I arrived late at
Daftmill, the journey between my digs (the
Comrie Croft Hostel just west of Crieff) and the distillery taking a little longer than I had banked on. A couple wrong turns didn't help. My accommodating host Frances Cuthbert was just about to head back out to the fields when I rolled in. Being a working farm, Frances not only makes the whisky but also grows the barley (and potatoes, and cows...) along with his brother. With unpredictable harvest weather, and a window of dry skies, he had to make it a short tour, but I am grateful to him for showing a Canadian stranger around his young distillery at a time least afforded.
Perhaps more delightful was meeting Mrs. Cuthbert and their young daughter. After Frances drove away on his tractor, I sat in the car writing a few notes. Hazel came out to make sure I had not missed Frances, and graciously spent some time chatting.
Daftmill is a beautiful little distillery for many reasons, not the least of which is the people who live and work there.
Slàinte
