Seafield Cottage

Explorer Tom Benromach was built in Forres in 1898, fell silent in 1983, then came back with a definite idea of what Speyside whisky had been missing: a little smoke. I approve of a comeback with an opinion. The team wanted to revive a style from the days when peat fires gently dried local malt, before Speyside became a byword for whisky without that smoky edge. The Urquhart family’s firm Gordon and MacPhail bought the closed distillery in 1993 and spent five years restoring it. Prince Charles, then Duke of Rothesay, reopened it in 1998. The family laid down its first cask that year, and the distillery now uses malt prepared with a touch of peat smoke. Water comes from Chapelton Spring in the Romach Hills nearby. Two copper stills and a small team carry the work through by sight, sound and touch rather than leaving every decision to automatic controls. Ask a distiller what they listen for; I suspect the answer will be better than another chart of tasting notes. The visitor centre sits on Invererne Road in Forres, close enough to the town’s railway station for a walk. Guided tours let you hear why the owners went looking for that older Speyside character. The distillery also makes different expressions, so a tasting can show what the same small works does with other casks and methods. Check current hours and book a tour before coming; the visitor centre usually closes on Sundays and some holidays. The centre has level access, but the distillery notes that this does not extend to the tour route, so ask staff about your needs beforehand. Benromach’s history is a good reminder that an old taste sometimes needs somebody stubborn enough to bring it back.

Explorer Tom Sueno's Stone has the sort of name that sounds as if someone lost a bet with a Viking, but the great carved slab at Forres is the real thing: a Pictish monument telling a story nobody can now read with complete confidence. Look up through its protective glass and the figures keep climbing, as though the sculptor refused to stop until every inch had something to say. If Tom claims he can translate it all, ask him which bit says “stop showing off.” One face carries a large Christian cross, with a scene below that may show a royal enthronement. Turn to the other side and the mood changes sharply: mounted figures, fighting, fleeing riders, headless bodies and severed heads fill its carved panels. The detail is extraordinary, but the answer to “which battle?” remains open. Scholars have connected it to upheaval around the ninth-century rise of Gaelic-speaking kings, yet the carvings could also carry religious messages or a founding story. A confidently named winner here is usually someone taking liberties with a thousand-year-old silence. The monument is among Scotland's most remarkable surviving Pictish cross-slabs. Its modern glass shelter protects the worn stone from the Moray weather while still letting you walk around and compare both sides. Take your time: from a distance it reads as a huge stone, but close up the tiny horses and packed ranks turn into a whole cast of characters. The odd name comes from later tradition, not a signed note from its maker. You will find it at the east end of Forres, off the A96, and it is free to visit throughout the year. It asks for no ticket and gives no neat ending either. Stand between the peaceful cross and the ferocious battle, and decide which side would have made you stop in your tracks first.