys IV

—

When her son sat the Iron Throne, she would see that he had bloodriders of his own to protect him against treachery in his Kingsguard. — AGOT, Daenerys IV

It genuinely makes me sad to think about the dothraki being so poorly developed. I wish Dany and her bloodriders had an actual bond, they're sworn to her life and death and they're all close in age too. We should've seen them grow close. Irri and Jhiqui should be developed characters by now with personalities and inner-lives. They spend more time with Dany than anyone. The potential for a found-family trope was there all along George! And then the turmoil when Dany finds out she has real family across the sea, waiting for her. The struggle between two families, two cultures that she is connected to. Irri and Jhiqui telling Dany to stay in Essos, she already has a family and people here, and Dany going West in search of her biological family. She has bloodriders but no blood relatives until she learns about Aegon. I don't know, I just feel like grrm wasted the dothraki characters, severely dropped the ball on their world building, and this has hurt Dany's overall story. I wonder if he wanted to her feel lonely to help motivate her move to Westeros but she can feel lonely while still having connections with the characters that spend the most time with her.

[bestieverharry]

A/N: This is going to be a multi-part series, not sure how long yet! I had some recent inspiration that made me want to write.

Summary: While dealing with a difficult time in her life, Y/N is introduced to Harry unexpectedly and he ends up helping her see life in ways she never thought she would see again.

TW: Deals with death, anxiety, and depression topics

MASTERLIST

Groaning loudly, Y/N rolled over in her bed and blindly felt around for her buzzing phone in the darkness of her bedroom. Swiping the screen to answer and bringing the phone to her ear, she let out a hoarse “hello” to whoever was on the other line.

���Are you still in bed? It’s almost four, hun.” Y/N’s best friend Molly was on the other end, most likely being the same person that had called nearly a dozen times before Y/N decided to actually answer the phone. 

“No, I’m not in bed. Must be coming down with something.” Y/N made no effort to change her voice, knowing that her friend of nearly seven years could see right through her lies. She heard Molly sigh in worry.

“Well Sarah is having a bunch of people over to her’s tonight and I think it would be great for you to come..” Sarah was a newer friend of Molly’s Y/N had never met. Y/N could already feel her head begin to throb as she quickly thought about all of the excuses she has used recently.

“I don’t know, Molly. I’ve got a lot on at the minute. I-”

“No excuses, this time Y/N. You need to get out of that flat of your’s, it’s not healthy to be cooped up in here all of the time.” 

Y/N reached over the flicked on the lamp on her bedside table, shutting her eyes as light illuminated the room for the first time in a long time. Slowly sitting up in her bed, every joint and muscle in her body ached.

“I-I don’t know, Molly. It’s just a lot right now.” Y/N ran a hand through her matted, dirty hair as she felt anxiety began to fill her body once again.

“Let’s give it a go, yeah? You say the word and we can leave, no questions asked. I’ll pick you up at eight.” Molly quickly ended the call before Y/N could mutter another excuse. 

Sighing loudly, she looked up at the ceiling before scanning the room in front of her. Empty plates and glasses, dirty clothes, and clean ones that have not been touched in a very long time glittered the entire room, mimicking what most of her flat looked like at the moment. 

It had been four months since it happened and Y/N still felt this heavyweight in her chest everywhere she went and every time she breathed. That heavyweight feeling has consumed her entirely, making it hard for her to eat, sleep, clean and certainly socialise. 

Those who cared for her have been patient as she turned into a ghost - bailing on plans, leaving her phone off for days, and completely cutting off communication with the outside world apart from Molly who is always relentless and also has a key to her flat.

Molly was all Y/N really had at the moment. With her parents halfway around the world and unable to visit as much as she would like, the feelings of loneliness and being alienated have taken over her entire life, aspects she is partly to blame for.

Rising from her bed, Y/N drew back the curtains and stared as the sun began to set over the horizon, winter not giving much daylight to enjoy these days. Carefully stepping over empty soda cans and various pairs of shoes, Y/N made her way to the shower, determined to at least look remotely presentable for this evening (although she didn’t plan on staying long).

After scrubbing her skin raw with a loofa and scalding hot water, Y/N put on a simple pair of black jeans, a sweater, and a pair of Vans.

Searching on her bedroom floor for her jacket, her fingertips came in contact with fabric she instantly recognized and immediately caused her heart to ache. Picking up the familiar blue and green checked shirt, Y/N brought the material to her nose and slowly inhaled, allowing the distinct scent to fill her senses. Sitting on the edge of her unmade bed, she clutched onto the fabric as if it was going to disappear at any moment, her eyes welling up with tears as memories clouded her mind.

