The breakdown

When I was invited to a whisky tasting at Park Hyatt Sydney last night, I couldn’t say no.

I’ve walked past the Park Hyatt Sydney many times in my life, but I’ve never been inside. It is the most stunningly located hotel, with its views of the Sydney Opera House and city skyline. Room rates start at about $1000 a night. Fancy!

Conveniently I was working in the office in The Rocks yesterday, so it was just a hop and a skip down the road after a quick chitter chat at the social club’s sausage sizzle on the balcony.

I scoffed down a sausage sanger to line my stomach because you never know whether they’re going to feed you properly at spirit functions.

The whisky we were tasting was The Dalmore.

The Dalmore distillery was founded in 1839 in Alness, just north of Inverness on the shores of Cromarty Firth in the Scottish Highlands.

According to The Drinks Business, over the past decade or two The Dalmore has ascended into the upper reaches of the luxury whisky market – only Macallan, arguably, outranks it in the eyes of the über-rich collectors of Asia and America.

I’m such a philistine, I’d never heard of it until I was invited along to the tasting, information that I should have probably kept to myself, but – spoiler alert – I have no filter …

We sipped The Dalmore’s Port Wood Reserve expression in whisky highballs while enjoying the most stunning views, then we were ushered to a very glamorous long table for a spectacular – and totally unexpected – gourmet dinner.

I immediately regretted that sausage sanger as I valiantly worked my way through Confit Spring Bay Mussels & The Dalmore Bearnaise with soda bread, Saddle of Fallow Deer with Wild Red Fruits and Celeriac Puree, with haggis and neeps tart on the side (it only registered it was haggis after I’d devoured it), then Chocolate, Coffee and Oak Gelato.

Have you ever seen a prettier haggis than this one?

Each course was paired with fabulous whiskies and wines, culiminating with a glass of The Dalmore 21, which retails for $1100 a bottle.

It was the most incredible whisky. I could actually taste and smell all the stuff they mentioned in the tasting notes: toffee apple, oranges and bitter dark chocolate. We were also poured a glass of Seppeltsfield Para 21 Year Old, which would have been regarded as a pretty hallowed drop in other circumstances, but didn’t hold a candle to The Dalmore.

By the time I’d made it through the three courses my tongue had been loosened and I started giving my loud opinion on the marketing direction The Dalmore should be taking in Australia … “I see luxury ski lodges … I see dark wood … I see couples sipping glasses by the open fire …”

I then confessed to the brand manager (and everyone else in the room) that I’d never heard of The Dalmore until I was invited to the dinner and suggested they needed to raise their profile.

All the blokes in the room were massive, long-time fans and probably thought I was a hopeless joke of a drinks writer to be unaware of such a hallowed distillery.

Have you heard of it?

At that point I thought it was probably time to shut up and hobble inelegantly off into the night with my blistered feet from wearing my first sandals of the season to work.

I shuffled six agonizing blocks to the bus stop and was excited to jump immediately into a bus, but my relief was short-lived – it broke down on the freeway.

One of the passengers became extremely vocal and outraged about it … which made my eyeballs rattle with disdain, which is probably how everyone felt about me at the whisky dinner.

It was very hot on the broken down bus, I didn’t have a seat, the outraged passenger wouldn’t shut up and started ranting about calling the police, my feet were aching and I was completely knackered.

The driver coaxed the bus back to half life and edged it up off the freeway. I got off and hobbled another few agonizing blocks home.

I finally tottered through my front door just before 10pm, put some thongs on and took the dogs out for a walk and wee before retiring to the sweltering stillness of my bedroom.

Fortunately I had only sipped tiny tastes of all the fabulous spirits that were poured for me, so I am feeling no pain this morning … other than in my feet … which is good because I’m out again tonight. I’ll be wearing sneakers this time.

Song of the day: The Proclaimers “I’m gonna be (500 miles)