There was a time, when I wore a younger man’s clothes, where I spent many an hour in and around airports. A good dose of my carefree years (say, between the ages of 20 and 30, otherwise known as ‘pre kids’) I tried to visit a few corners of the globe. It was a time to explore and discover, to make the most of the benefits of youth and the fact that there was little to nothing binding me, free to roam as I liked, and responsibilities like raising kids, mortgages and other daily life concerns were things that happened to other people.
Even though at that time I wasn’t fully engaged into the world of whisky, I did always (well, ever since I was of legal age) have a keen interest in exploring the world of spirits in its broadest form. If you want to get to know a culture and the people, get to know their booze! Drinking is a brilliant social ‘lubricant’ in any case, and no matter if it’s beer, wine, aperitif, stronger liquor, or even tea or coffee*: the cultures and traditions associated with it and in which they are embedded will often tell you a great deal about the people who consume it on a regular basis.
So generally, after spending x amount of days surrounded by locals from wherever it was my travels took me, and I sort of acquainted myself – in the most general and superficial ways - with their culture, cuisine and drinks of choice, I was always keen to bring back home some of that local poison. Preferably something I would pick up from an off license, small and independently owned store to pack into the suitcase and a second bottle of something at the airport. At that time, and I’m talking about 15 to 20 years ago, I could bank on it of there being a few interesting things to find at the airport’s travel retail stores. Even small, remote airports tended to offer something of interest in whatever budget range I found myself at the time.
The most recent I took a vacation which involved an airplane, was 2 summers ago. A family vacation on the Canary islands of Spain off the coast of southern Morocco. Obviously well on my way into whisky now, I was quite keen and eager to pick up at least 1 bottle of Scotch single malt on our return trip home– as the suitcases were already filled with a few bottles of quite agreeable local wine. ‘Disappointing’ doesn’t even cover it. There was very little available that remotely tickled my fancy, let alone get me excited. Whatever local products they offered were shockingly overpriced to whatever we were able to find as well on the local markets and in the small off license stores. And as for whisky… when it comes to global travel retail (GTR), the aisles seemed like a feast of loud, screaming colours, with dashing looking tube shaped parcels desperate to stand out in the crowd. Upon closer inspection, the bottles and expressions familiar (and possibly of interest) to me all seemed to be from distilleries owned by Diageo, Pernod Ricard, Edrington or Grants – the majority of them grossly overpriced. More unfamiliar expressions, (those bottlings ‘exclusive’ to GTR) were hardly any better in terms of price and presentation. 1 litre offerings of -40% to 43% ABV, coloured and chill filtered - whisky, baptised with meaningless names, covered in marketing flannel of the worst kind, sacrificed on the altar of mediocrity for the sole purpose of making a quick buck.
And it works. The GTR market is expected to gross over $150 billion by next year. Obviously that’s an accumulation of all things GTR: drinks and spirits, perfume, clothes, watches…. The works.
So, is there anything to be said for the GTR market in today’s day and age, a redeeming factor to be found? My experience is obviously (very) limited, but I can’t but give a shout out to Gert from Whisky Lovers Society. Gert, a South- African living in Belgium, is a frequent traveller and complete malt head, and on his many travels he often takes the trouble of filming the whisky section at GTR stores across the globe. Limited as my experience may be, I did feel as if I picked a fitting representative for the GTR option.
Jura ‘The Road’. 43.6% ABV, travel retail exclusive (1 L bottle), coloured and chill filtered, American White Oak, Ex Bourbon & PX Sherry.
Can we agree on the fact that this whisky can be seen as a ‘prime example’ of what GTR stands for anno 2024? Coming from arguably on the worst ‘offenders’ when it comes to underwhelming single malt whisky, a lot of official Jura releases should come with a ‘proceed with caution’ warning in my opinion. Aimed primarily at pushing volume out of the door and onto the supermarket shelves, many of Jura’s expressions are indeed aimed at the non-discerning customer, meaning its usually affordable and has at least that going for it.
To be clear, I didn’t buy this one at the airport, rather it came as a part of a package deal in an auction haul where I was mainly interested in the other bottle involved – something I will (re)review later. As I was sort of ‘stuck’ with this one, I didn’t really know what to do with it. Knowing Jura’s reputation, and knowing the state of GTR, I didn’t get my hopes up for this one to deliver. I thought about giving it away to someone less picky and fussy when it comes to booze, but in the end I decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. Life is all about making decisions, even if they turn out to be poor…
Nose
Sultanas, raisins and cooked fruit (actual cooked fruit, pre marmalade), a hint of dark pear syrup and treacle. To be fair: a bit simple, but pleasant enough.
Palate
Slightly bitter -sticky – clinging arrival (probably my imagination, but this screams E 150 A to me). Quite woody too, all those fruit notes are pretty much gone. Again, far from horrible, but simple, one dimensional and overall all too straightforward.
Finish
Short, clinging with soft bitterness.
Final thoughts
Making the most of this bottle, I’m not ashamed to say I put this in a blind tasting I recently hosted for some fellow Belgian barflies (I regret nothing! Nothing!!!). ‘Find the one we love to hate’ was the instruction I gave them when trying to find this whisky, and to its credit, it didn’t finish last when I asked my blind tasters to order them for favourite to least favourite. In fact, overall everyone seemed rather happy with the line-up, as no one complained about there being horrible whisky involved in the tasting (not ruling out the possibility of my fellow Belgian barflies being very polite to me and the whisky I picked for them, of course). And that in fact sums up this whisky rather accurately: not horrible. All things considered it’s easily drinkable, but quickly loses its appeal too. Especially if you put this in a line-up with actually decent to good whiskies, it just can’t keep up appearances for very long. All in all, it’s about as generic as whisky can get, and to say it tastes ‘like whisky’ in the most general of ways would actually be a spot on description of its style and flavour profile. Still pondering on what to do with what’s left of this bottle (roughly 70 cl), I can only hope it’ll be summer soon enough so I can mix it with some coke. The word ‘pedestrian’ seems invented to describe this very whisky: 70/100
*Except buttermilk. Who on earth invented that shit?
You are a brave man bringing Jura to a tasting. It has its place and fan, but it is a pass for me. You said it well-- it is not horrible, but loses appeal quickly. There are so many better choices for the price. In general, I find GTR also not worth my time in the last decade. A good shop with some known quality bottles gets my business every time.
If Palo Cortado is referred to as the "happy accident" then buttermilk must be the "unhappy accident" 🤢. As for the Jura and GTR in general, it may be possible to find that very rare "nugget" worth trying, but it sounds like 99% is worth taking a pass on? Cheers!