With the shirt still close to her chest, Y/N leaned back in her bed, finding herself paralyzed by all of the memories that whirled around in her brain. Some were bad, some were good, but overall, that feeling of both helplessness and immobility began to take over her body at that moment. So Y/N laid there as time ticked away from seconds to minutes to hours, clutching the shirt as tears rolled down her cheeks until she heard Molly’s familiar knock at the door.

“Ah, Molly it’s so nice to see you. And you must be, Y/N. I’ve heard wonderful things.” Sarah warmly greeted Y/N and Molly as they walked into Sarah’s flat. Y/N gave her a small smile as she took in all of the people that were mingling in the flat, her anxiety starting to become too much.

Scanning the room, she didn’t recognize any familiar faces much to her relief, not wanting to spend the next hour engaging in small talk about where the fuck she has been the last few months. 

“Drinks are just in the kitchen through there and I can introduce you to everyone later.” Sarah said before she scattered off and disappeared into the next room. Y/N took a deep breath and her and Molly hung up their coats and made their way into the kitchen.

Molly was quick to make the two of them some gin and tonics as Y/N avoided eye contact with everyone around them. 

“It’s going to be fine, Y/N. Just say the word and we can go, promise.” Molly said as she handed the mixed drink to Y/N, ushering her into the living room where most of the people were. Molly was quick to engage with a familiar face as the two of them sat down on one of the blush pink loveseats. 

Molly introduced Y/N to a guy named Adam before the two of them began a conversation Y/N was completely zoned out from. It felt weird being in a room full of people that knew nothing about Y/N or what had transpired the last few months. It was crazy how easy it was for Y/N to just put on a brave face and act like nothing was wrong. 

Scanning the room, everyone was drinking and chatting with each other, looking happy amongst the holiday decorations and Christmas tree that stood in the corner. This used to be Y/N’s favorite time of the year, but now all she wanted was it to be over.

“Ah, Y/N loves that venue. We go to gigs there all of the time.” Y/N zoned back into the conversation, giving a small smile and acting like she knew what they were talking about.

“Oh really? Well if you both want to come to the gig, let us know and we can guest list you. The whole thing is kind of secret though so don’t spread the word about it.” Adam spoke smoothly, giving absolutely no hint as to what the conversation was even about so all Y/N did was smile at Adam and nod her head in agreement with Molly.

“That would be amazing, we’ve never seen you guys play live before so I am sure it will be an incredible show.” Molly spoke on behalf of the two of them, Y/N quickly parted her lips to object to the invitation but thought it might come off rude so she just nodded again in agreement. 

As the two of them continued to chat, Y/N’s eyes began to scan the room once more. Sarah was just opposite of them, sitting on another crowd, deep in conversation with a few girls she had never seen before. Everyone was laughing and drinking with one another, looking happy and content. Y/N wondered if she looked weird sitting there and not talking to anyone, portraying the sad and pathetic mess she felt like. 

Quickly polishing off her gin and tonic, Y/N rose from the couch and excused herself, needing a few minutes of quiet. Making her way through the relatively crowded flat, she walked down a long hallway and opened up the door that stood at the end of it. Quickly peeking her head in, she saw it was an empty bedroom and breathed a small sigh of relief.

Shutting the door behind her, she plopped down on the end of the bed, burying her head in her hands in the dimly lit room. Her body still ached and she wanted nothing more than to just crawl back into her head. Socializing and being around people was something she used to love so why was she having such a hard time with it now? She lived for this kind of stuff, just hanging around with friends and having a few drinks while chatting shit about drama and things that didn’t really matter.

Over the past few months, Y/N was really able to see who her true friends are. As she fell off the map and lost contact with people, she found that most of her friends stopped reaching out and she couldn’t really blame them. Molly was really the only one that has stuck around and she was so thankful for her.

As she was deep in her thoughts, Y/N suddenly heard the door open causing her to quickly lift her face up from her hands. She watched as someone emerged from the en-suite bathroom she hadn’t noticed when she walked into the room. Her cheeks turned pink from embarrassment, knowing she probably looked so pathetic sitting there with her head in her hands.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” Y/N spoke quickly, moving to get up from the bed before she was stopped.

“No worries, I just needed to get out of there for a minute.” He spoke as he pointed towards the living room where everyone was currently. Squinting her eyes in the dim light of the bedroom, the light from the bathroom illuminating his silhouette, Y/N could just make out the tiny features on his face which caused her cheeks to go even redder. 

“I’m Harry.” He spoke, reaching his ring-clad hand for Y/N to shake. Hesitantly, she shook it as she tried to gather why the fuck Harry Styles would be at this party. She wasn’t too familiar with his music, but she would be an idiot to not know who he was. 

