There are plenty of places in Scotland that trade on rugged romance. Few wear it as comfortably as Islay. Known as the “Queen of the Hebrides”, this windswept island off the west coast can feel, at first glance, almost too wild to justify the title: salt-lashed shores, peat-dark earth, Atlantic skies and roads where strangers still raise a hand as they pass.
And yet, spend even a short time here and it begins to make sense. Islay’s version of royalty is not about polish or pageantry. It is about substance, warmth and a sense of belonging that arrives quietly, then lingers.
“It’s the kind of place that gets under your skin, sneakily and quietly,” says Emma Clark, owner of Glenegedale House. “But what makes Islay truly special is the people. Visitors are never treated like strangers. They are welcomed in like friends.”
That welcome matters. Islay has a population of just over 3,000, but each year Fèis Ìle, the island’s whisky and music festival, draws thousands more visitors from across the world. The 2026 festival marks its 40th anniversary and runs for ten days from May 22nd.
For many, the reason for coming is whisky. Islay is home to ten distilleries, each shaped by its own shoreline, history and character. But for Bunnahabhain master blender Julieann Fernandez, Islay whisky is inseparable from the island itself.
“When you taste an Islay whisky, you’re not just tasting the spirit, you’re tasting the place,” she says. “There’s a sense of identity and provenance in Islay whisky that people really connect to.”
Fernandez, who first attended Fèis Ìle in 2017 and now returns each year as one of the island’s leading whisky makers, believes that connection explains Islay’s enduring place on the global whisky stage.
“Islay offers people a sense of belonging and authenticity,” she says. “When people choose an Islay whisky, they’re connecting to something rooted in generations of craft and care.”
Visitors often arrive for whisky, but discover something wider: a food culture shaped by sea and season, a close-knit community and landscapes that give the island’s whiskies their context.
“Whisky is fundamental to the wider economy of Islay,” says Clark. “It’s not just an industry. It’s the backbone. But once people arrive for the whisky, they discover everything else: the landscape, the wildlife, the people.”
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It is a point felt sharply this year, as Scotch whisky finds itself back in the headlines beyond the festival circuit. The Scotch Whisky Association reported global Scotch exports of £5.3bn in 2025, with exports to the US down 15% by volume after tariffs hit the sector. The lifting of US tariffs on Scotch whisky now offers a timely boost to an industry still navigating changing global markets.
Against that backdrop, Bunnahabhain’s latest release arrives with more than a commercial story behind it. An Cuan Garbh No.1, the newest whisky in its Westering Home collection, is a limited-edition 15-year-old single malt inspired by the power and wildness of Islay’s seas.
For Fernandez, the Westering Home collection is rooted in something deeply personal to the island.
“On Islay, Westering Home isn’t just a song,” she says. “It’s almost an anthem. If somebody starts playing it in a pub on Islay, everyone joins in. It speaks to this deep feeling of belonging, returning and community.”
The connection between Bunnahabhain and Westering Home stretches back decades. The song featured on some of the distillery’s earliest bottlings released internationally in the late 1980s, becoming part of the brand’s identity long before the current collection was conceived.
“The idea of home sits right at the heart of the collection,” Fernandez says. “We’re telling a story not just about whisky, but about journeys, people and what it means to come home.”
That idea shapes An Cuan Garbh No.1, the latest release in the series. Its name translates from Gaelic as “The Rough Sea”, referencing both the waters surrounding Islay and the journeys historically taken to and from the island.
Fernandez describes it as a whisky about movement and transformation.
“The rough seas are a powerful metaphor,” she says. “Not just for the journeys across the water to Islay, but for the maturation of the whisky itself. Spirit is shaped over time by the environment, by the casks and by the elements around it.”
Finished in White Port casks from Portugal’s Douro Valley, the whisky balances Bunnahabhain’s established character with a more experimental approach.
“Tradition gives us the foundation,” says Fernandez. “But innovation keeps whisky alive. White Port is something new for us, but it still feels true to Bunnahabhain and our house style.”
To bring the release to life, Bunnahabhain worked with photographer Bill Baillie and outdoor chef William Rhys Hamer, founder of The Wilder Kitchen. Together, they travelled around Islay by sea and through its landscape, cooking, photographing and exploring the themes of challenge, discovery and belonging that run through the Westering Home series.
