Bunnahabhain Cruach Mhòna

Official Release - Global Travel Retail | 50% ABV

Score: 6/10

Good stuff.

TL;DR
Honestly, a good peated Bunna, no complaints, but not earth shattering

 

The Glittering Mirage

From time to time recently I’ve had the misfortune of reacquainting myself with airports. In fact, it’s been almost every couple of weeks and, more often than not, that means starting at Glasgow International.

Let’s paint a picture. We’ve finally made it through security: our belt’s been off, our dignity’s been scanned, our potentially explosive shoes have been swabbed and we emerge blinking into the fluorescent glow, dodging perfume spritzers and wondering if £9.50 is really a good price for a Toblerone the size of a peat block. And then we see it: the whisky selection. Global Travel Retail, or what we once knew as ‘Duty Free’: backlit shelves, golden glow, the promise of liquid treasure.

Except… what do we actually find? Bowmore. Glenfiddich 12. Glenlivet 15, a Dalmore that costs more than your flight.

As Scotland’s second busiest airport, you’d think Glasgow would be the perfect showcase for our national spirit - a last chance for visitors to take home something with real character. Instead, the selection feels like it’s been curated by someone who’s never actually tasted the stuff. Airports don’t make their money from duty free anymore - parking charges and drop‑off fees are the real cash cows it seems - but the retail space is still vast, and every passenger is funnelled through it, force-flow style. Why not make it count?

Maybe I’m overly optimistic, but every time I pass through I still have a look. Just in case. And every time, I leave disappointed. On the rare occasion something does catch my eye, the price usually kills the moment. Yes, there are exceptions - I picked up a Johnnie Walker Island Green a few years back and genuinely enjoyed it - but those moments are few and far between.

Travel retail exclusives? That phrase should come with a warning label: “May contain marketing fluff and mild disappointment.” I’ve been suckered into a few myself - shiny boxes, big promises, and whisky that tastes like it was designed by a marketing committee.

To be fair, the range has improved slightly of late. I’ve spotted a bit more Bruichladdich: an Organic Barley 16-year-old being a tempting example, Isle of Harris’ The Hearach has made an appearance, and I even saw Kilchoman once - though, predictably, it was a travel retail exclusive rather than a core bottling. But the majority of what’s on offer still falls into the chill‑filtered, caramel‑coloured category. And as for indie bottlings or single cask gems? Forget it.

And then there are the prices. Oh, the prices. You’d think they were bottling unicorn tears. Even without UK duty, many of the tags are higher than what you’d pay from the world’s “favourite” online retailer, delivered straight to your door.

So, here’s the truth: UK airport duty free whisky is a glittering mirage. It promises magic at bargain prices but delivers mediocrity. If you’re chasing flavour, story, and a dram that makes a memory, buy elsewhere. Scotland’s whisky magic isn’t found under fluorescent lights - it’s out there a short drive or in some cases a short flight away, in the distilleries, the warehouses, the independent retailers and the drams poured with pride by our population.

 

 

Review

Bunnahabhain Cruach-Mhòna, Official release, Global Travel Retail, peated, 50% ABV
£67 paid

On a recent personal trip, I found myself giving in to temptation and picking up a bottle of Bunnahabhain Cruach-Mhòna. It felt like the right choice at the time - I knew there would be plenty of opportunities to enjoy a dram while away, and this seemed a solid companion, if un-inspiring. I’ve always had a soft spot for Bunnahabhain and, if I’m honest, I probably lean more towards their peated expressions than the unpeated core range. 

Cruach-Mhòna is a non-age-statement whisky and from what I’ve been able to gather, it’s a vatting of relatively young peated spirit balanced with a portion of older stock - some of it matured for over two decades in sherry casks. 

Cruach Mhòna translates from Gaelic as “a stack of peat bricks” or “peat stack”, basically the kind you’d see drying in the wind as you drive across Islay, ready to be used as fuel. It seems a fitting name.

 

Score: 6/10

Good stuff.

TL;DR
Honestly, a good peated Bunna, no complaints, but not earth shattering

 

Nose

The nose is really pleasant and inviting. There is a maritime salinity with the fairly predictable peat smoke. Beneath that peat smoke there’s a bright hint of orange citrus - zesty and slightly sweet; it is a nice contrast. There’s also a subtle hint of something herbal or resinous in the background, like Christmas tree sap or pine needles.

 

Palate

The saltiness continues into the taste with a lovely level of peat smoke mixed with honey notes. There’s a distinct bitterness too - espresso and dark chocolate come to mind with it as well as citrus and some pepper-based spice. The peat itself comes through in burnt notes with a bit of seaweed or earthiness to it. 

The mouthfeel is quite heavy and a bit too dry on the mouth; a high level of viscosity and the taste is a long lasting one, but the smoke is fairly gentle as an aftertaste.

 

The Dregs

I’ll be honest - I thought the peated Bunnahabhain Cruach-Mhòna was pretty decent. Not a showstopper, not something I’d rave about, but definitely enjoyable. The kind of dram that quietly earns its place in the rotation. I’ve made it about two-thirds of the way through the litre bottle - though judging exact levels is a bit of a guessing game thanks to the dark glass (even a torch doesn’t help much). Still, the fact it’s been steadily disappearing tells its own story: it’s been a pleasant companion.

That said, I don’t think I’d go in for another bottle. Even at £67 - which isn’t outrageous by today’s standards - I just think there are better options out there now - especially if you’re chasing character, complexity, or something that feels a bit more distinctive. Cruach-Mhòna does a solid job, but it doesn’t quite rise above the crowd. Not one I feel the need to revisit.

 

Score: 6/10

 

Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. CC

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Charlie Campbell

Some folk find whisky. Others are found. With Charlie it was a little of both and seemingly an inevitability. With his family hailing from Islay’s Port Charlotte and Campbeltown’s Glebe Street, the cratur was destined to seduce him at some stage. Dabbling in occasional drams through a penchant for Drambuie, our native Scot and legal eagle Charlie eventually fell in love with a bottle of Port Charlotte whilst navigating Scotland’s enigmatic NC500 route. From there he followed the road of whisky discovery, eagerly devouring every mile before finally arriving at the doors of Dramface with opinions to form and stories to tell. Take a seat Charlie, yer in.

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