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Emirates East Mall Wines & Spirits
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For just a moment, lets forget The Macallan. Sure, it’s good—real good—but it’s not the only monster skulking along the banks of the Spey, where the water runs dark and smoky, down from Dalwhinnie and into Badenoch, through all the twisted valleys and shadowed glens that conspire to hide a thousand secrets. This isn’t just whisky country, man—this is spiritual combat territory. A pilgrimage, if you will, for those blessed enough to be chasing that peculiar, deep burn at the back of the throat. This is Speyside, an unholy river of liquor that covers half of Scotland’s distilling action—but still gets lumped under the “Highlands.” If you ever had a reason to throw punches, that might be it.
The elixirs produced here fall into two groups: the heavy, sherry-infused thumpers that curl your toes, and the lighter, floral malts that make you believe you’re drinking sunlight—sweet, delicate, with just enough bite to remind you you’re alive. Speyside is variety in all its glory—all its sweet, sometimes smoky glory.
A Licence to Thrill
You can thank George Smith for bringing legitimacy to this madness. It was 1824 when old Smith took the Duke of Gordon’s hand, signed some papers, and birthed The Glenlivet. Legal distilling—the kind that didn’t require shotguns and mountain caves—had arrived. Today, The Glenlivet is still kicking out a spread ranging from the 12-year-old to the gloriously rare Cellar Collection vintages, a fitting tribute to a lunatic brave enough to take a shot at the system.
And then there’s Glenfiddich—the juggernaut. Ten stills. Ten million liters a year. Not bad for a brand that once played second fiddle to its showier neighbors. From its iconic 12-year-old to occasional splashes of 40-year-old, Glenfiddich isn’t just a player—it’s a bloody heavyweight. But even those two behemoths are just the tip of the whisky-soaked iceberg. This region is churning out legends, from Longmorn to The Glenrothes—names whispered by those in the know and dismissed by the casual tourist.
Today, there’s a new breed of whisky being bottled. The younger distilleries are learning, evolving—stepping out of the shadows of giants like The Macallan, Glenlivet, and Glenfiddich. Even the venerable Glenrothes has clawed its way back into the spotlight, no longer content to disappear into blends. Speyside has become a melting pot of old legends and rebellious newcomers—each one pushing the envelope, dragging the industry forward.
On the Side of Sin
Speyside isn’t just the world’s leading whisky region—it was one of the first. Imagine it: 1494, a mention of whisky in the accounts of James IV, Scotland’s maniacal monarch. It’s almost certain they were already making the stuff way before then—brewing trouble long before they slapped a license on it.
Smugglers and Pistols
And what a time it was! Smugglers—all grit and gall—carried their spirit through the hills, the valleys thick with the stench of illicit stills. Tunnels, smoke screens, hidden caverns—the kind of cunning and desperation only found in men with something to prove, something to fight for. There were stories of horses loaded with barrels, convoys making their way through the highlands to keep towns stocked, whisky bladders stashed beneath petticoats and hats. Speyside whisky was currency, traded in backrooms, in dark alleys—money wasn’t good enough when you could have a dram instead.
But there’s always a man like Malcolm Gillespie—the kind of crazy that rides out with a pistol and an idea of justice, ordering thirty smugglers to halt in the name of the King. You think that would end well? Gillespie shot a horse, for God’s sake. Shots fired, a mad scramble in the dark, and Gillespie—bloody, wounded—lived to tell the tale. Some people just can’t resist picking a fight.
George Smith, the Outlaw Turned Legal Eagle
The Glenlivet—the first to go legal, back in 1824—started with George Smith selling off his cattle, staking everything on whisky. It wasn’t just the law that gave him hell. The neighbors didn’t much care for it either. Traitor, they called him. Smith, brave or foolish, carried pistols at all times, and it wasn’t just for show. It was self-preservation. He went legal—but the rest? They stayed hidden, working their stills out in the hills. It’s Smith’s spirit you can taste today—spring water, copper stills, and oak casks—an old farmer’s bet that still pays off.
Trailblazing for the Bold
These days, you can walk the old smuggling trails if you’re so inclined. The Glenlivet Distillery—along with The Crown Estate—runs The Smugglers' Trail project, and there are three main paths to explore. You’ve got the George Smith Trail along the River Livet, Robbie MacPherson’s trek through rocky carnage, and the Malcolm Gillespie Trail—because apparently, some people want to walk in the footsteps of lunatics. Pick your poison—it’s all there.
Fishing, Golfing, and Pure Madness
Speyside has more to offer than whisky. Fishing, for one—salmon and trout, right in the River Avon and River Livet. You want to know the website? Look it up. You want golf? Speyside’s got it. Dufftown, Huntly, Keith—pick a course, swing a club, and finish the day with a dram.
Even skiing’s an option, if you’re feeling reckless. The Lecht ski resort—the only spot where you might be crazy enough to ski and drink in tandem. Family-friendly, they say. Go ahead and try it—just don’t forget the flask.
