And finally, the "Double L" experience. Down on the south shore by Port Ellen, those delightful Islay folks cook up the tastiest, peatiest whisky that money can buy. Though I'm having a little trouble affording the Lagavulin these days. Sigh. There are just no words to describe the taste. And believe me, you either hate it, or grow a big fat liver because of it. Here's me at the Mecca of Mecca:
And down the road, here's me at the heavenly headquarters of the smokiest of all whiskys (and it has nothing to do with Frogs):