“I’m Y/N.” She spoke softly as Harry took a seat in the chair across from her, her eyes instantly drifting to his tattooed arms and technicoloured painted fingernails. They sat in silence for a few awkward moments, Y/N trying to wrap her brain around what was happening. 

She can remember Molly mentioning his name once or two recently, but she must have been too zoned out at the time to remember what she was talking about.

“How do you know, Sarah?” He asked, trying hard to fill the empty room and the silence that filled it. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, Y/N cleared her throat.

“I actually just met her. I am here with my friend Molly.”

“Oh I know, Molly. She’s really cool. Have you known her long?” Y/N could feel her eyebrows fume in confusion, why was he engaging in a conversation with her?

“I-umm, we’ve been best friends for years.” Y/N watched as he leaned against the door frame, a curious look on his face as Y/N began to pick at the skin around her fingernails out of nervous habit.

“Oh, I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around before then, Molly is always around when we are in town. Do you work in music as well?” Harry asked, raising the glass that rested in his hand up to his lips as his intense stare burned into Y/N’s skin.

“Uh-yeah. W-work is actually why I’ve been away, I just got back the other day.” Clearing her throat uncomfortably, Y/N rose from her spot on the bed and tried to give Harry a reassuring smile as she walked towards the door. 

“Oh from where? Anywhere good?” Harry asked semi-eagerly, keen on keeping the conversation going for whatever reason. Y/N could feel her face turn a deeper red as she continued to dig a hole in the lie she had created. 

“You know, just kind of everywhere. I better get back out there, but it was um-nice to meet you.” Y/N stammered out, still not really registering that she had met Harry Styles and he actually wanted to talk to her. 

Y/N was out the door before she had a chance to hear his reply or before he had the chance to stop her with another question. She quickly walked back to where Molly sat, tapping her on her shoulder, and giving her the “look” that she wanted to leave. Although Molly can be pushy sometimes, she always honors her word and when she said they could leave at any point, she meant it.

Molly nodded back to Y/N as she turned back to Adam, mumbling some excuse for the two of them and saying that she will see him the following weekend before taking Y/N’s hand. As they grabbed their coats from the hallway, Y/N looked up and locked eyes with Harry. She hadn’t noticed how green they were before. They each exchanged small smiles with one another from across the room before Molly and she made their quick escape out of the flat. 

“Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?” Molly asked as the two of them continued down the winding stairs to the street outside. A pang of guilt hit Y/N’s body, she knew that Molly probably wanted to stay and felt bad for dragging her friend away for something so minuscule. 

“No, I-I just didn’t want to be there anymore. I’m sorry, if you want to go back up that’s totally okay. I can grab the tube by myself, really.”

Shaking her head, Molly let out a light-hearted chuckle as she locked arms with Y/N and the two of them began their journey to the tube station.

“Don’t be silly. I’ve got your back always and thank you for trying tonight. Now, let’s get some greasy takeaway and get you home.”

Back in the flat, Harry felt himself staring off into the drink he clutched in his hand, the conversations going on around him in the kitchen turning into sounds of buzzing in his ear.

She had such a sad look in her eyes, but why?

Harry thought to himself as he replayed Y/N’s face over and over again in his head. She seemed shy, reserved, but mostly sad. That is what made Harry want to speak with her, to help get her thoughts off of whatever was going on in her head even though she probably thought the conversation was a weird gesture.

Clearing his thought and shaking his thoughts away, he looked back up at Mitch and Sarah who were leaning against the counter across from them, Mitch’s arm around Sarah.

“I am so surprised Y/N showed up tonight, I wasn’t expecting it at all.” Sarah said casually, happiness in her voice that she was finally able to meet the mystery friend Molly had been talking about.

“Why weren’t you expecting it?” Harry asked subtly, wanting to get as much information out of Sarah as possible about who Y/N was. 

“Oh you know, just with everything that has happened with her, I know it’s been really hard. Molly said Y/N hasn’t left her flat much of the past few months.” Sarah’s brows were fumed in concern as Harry looked at her with a blank face, having no idea what she was talking about.

“Y/N said she had been away with work the past few months when I talked to her.” 

Both Sarah and Mitch looked at each other the moment Harry spoke, a clear red flag from his close friends that he had said something wrong. Mitch quickly grabbed his drink off the counter and left the kitchen, clearly wanting nothing to do with the conversation anymore.

“Oh, I thought you knew?” Sarah asked cautiously, trying to not omit anything she didn’t have to.

“Know what?” Harry asked, making it as obvious as possible that he had no idea what she was talking about.

Sighing deeply and turning around so she was now leaning against the counter next to Harry, Sarah peered around the kitchen to make sure that no one around was listening to them.

“Y/N hasn’t been away with work. She found her fiance dead a few months ago.”

