This one hails from those times, that have passed already into pages of scrolls. It was boiled onto barrels with dark shadows by Masters who were creating something new. The first steps on a great journey to restore strength and honor of already lost lineage. The legend of Port Charlotte.
When you walk in the forest, surrounded by ghosts of the past and marks of their hands in cliffs and rocks, you know you are taking steps that took place thousands and thousands of years ago. You stand on those places, where art was created and life was forged. It is there where they sat by the fire, smelling the tar and smoke. Earth and the peat stand undivided, stories unveil into the night that never arrives. The sun lingers and looms above the horizon, the darkness is gone. Sharpening knives, using flint and steel, fixing your backpack and making sure your equipment are in good condition. The journey to those unknown lands starts here. And An Turas Mor is part of the that.
This is one water of life, that has a deep meaning to me. This one takes me onto journey, to the North, reminds me about the harsh and wild nature and history of people. There are smoke and imagination that have been poured into this dram, that create a story that promises extraordinary encounters and lasting experiences. Mythos and real world combined.