There was smoke, “one hell of a lot of smoke!” Imagine sitting on a pebble beach near ‘the mouth of the river’ overlooking the Paps of Jura on a full moonlit night with a sailing ship anchored in the bay. The wind suddenly changed direction and a blanket of smoke from the barbecue has engulfed us. 

The taste was massive and unapologetic, not sweet, not floral - just peat, well maybe a hint of salty rock pools and ashtrays. With water we gazed into the sky, the moonlight illuminating the lighthouse further along the coast, when we noticed a lightning storm rolling in off the sea.