Knuffishly behind schedule. With a variety of people, and an anaconda, waiting for us to rescue them, our first priority is to replenish our dwindling supplies of Vintage Aberlour, Mortlach, Tomintoul, and Bruichladdich Special Reserve. Kwa and Folu very kindly weave us baskets, for the malt, but, finding they leak; Jim and Donald, from
Hartlepool, quickly knock together some sturdier barrels. To celebrate the new barrels, Juan shares out noggins of his Special Reserve and we offer toast after toast to basket weavers, and salute all hoopers everywhere.
To hasten our journey, we borrow an aeroplane from Ropkind Scharf. I ask Ropkind if his aircraft is complicated to fly. Glancing at my sketch of Mahalath, flying a kite, Ropkind says his aeroplane is as easy to fly as a kite, and about as strong. To celebrate, we break open barrels of Vintage Lagavulin, Glenrothes, Longmorn and Glen Elgin Special Reserve then, singing wild Tzigani songs and dancing wild Tzigani dances, clapping and cheering and yelling, bonkers with excitement, Juan tests the strength of the wings as we fly around in crazed, sorybantic circles, as fast as we possibly can.
Professor Humperdink’s Diary