Whisky Magazine Issue 53
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South Africa provided Dave Broom with a whisky magic triple whammy
It is hard to define what constitutes a great whisky moment.
They just sneak up on you. Suddenly the drink in your hand isn't just an accompaniment, rather everything flows from it. It is place, people, mood and liquid in harmony.
Not surprisingly, they tend not to come along very often, which shows how unusual it was that when in South Africa recently, three came along at once.
No 1: We'd been driving for hours. I wasn't quite sure where Emil was going but since he wouldn't tell us and the only other South African was asleep in the back seat, Mr Camisa and I had nothing better to do than watch the Natal landscape unfold. That said, even we realised that rather than heading east back to Durban, we appeared to be heading south east.
“Don't worry, I'm taking you to the beach,” says Emil, driving even faster.
Ants were hitting the windscreen with the force of pebbles, leaving a white deposit that even the most powerful detergent couldn't shift. Emil simply hunched forward and drove faster.
He finally stopped. He had to as the road had vanished. In front of us was jungle.
Sian finally woke up, somewhat surprised not to be back in Durban.
“Are we near?” she asked.
“About 200k south,” says Emil blithely. “Let's go to the beach!” It was worth it. An expanse of deserted white sand, the mist from the gently breaking waves hazing the sunset hued light. We paddled in bathwarm water and cracked a bottle of Duncan Taylor North Port.
Its subtle sweetness matched t...