[shemakesmusic-uk]

INTERVIEW: HAIKU SALUT

Haiku Salut, the acclaimed instrumental trio from the Derbyshire Dales, release their third album There Is No Elsewhere today via PRAH Recordings.  

Haiku Salut are a dream-pop-post-folk-neo-everything group which consists of multi-instrumentalists Gemma Barkerwood, Sophie Barkerwood, and Louise Croft. Between them, Haiku Salut play accordion, piano, glockenspiel, trumpet, guitar, ukulele, drums, and melodica. Their music also features electronic elements, which they refer to as “loopery and laptopery”.

Influenced by the evocative film soundtracks of Yann Tiersen and Benoît Charest, the genre-melting electronica of early Múm, and the impressionistic writing of Haruki Murakami, the band released their debut album Tricolore in 2013, to critical acclaim. They later wrote about the experience in their debut book, Japanese Poems Steal Brains, a fully illustrated collection of haikus, which told the story of the band to date. Haiku Salut’s second album, Etch And Etch Deep, was released in July 2015, to similar acclaim.

This year’s release, There Is No Elsewhere, is Haiku Salut’s first album for neo-classical and electronica label PRAH Recordings and sees the trio continue their distinctive re-imagining of dreampop and rural electronica.

We were lucky enough to have a chat with band member Gemma Bakerwood all about There Is No Elsewhere amongst a few other things. Read it below.

Hello! You've just released your third album There Is No Elsewhere. What can you tell us about the record?

"We’ve spent three years making this album. When we began writing we were working with ideas of existing on the periphery, occupying your space and celebrating community. There is an overarching thread of belonging and what it means to belong and solidarity that weaves through the album. We wanted to write a party album that addressed the notion of living according to the predefined cultural landscape (and defying it)."

You've collaborated on tracks on the LP with Glastonbury Brass. How did that come about?

"We were really keen to work with a brass band, particularly as this album’s central themes are about pulling together and celebrating community. What better way to that than with a brass band? A literal example of coming together to create something bigger than the sum of its parts. We had initially hoped to use a band local to our area but when we found out our friend’s dad played the tuba in Glastonbury Brass and that they were happy to get on board we couldn’t pass up that opportunity. We took a mid-winter trip to Somerset to record with them which was an incredibly humbling experience. To hear our songs being played back at us by championship musicians was something else. There was such a warmth of feeling and hope and community."

How does There Is No Elsewhere compare to your previous two releases, Tricolore and Etch And Etch Deep? How has your sound and songwriting evolved?

"I think this album is a lot more cohesive that the previous ones. We had a real vision of what we wanted this album to be about and I hope that comes across. We have always written in the same way, we write fragments of songs together and separately which we then patchwork together. We try not to write with playing live in mind to remove any restrictions on what instrumentation we include. This is usually how someone suddenly ends up with the arduous task of having to learn a trombone."

It has been said that this album sees you finally finding your place, both musically and politically.

"We wrote the album at a time of political uncertainty and helplessness and the ideas we had were inevitably permeated by the news and political climate. It is hard to avoid the sense that these are particularly terrible days and I think it’s natural to become confused about the outcomes or reasons for pursuing creative ventures. You feel the need to make a big gesture, to make large statements and pursue instant changes, yet you feel small and insignificant. You’re making electronica in a village in Derbyshire whilst people are fleeing their homes and being treated barbarically by their country and our own. It all began to seem so very menial and privileged. But it was this sense of helplessness that encouraged us to advocate a sense of what we believe in and what we can do about it. It is an album about occupying your space, being proud of what you believe in and who you are. It’s about making small life changes, making better decisions, writing better songs, having better conversations, knowing that these can lay foundations for change. It’s about finding who you are and not being dictated to about what you should be. It’s about celebrating others. It’s about making changes for a better future and the importance of rejoicing and celebrating each other and our communities."

The cover of the album features original artwork by the painter Geoff Diego Litherland. What was the reasoning behind choosing that particular artwork?

"We’ve admired Geoff’s work for some time and feel very honoured to have him on board! The piece we have used is an oil painting called ‘A Field In England’. I think his style of painting fits really nicely with our music often fusing the organic and inorganic, the bleak and the beautiful. This piece has become very important to us and very much helped shape the album’s expression. The portal, the warning and symbolic meaning behind the octagon all gave a further significance to the album. The octagon has a symbolic meaning of infinity and transition, which reinforces the significance of the endless ‘now’ and the responsibility we have for the ‘here’. We should say that the music, the album title and the artwork provide a triforce of meaning. All work together equally to make the whole. If you take one element away the coupling left take on another meaning altogether."

You're going to be taking your celebrated lamp show on tour again later this year in support of the new release. How did the idea of a using lamps in your live performance come about?