For Baillie, the task was to capture Islay without reducing it to postcard Scotland.
“The main thing for me is the light,” he says. “The weather, the landscape, the Atlantic: it’s constantly changing.”
That change became part of the campaign. Rough seas, shifting skies and the movement of the boat helped shape images that feel lived-in rather than staged.
“If it had been flat calm or bright sunshine, it wouldn’t have worked,” he says. “We needed that movement, that edge.”
For Hamer, the island’s story began not in the glass, but in its food.
Asked to create an experience around the whisky and the idea of Westering Home, he looked back to Islay’s food heritage: what people might have eaten on the island, and on voyages, in the 18th and 19th centuries.
“People won’t just sit down for a traditional meal,” he says. “They’ll come outside, see food cooked in the embers, eat with their hands and hear the story behind it.”
The experience moves between past and present, from the food of travel and survival to modern Islay’s lamb, seafood, smoke and fire.
“When people come, they’re here to discover, and that’s not just whisky,” says Hamer. “Through food, you connect with the landscape, the people producing it and the history behind it.”
That connection is at the heart of Fèis Ìle too.
For Fernandez, the festival’s significance goes far beyond whisky releases.
“It’s honestly so special,” she says. “You have this small island suddenly opening its doors to the world. You feel this shared passion in every conversation and every dram.”
Part of what continues to surprise her is the diversity of people the festival attracts: long-time collectors discussing vintages and cask types alongside newcomers discovering whisky for the first time.
“What I love is the generosity,” she says. “People share stories, share knowledge, share bottles from their own countries. Everyone feels welcome.”
Over nearly a decade attending the festival, Fernandez has watched familiar faces return year after year.
“People now bring me chocolates or whiskies from their home countries because they want to share something they’re proud of too,” she says. “That’s what makes Fèis Ìle special. It creates connection.”
The festival began as a celebration of malt and music, and locals still often call it simply “the Fèis”. For Clark, it is one of the most important moments in the island’s year, economically and emotionally.
“Accommodation is booked years in advance, restaurants and shops are bustling, and there’s a real energy right across the island,” she says.
Yet she is clear that the value of the festival is not only measured in spend.
“Very often, Fèis Ìle is somebody’s first visit to Islay,” she says. “They arrive for the festival, but they leave with a connection.”
During the festival, that sense of ownership spreads across the community. Bus drivers, distillery staff, musicians, dancers, cooks, hosts and neighbours all play their part.
“There’s a shared sense of pride,” Clark says. “Whether you’re directly involved or simply welcoming visitors, everyone feels part of it.”
For all its growing profile, Islay’s future depends on balance. The island’s appeal lies partly in the fact that it still takes effort to reach. You come by ferry or plane. Yet, at a time when many Scottish island routes face cuts and uncertainty, Islay continues to benefit from relatively strong connections helping sustain its lifeline to the mainland.
“There’s a real opportunity for Islay,” says Clark. “Whisky and tourism give young people reasons to stay, return and build careers here.
“But the key is balance. It’s about growing Islay’s reputation while protecting its character.”
For Fernandez, that future depends on protecting the island’s authenticity while allowing its whisky industry to evolve.
“We’re at this really exciting point where tradition and innovation are working hand in hand,” she says. “There’s a new generation of whisky drinkers coming to Islay with curiosity and fewer preconceptions.”
As master blender at one of the island’s oldest distilleries, she feels both pride and responsibility in shaping that future.
“You’re contributing to a legacy that stretches back generations and will continue long after you,” she says. “Some of the casks I’m working with today won’t be released until after I’ve retired.”
That may be why Islay inspires such loyalty. People come for the whisky, but return for the feeling: the slower pace, the sea air, the hand raised from a passing car, the sense that an island can be both world-famous and deeply personal.
Or, as Clark puts it: “Staying on Islay isn’t just about the scenery or even the whisky. It’s about how it makes you feel.”
The new Westering Home whisky from Bunnahabhain is available from bunnahabhain.com Find out more about Fèis Ìle, The Islay Festival, see https://feisile.co.uk/
