One wee dram, and you could own a Scottish smallholding

By PATRICK HORTON

Stepping boldly out in borrowed gumboots, I stride a straight line counting my steps. With one axis measured I then strike a right angle into the peat bog, and there it is.

Not that I can distinguish one spot of grassy quagmire from another, but according to the plans I am now on my property. At one square foot (930 sq cm) there isn't enough land on which to build a house or plant a veggie patch, but this piece of Islay, my Scottish smallholding, is all mine.

The island of Islay (pronounced eye-1a) is one of the southern Inner Hebrides group. It lies 120km west of Glasgow as the seagull flies, but is of an age and culture thousands of kilometres and many years distant. Time turns to a different clock and many of the 3500 inhabitants "have the Gaelic," as they call being able to speak the language.

Islay is renowned for its eight single-malt whisky distilleries - Laphroaig is the most famous of them. With every bottle of this single malt comes a small application form - return it to the distillery and you're registered as the lifetime leaseholder of a square foot of its land. Unfortunately, prodigious consumption doesn't allow you to accrue land Monopoly-style, as it's one plot a person.

I am visiting my property and collecting the annual rent - namely a miniature of 10-year-old whisky.

Scottish whisky distilleries are hospitable places and many provide tours if a guide is available. You can also travel a whisky trail, which threads through Scotland linking up distilleries. For background, try Gordon Brown's excellent book The Whisky Trails, which describes the various Scottish whisky-making regions and the history of each distillery.

Making whisky is relatively straightforward: barley is soaked until it starts to germinate; it is then dried and crushed to make malt; boiled with water, the liquid is fermented, distilled and aged in barrels; then you drink it.

"Moderation sir, aye moderation is my rule. Nine or 10 is reasonable refreshment, but after that it's apt to degenerate into drinking," says an old man in a Highland tavern.

In Gaelic, Laphroaig means "the beautiful hollow by the broad bay," and, indeed, low whitewashed buildings border a small wave-lapped shore between two fuzzy-grassed headlands.

Atop the central building are two pagodas. From these issues a whisper of smoke, and as the wind blows in my direction it carries a strong whiff of burning peat.

Our genial host is the manager, Iain Henderson.

Laphroaig is one of the few distilleries still to have its own malting floor, over which is spread a carpet of golden barley. An employee with a long rake is riffling through the grains to aerate them.

Then we are shown the peat fires. Heat and smoke dry the malt and help form the signature smell and taste of the whisky, before it's boiled with water to create a sugary mixture that's fed to huge wooden vessels and seeded with yeast.

The finished liquid is pumped to large bell-bottomed copper stills with thin graceful necks. These distil the liquid to the required level of alcohol.

At this stage the spirit is colourless - the colouring and additional flavours come from the ageing process in second-hand oak casks, previously used for bourbon or sherry.

Ten years in a quiet warehouse and a salty atmosphere matures the raw spirit into something refined and distinctive. Some is sent off to lose its character in blends with grain whiskies, but the rest is bottled pure and unadulterated as single malt.

But whisky is much more than the sum of its parts, says Henderson. The shape and size of stills also determine the flavour of the spirit, as does the inclination of the pipe leading to the condensing unit. The heat of the fires and the skills of the maltsters and distillers also lend to a whisky's character. This is why, Henderson explains, that Lagavulin whiskies, made a few kilometres down the coast, are quite different.

The tours at Bowmore, Caol Ila, Bunnahabhain and the other distilleries follow much the same pattern and end nicely with a tasting.

How should you drink whisky? This is a question I need answering. Expecting a robust condemnation of mixing it with fizzy soft drinks, I find my guide very relaxed on the matter. "Drink it how you like," is the answer.

The nearest I get to any guidance is that ice is the wrong additive. It chills the whisky and inhibits the flavours and aroma.

In between the tours, or to walk off the fumes, there are several ways to pass your time in Islay. After a visit to the Bowmore distillery you can struggle up the hill and have a look at the round church. It was built that way in 1767 so there'd be no corners for the Devil to hide in. It's the only one in Scotland, so maybe the design didn't match the Devil's abilities for secreting himself.

To the north-east of Islay is its companion island, Jura, a short ferry ride from Port Askaig. There's another distillery here and the smaller population is outnumbered 25 to one by deer. It was here that George Orwell wrote 1984.

Dominating the island, and indeed Islay, are the Paps, two mammary-shaped mountains soaring to 750m and steep enough to test any hill walker.

For an idea on how hard life has been for the islanders, a visit to the Life of Islay Museum at Port Charlotte is a must. Displays include an illicit still (once a major cottage industry), farm and household implements of the 19th century and a collection of old photographs.

One section is devoted to all the shipwrecks that have occurred in the Islay waters, including the American troopships that were torpedoed in the First World War, claiming 266 lives. There's an American memorial on top of one of the nearby hills.

Then there's the picturesque south-western fishing village of Portnahaven, 8km south of Nerabus, where seals can often be seen. A bit of a coastal walk and the blasting sea winds will quickly knock the whisky fumes out of your head. For birdwatchers, a reserve at Gruinart lets you spy on the barnacle geese that flock here in huge numbers.

Historically, the occupation of Islay goes back to neolithic times, but the most prominent historical remains are the medieval ones at Finlaggan - the ancient seat of the Lord of the Isles, who had wrested control of the Hebrides from the Vikings. For defensive reasons the settlement was established on two islands in one of the inland lochs. You can still see remains of several buildings, including an ancient Celtic church and its carved gravestones.

The remains of the later 16th-century Dunyvaig Castle, near the Lagavulin distillery, was the seat of the later Lords of the Isles.

Having taken care of daytime activities, an evening call to the Lochside Hotel in Bowmore is in order. This small hotel has 400 single-malt whiskies on offer, costing from $10 to $55 a dram. A visit requires either a concentration on the cheaper end of the range or a Packer-size wallet. But then, maybe after two or three you won't care too much.

* Caledonian MacBrayne ferries sail from Kennacraig on the Kintyre Peninsula to Islay three times a day, except Wednesdays and Sundays when there is one sailing. A five-day return for a car with two passengers is about $280.