"I can’t remember how we came up with the idea for the lamp show, we liked the idea of experimenting across media platforms to create a sense of space and emotion for the audience. The lamp show was intended to create a haunted living room feel. Our good pal and long-term collaborator Robin Newman came on-board to help us to develop the idea. Lamp shows are our favourites, there’s so much planning and effort that goes into pulling them together but we always get lots of great feedback. There are still some of the original lamps in the team, but we have seen A LOT of lamps meet a very ugly demise. What a way to go though eh!"

You also recently did a collaborative piece with the Robot Orchestra which was performed at the Great Exhibition of The North 2018 earlier this month and featured self-performing instruments. Intriguing! Tell us a bit more about how that happened.

"When we were approached by Brighter Sound to take part in The Hexagon Project we had already begun experimenting with the idea of turning the electronic back into analogue. We use field recordings in our music, taking these sounds and mangling and manipulating them into rhythms and beats. We had begun thinking about ways in which we could turn that on its head and make wonky and glitchy beats play out on objects using motors. We wanted to stretch the process, go full circle, use electronic impulses to trigger organic instruments and remove the boundaries of electronic and analogue experience so began experimenting with various MIDI triggered motors and solenoids along with Arduino and Ableton’s Max For Live. We spent some time writing a piece of music that would really showcase the machines, in the final performance they took centre stage whilst we operated organic instruments playing static repetitive loops which we chose to mirror with automation. We also got to work with a young programmer Dan whose skills far exceed our own in this area. He had built and programmed a robotic glockenspiel that was definitely the showstopper!"

Which of the new songs are you most looking forward to performing live?

"I’m really enjoying playing ‘The More And Moreness’ at the minute; it’s a real fun one to play and Louise has been learning the trombone since the last album in our attempt at creating our very own mini brass band! We’ll also be playing some songs that we haven’t played live before which is always equally exciting and terrifying."

What's your favourite thing about performing live and being on stage?

"Haiku is unlike any other band I’ve been in, there’s a lot of preparation and sculpting that goes in before songs are ready to be performed live. The amount of practice and choreography that goes in to get everything running smoothly is ridiculous! When we’re finally able to get out there and perform them in front of an audience it’s magical!"

When on tour, what do the three of you do in your down time between shows?

"There is a tour manual. With an extensive list of sightseeing opportunities. We used to plan activities en-route (an escape room here…, nipping to Stratford-upon-Avon for a jazz brunch there…) but sometimes nothing beats just a good ol’ wander."

And which has been your favourite city/venue so far?

"I always love playing in Glasgow. We’re at The Great Eastern this year, which I’m particularly excited about. The venue moonlights as a music hall but spends it days as a day centre promoting social inclusion and helping reduce loneliness. The venue hire money goes towards supporting the day centre. What a bloody glorious idea!"

Finally, what does the future hold for Haiku Salut?

"After tour we will be back to working on the score for The Ada Project, a play about Ada Lovelace. We’ll also be developing some electronic triggers that will be integrated into the set design to allow the performers to interact with the props to make music. We’re also planning to develop some of the ideas from the recent Robot Orchestra Collaboration and see what we can come up with."

There Is No Elsewhere is available now via PRAH Recordings.

[greatdrams]

Adam, The Whisky Pilgrim, visits some Tasmania Distilleries

I visit my fair share of distilleries. 52 in the last 18 months, if you're counting, which I reckon is reasonable going given I've had to take holiday for every one of them! One feature of these trips has been early starts. I've blearily awoken everywhere from wigwams to the front seat of cars; from Islay hotels to Invernesian sofas.

City centre of Sydney, however, is a new one.

This trip came about by chance. My little sister is studying in Australia this year; not fully sure why, as she normally studies Sciences at Nottingham... In any case, the upshot was that my parents and I found ourselves planning our first ever jaunt Down Under. I'd say that it was more about seeing Vicky than it was about getting a couple of weeks of sunshine and adventure, but the year I lived unvisited in Inverness and Dundee rather speaks for itself...

You've probably heard that Australia is in on the whisky scene by now. If you haven't, then where were you two weeks ago when I wrote my Starward review? That particular bottle came from Melbourne, but the place that gets really raved about by folks in the know, and by Soho hipsters who like to sound on-trend, is Tasmania.

So I dug my heels in when we were planning our trip. I wanted to get out to Tasmania for a few days, get amongst the whisky scene, and see what was being done and by whom. My mother, who was planning the trip as a General might a campaign, insisted that one day was all that could be spared.

Which led, a fortnight ago, to my alarm clock squawking at me in a Sydney hotel and to an early flight taking us for a rather intense day trip.

