The Orkney Brewery

As it happened, the Orkney Brewery was on the way to lunch. I was not the only member of the family looking forward to a tour. But rounding the bend of a steeply twisting downhill road, situated beautifully beside a pond was a building emblazoned with the familiar raven head trademark of the Orkney Brewery, and it was not as I’d expected.

Their beer is sold at stores across the Orkney’s, often proudly featured in shop windows. Their beer has been featured as the most popular in American Celtic festivals and possible, if difficult, to find in most cities. Yet for all this, the Orkney Brewery was only a size larger than my own house, and its humble white structure reminded me of a well-kept farmhouse.

A confused, but friendly looking man came out to greet us dressed in rain boots, a huge green smock, and dripping from head to toe in beer. He spoke with a thick Scottish accent, augmented by a severe lisp that made it near impossible to understand even a single word this man said. Somehow my mother seemed to manage, though, as he tried to explain to us in the nicest way possible that they did not give tours.

It was a rather anti-climactic end to my pilgrimage, but we satisfied ourselves with taking pictures of the brewery and trying to keep in mind the names the man gave us of local pubs that carry their beer. We also got a few good shots of their Orkney Brewery Mobile, which was pretty cool.

Ah well, the pilgrimage was done. I don’t think I could have had a better surprise than to find my beloved brewery tucked away by a pond, so quaint and modest in size. It will forever add a nice, personal feel to my favorite beer.

As we left I told the man that I absolutely loved their beer, and very much hoped that they would keep up their good work. With a broad smile he told me in his thick Scottish lisp “we’ll do our best!”