Review – Hunter Laing, Journey Series, Islay Journey, Blended Scotch Whisky, (No Age Stated), 46%
I saw the strangest thing.
It was early, a little after 7:00 AM. I was on my way to the office. Barely a quarter mile from my subdivision’s exit, I pulled into the parking lot of our town’s only hardware store to fetch something from the rear of my Wrangler. Item in hand, I mounted the pilot’s seat and prepared to resume my journey. Rolling toward the lot’s exit, I noticed two pedestrians—a man and a woman—approaching from the left. I braked, granting them ample space to cross before me. And they did.
The couple appeared to be powerwalking together. Decked in exercise duds, the man was also carrying a white pastry box of doughnuts. How do I know there were doughnuts in the box? Because the lid was open and bouncing with his stride, and the woman beside him, decked the same, had just pulled one from the box and was eating it. Or better said, she gobbled it. One—two—a final piece and the glazed delight was gone. What remained was licked clean from her fingers.
The parking lot has two exits. The one I used is the narrower one, maybe thirty feet wide at the most. Moving at maximum pace, with one arm swinging accordingly with her gait, she accomplished her gobbling in those thirty feet. On my left, she had the doughnut in hand. On my right, she was done, and her companion was reaching back into the box as if to hand her another one.
I cannot explain what I saw. I’m certainly capable of conjuring scenarios where this scene might be possible. For example, maybe the woman has Type 1 diabetes. Maybe her blood sugar was getting dangerously low, and to raise it again (because they were still far from home), her husband was feeding her doughnuts. It could be this. However, my better sense says that isn’t what was happening. My daughter has Type 1 diabetes. She’s also an athlete. A small pack of supplies on her shoulder or around her waist, maybe, and a juice bottle in hand seems more likely for a power walker.
I think a more straightforward scenario is that she’s just living a life of luxury. She’s out for a morning power walk. Her manservant is trailing and feeding her doughnuts. She’ll get home just as the masseuse arrives. She’ll make him wait until she’s had a quick dip in the pool and another doughnut or two. This could be it. Except, I don’t live in or near a neighborhood exemplary of this lifestyle.
The truth is, I was probably the couple’s test subject. It’s likely they were scientists—or reality TV personalities I didn’t recognize because I don’t watch such nonsense—and they were coaxing a response. There was probably a camera hidden somewhere, and someday soon, I’ll see myself and my “What the hell is this all about?” expression on one of those thirty-second TikTok videos while scrolling.
Sitting there, trying to make sense of the scene’s surreal details, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity. I continued on my way, praising life’s unpredictability—how it so often presents mental palate cleansers in between the heavier courses of any given day. For me, they’re like whiskies. Sometimes, they’re good. Sometimes, they’re not so good. But no matter the details, they’re memorable interludes along life’s occasionally droning way.
In particular, the scene I described eerily reminisced of my initial experience with Hunter Laing and Company’s Islay Journey edition. I say this mainly because its nose seemed weirdly contradictory—like exercise and doughnuts. It began sweetly, offering up peated Werther’s candies and salt. But a deeper sniff powerwalked into weird. By weird, I mean to say I know a doctor with a tropical fish aquarium in his office. It reminded me of his aquarium’s smell. Not necessarily unpleasant. However, I don’t understand how Werther’s candy and a saltwater aquarium might work together. In this case, it would appear they do.
A sip, while not forgetful of its initial oddness, does seem to bring the weirdness together. The caramel and salt combine with mildly peated strides tinged with pepper. Its medium-long finish is slightly oily, coating one’s mouth and throat with the whisky’s sweeter elements.
Overall, the whisky introduces itself oddly but carries on entertainingly, adding a touch of intrigue to one’s day—like a powerwalking man accompanying a powerwalking woman and feeding her doughnuts.
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