Such necessary brevity meant that I had to be selective on my tours, and that I couldn't roam too far from Hobart airport. I'd have loved to have seen what Peter Bignell does with his home-grown rye, but it would have taken too long. I'm intrigued by the notion of the stainless steel stills at Hellyer's Road - how do they get sulphur out of the spirit? - but again, not an option.

Eventually I made my choices, so shortly after touching down in beautiful Tasmania (whose scenery is like a fusion of Scotland and the Mediterranean) I found myself at the front gate of The Tasmania Distillery, home to Sullivan's Cove.

Of the 22 distilleries on Tasmania (yes, 22!) Sullivan's Cove is probably the most internationally famous. (I know it's The Tasmania Distillery, but I'm going to call it Sullivan's Cove from this point to avoid confusion.) There would have been some dispute about this until recently, but in 2014 one of their French Oak Single Casks was awarded World's Best Single Malt by the World Whiskies Awards.

Since then Tasmanian whisky in general, and Sullivan's Cove in particular, has enjoyed rather a moment in the sun. Names like Lark and Overeem have started appearing on the shelves of London bars for the hipsters to try once and then go back to Japanese. Demand has exceeded supply to the degree that three casks-worth of Overeem can sell out in 20 minutes, with a huge list of disappointed customers failing to get their hands on it.

And that supply is not a big one. Sullivan's Cove, I was told, is the second biggest distillery on the island, behind Hellyer's Road. Last year they filled about 18,000 bottles.

18,000! I can't begin to stress how small a quantity that is. But to give you some idea, Highland Park's recent 'Fire' edition, described as 'limited and exclusive' was 28,000 bottles. Kilchoman, who by Scottish standards are tiny, make comfortably over 100,000 litres of spirit per year.

The natural upshot of this size:demand ratio is some pretty ambitious pricing. Don't expect much of a Tasmanian whisky in the UK for under £100 a throw - and a few go to well beyond that. A bottle from that French Oak Single Cask range - not the award-winning barrel, naturally - retails somewhere in the region of £300.

If you've read my posts for Great Drams, or on their former high horse, The Whisky Pilgrim, you'll know my thoughts concerning price and value. I understand why it happens, of course, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I've certainly never spent £300 on a bottle of whisky; couldn't afford to if I wanted to. And of course, a distillery charging those sort of prices has a very great deal to deliver. So I was fascinated to learn whether it did.

Funnily enough, the distillery I was initially put in mind of on arrival was the last Scottish place I visited - Wolfburn up in Thurso. Much like Wolfburn, Sullivan's Cove operate out of a small industrial unit. But in Sullivan's Cove's case literally everything is under the same roof, and in the same room - including all their maturing stock. If you've ever been to a Scottish distillery before, that alone should give you a sense of scale.

The number one law of The Whisky Pilgrim reads "thou shalt arrive unnecessarily early," and a different hemisphere wasn't going to change that. So forty minutes before tour began I was given a glass of water and directed to a seat in their charming visitor centre. It's a rather nice place to sit; I don't think I've ever seen such a wide variety of chairs!  Everything from chesterfields to 'doctor's waiting room-style', via what I can only describe as a pseudo-regency-period throne. Anyway, no prizes for guessing where I sat. It was gold for God's sake.

Talking of prizes, Sullivan's Cove have adorned the wall with theirs, and there are rather a lot. Certainly a good number for a range that effectively numbers three. Besides the French Oak they've an American Oak Single Cask, and their 'Double Cask', which works out about 70:30 in American Oak's favour.

Something worth noting about the French Oak incidentally - in Scotland it would probably be labelled "Port Cask", as that was what the barrels previously held. Actually, being legal and proper, they held nothing of the kind. They held an Australian Fortified Wine modelled on Tawny Port, and as a wine man by trade, that distinction matters to me. Bit clunky for a label, I admit, but based on my subsequent trip to Lark I can confirm that the PDO laws of the Douro Valley mean the square root of Jack to Australian whisky makers. Oh well. Probably no harm done!

My guide for the day was Ryan, an incredibly friendly, knowledgeable and enthusiastic young bloke. In fact everyone around the distillery seemed pretty young - ok, 'look who's talking' I guess, but you get my drift. Pretty much everyone was around my demographic, and the only place I've been before like that was Eden Mill, near St Andrews. Which, incidentally, is another small-scale operation cut from similar cloth to Sullivan's Cove.

Idiosyncrasy number one: Sullivan's Cove has one still. Not one pair of stills; not one wash and one spirit still: one still. Their wash comes from a local brewery, Cascade, who also used to do Lark's, and it goes through the still, comes out as low wines, then through the same still it goes again. Said still has a capacity of 2,500 litres. For some frame of reference, Glenfiddich describe theirs as 'unusually small' - and by Scottish standards they are - but they still stand at 9,500 litres capacity.

