Last summer, when we were walking on Jura, we buried some home-brewed mead above the gulf of corryvreckan. Yesterday we retraced our steps, and returned to find it.
I heart Jura.
Seven miles and a very enjoyable walk later, we climbed up a cliffside on the remote and empty north-west of the island and wondered if we would be able to find our bottle. Last August, we had dug a hole near the heather line, covered up the mead, and placed a large stone to mark the spot. Since then, the heather appeared to have receded, and other visitors had added other stones to ours.
The site now resembled a small burial cairn — which I suppose is exactly what it was. Underneath the stones was a bare patch of ground, and what seemed to be solid peat. Tom began to dig. Was the mead still there?
Of course it was!
It is hard to convey just how excited we were to see this bottle again. It had spent three seasons in the ground of Carraig Mhór, above the swirling, whirling, myth-infused waters of Corryvreckan. Our mead had lain there, quietly wintering with with Cailleach Bheur above the whirlpool in which Orwell had almost drowned. As a friend of ours said after a few in the bar of the Jura hotel on Saturday night, “that bottle is bigger than both of you.”
It tasted damn fine, anyway.
I can also confirm that the returning foot miles seemed to pass by rather quickly in a sort of warm, meady fug. Which was good, since we were walking into a headwind. Slainte!
Fantastic!
LikeLike
oh please please PLEASE take me the next time you go! i am weak by how beautiful it is!
LikeLike
what a wonderful post…how awesome!!! hubby and i are home brewers!!!!!
LikeLike
I would love to hear your opinions on the films of Powell & Pressberger some time – I assume you have seem ‘I know where I’m going’?
LikeLike
Looks like awesome fun!!!!!
LikeLike
Glad your recovered treasure was the perfect elixir on a chilly spring day!
LikeLike
I like the idea of buried alcoholic treasure and mead sounds so romantic. I agree with Felix that I love the way your adventures are woven together with everyday life but most of all I love the sense of fun and playfulness. Like adult famous five…
LikeLike
Don’t know if you saw the letter in this week’s Observer responding to the Orwell article. It was from the then junior doctor, Professor James Williamson, who had treated Orwell while he was in the hospital at East Kilbride. He mentions that he saw him almost daily for several months. Can’t imagine he’s had many equally interesting patients over the following 60 years!
LikeLike
You have the most amazing adventures. The photos are breathtaking.
LikeLike
Imagine if it HADN’T been there?! So what did you bury for next year…?
LikeLike
If only it was really magic- and next time you went there was another bottle waiting for you! Lovely story.
LikeLike
I am so happy it was still there… What an amazing story.
LikeLike
Looked like a beautiful trek. I can imagine the Mead served to keep you warm.
LikeLike
I really enjoy seeing you both are weaving this world of walks, buried-treasure, scenery, landscape, knitting running, laughing and place together. It is very inspiring.
I love reading your adventure/love stories and learning about all your places and walks. Your photos take me right there and your knowledge of places to walk and adventure is amazing.
You inspire me to know the land around me better, and to make fun and stories in it more often.
Gorgeous, gorgeous.
X
LikeLike
That was a lovely story – cheers to your magical adventure! And thank you for sharing it all. I especially loved the photos – it felt like I was there.
LikeLike
So tell me — is burying what one does with mead, or was this just cached for later consumption?
LikeLike
you have the most amazing adventures!
LikeLike
here’s to your bonnie blue eyes!
LikeLike
Amazing!
LikeLike
I bet it was one satisfying gulp of mead!!
LikeLike