From a vantage point on a balcony, Ryan was able to point me towards the entire operation; still, casks, bottling line and the vats containing the gin that Sullivan's Cove also make. (Using the same still. That still earns its keep.) For some reason I was surprised to learn that each whisky bottled by Sullivan's Cove is over 10 years old. When a cask hits its decade, the contents are tasted by everyone at the distillery to assess where the whisky inside is at. Since the French Oak and American Oak expressions are both Single Casks, they come with their own sticker detailing distillation and bottling dates. In the case of the Double Cask (which usually comprises four different casks) they use the dates of the youngest constituent. The Double Cask I tasted was just shy of 16 years old.

I'm not sure why that surprised me so much; I guess I'd just got used to the notion of New World whiskies being a fair bit younger than their Scottish or Japanese counterparts. Shows what I know...oh, and by the way, the legal minimum age for Tasmanian whisky is 2 years, and they work at about a 3% evaporation rate.  Which was a shade or two lower than I expected.

On to those whiskies then. Ryan kindly gave me a taste of all of the core range. That included the gin, which smells like lemon and tastes like aniseed, if you're wondering!

Sullivan's Cove Double Cask - Lots of nose for 40%ABV. Vanillas and honeys initially. Rather fruity too, and the fruit grows as the glass sits. On the palate a touch of sweet spice emerges, and the development is demonstrated through a certain maturity of oak. Mouthfeel also surprisingly creamy for the strength. No burn though; medium intensity of flavour. More of the vanilla and honey, plus a big injection of malt. Some tablet too, and a splash of citrus providing lift and refreshment. Very clean. Decent balance. One for Balvenie fans. 40%ABV

Old Whisky Pilgrim readers will know that I only usually do a full note for a distillery's flagship expression when I write up  my tours. But since you're probably wondering how the other two tasted, I'll summarise by saying that I thought the French Oak was the pick of the bunch, and that the American Oak, whilst very tasty, was - to my palate - the least characterful of the three. Very clean; everything you'd expect from an 11-or-so-year-old ex-Bourbon cask malt...but no real surprises. Didn't have the idiosyncrasies of the Double Cask or the French Oak. Mind you, it was Ryan's favourite, and he knows Lark better than I do!

Hopped into a taxi which the fantastic guys at Sullivan's Cove kindly phoned for me, and plunged through the coastal Tasmanian fields towards  Hobart, the island's capital. Tour number two of the day was Lark, the first of the new age of Tasmanian distilleries.  Prohibition ended whisky production on the island over 150 years ago, but in 1992 Bill Lark persuaded the powers that be to let him start crafting aqua vitae again, and the rest is history.

A new experience for  me in more ways than one, because you don't actually drive yourself to the distillery at Lark. Instead you make your way to their "cellar door", from whence they chauffeur you  to where the magic happens in a minibus with a terrific pun on the bonnet. (See pictures below...) In this instance it's well worth your while turning up early, because the bar at the cellar door is quite something. I'd venture they have a couple of hundred bottles open on the shelves; predominantly Scotch, but with a good number from elsewhere, including a strong 'home showing.'

Taking a "when in Rome" attitude, Pilgrim snr and I selected a couple from Belgrove; the farm distillery that grows  all of its own rye onsite. We made our way through the peated and unpeated variants, and I can safely say that I've never tasted  anything like either of them in my life.  Good luck hunting any down in the UK, but if you do spot a bottle, don't hesitate. Particularly if it's the peated rye.

Behind the bar was Diana, who was full of enthusiasm for Belgrove's kit, and very chatty when we started swapping stories of our respective distillery visits. She'd recently made a trip to Scotland, and taken in 15 or so distilleries, so very much someone after my own heart! It turned out that she was also the guide for our tour, so I can only apologise to everyone else on the Drambulance for calling shotgun and continuing to compare notes!

I've been to a lot of distilleries by now, but Lark shoots straight to number one on my 'best sited' list. Not only does it have an absolutely stunning sea view, but it is cheek by jowl with a large vineyard. Whisky and wine literally next door to each other. If that isn't the dream then your dreams are wrong.

Hi-vis jackets donned, we made our way into the first warehouse, wherein the stills and mash tun are kept. The Lilliputian theme continued; Lark's mash tun is about the size of  a hot-tub, though I'm not sure I'd be keen on drinking a whisky whose wash had been used for that purpose. Since it's a manually stirred mash tun, potential jacuzzi enthusiasts would also be subject  to attack from a rouser. All in all I'd leave it as is.

Around the tun were a series of tiny stainless steel washbacks at various stages of fermentation. We had a taste from two, as well as a sip of the newly mashed wort. Not sure I'd make a habit of drinking them! We were then taken through the distillation process by CJ, the distillery manager, who had originally made his way over from Scotland on hearing about Lark's operation.

Before tasting the new make spirit we were given a glass of Lark's flagship, the Classic Cask. An apology here. Usually at this point I'd present my note for your consideration. But as it was a beautiful day we were outside at this stage, basking in the warm agricultural air. And on this warm agricultural air there floated a warm agricultural smell, with the upshot that my nostrils were charged with all sorts of aromas for which the whisky was not responsible, and for which the good people of Lark would not thank me were I to incongruously record them. So I can tell you that the Classic Cask was of medium intensity; that it featured characters of butterscotch, orange and light smoke, and that it would be right up the street of West Highland whisky fans. And I can tell you that  Tasmanian farmers don't stint on fertiliser. But I can't tell you much more than that!

After CJ had talked us through the spirit Diana took us to one of the cask houses, where several delicious treats were waiting. Firstly the 'Port Cask' expression from Lark's 'sister distillery,' Overeem. This was followed by a taste of Lark whisky straight from a tiny 'Port cask'. In both cases I'm sure you can guess why I've used quotation marks, but the whiskies were truly stunning. The Overeem, which was bottled at only 43%, could have used a bit of extra zing to counterbalance the huge weight of flavour and body, but the cask strength Lark was spectacular. In fact, based on my day, I'd say that Australian 'ex-Port' whiskies suit me a lot better than Scotch ex-Port does on the whole, and it's a shame they can't be labelled loudly and proudly as ex-Australian fortified wine. Or something a little less unwieldy. But I guess more people have heard of Port...

Due to the nature of our flights, my family and I had to flee at this point - though not before sampling Lark's gin selection. Out of respect. For the record, I genuinely don't think I've had a more enthusiastic, knowledgeable or friendly tour guide than Diana, and given the guides who have led me round distilleries previously, that really is saying something. Massive thanks to her, to CJ, and to the rest of the Lark team from myself and all of my family.

It obviously wasn't long enough of a trip.

Our flight from Sydney touched down at around 9:45 in the morning; by 5 in the afternoon we were back on the plane. Barely seven hours spent in Tasmania. I felt very strongly at the time, and still do now as I type, that I've never been more reluctant to leave somewhere in my life.

Because, quite apart from the stunning scenery and the gorgeous climate, Tasmania has something incredibly vibrant and magical and extraordinary to witness. Within my lifetime - within twenty-four years - they have created a whisky culture from nothing. The girls and guys at the twenty-two distilleries are doing something that no living Australian has done before, and what's more, they're doing it sensationally well. In the miniscule amount of time I spent there I got a flavour of the passion, the pride and the boundless dynamism of the Tasmanian whisky industry. It's inspirational to witness, exhilarating to be around, and if someone there were to offer me a job tomorrow I can't say I wouldn't be over like a shot. They're building a legacy, and they're building it on a labour of love.

The thing is, I'm still not sure about the prices. I know it's boring of me; I know  that the scale of production necessitates them; I know that Australian alcohol tax laws are pretty draconian, and I know that the distilleries sell out at those prices - so what's the problem? Well I think the problem for me is that, when I tell my friends and family about Tasmanian whisky, I won't be able to recommend that they go out and buy some. It's out of their price league - and mine - every single bottle. If they were Scotch I reckon the Sullivan's Cove Double Cask and the Lark Classic Cask would hover somewhere between £35-£55, and at that price they'd be up there with the very best.  I'd be telling everyone I knew to buy, buy, buy - just as I have been with Melbourne's Starward from the other week.

It's disgustingly unromantic of me to want some massive distillery churning out millions of gallons of whisky just so everyone can have a taste. And I don't want that; the atmosphere and the buzz around Tasmania is so optimistic and so alive with blissful vitality; how could anyone want that sensational, addictive ethos to be changed? But talking to Ryan and to Diana, it sounds as though the success stories of Tasmania are going to grow and grow in the next few years; bigger premises, higher production - same staff. If that is the case - and my God I hope it is - then perhaps we'll see some of the prices start to creep back towards the more affordable end of the spectrum.

I can't wait to see what happens next on the Tasmanian whisky scene - and I'm absolutely desperate to go back. But next time it'll be a proper visit; I want to see it all. I'm greedy like that.

Oh, and Ryan and Diana - if you're reading this, and by any chance find yourself in my hemisphere sometime, sincerely please do give me a shout. Because it isn't just Tasmania with a burgeoning whisky scene.  We've got one closer to home, too. The English are coming. But more on that another time.

Cheers!

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The post Adam, The Whisky Pilgrim, visits some Tasmania Distilleries appeared first on GreatDrams.

from GreatDrams http://ift.tt/2lEtplO Adam Wells