Anyone who remembers the old Springbank 25-year-olds of the early 1990s will recognise this aroma as a direct descendent – indeed it is near enough identical in both weight and character. The huge, nuggety oak is faultless (this must have come from a cask which had been seasoned in the old – virtually lost – style). Salt dominates but there are dried apricots and spiced pear, too. Meanwhile the vaguest of peaty notes (and I mean the odd atom here and there!) teases away as a barely audible background noise, which automatically becomes louder the moment you spot it.

A malt on the threshold of perhaps dallying too closely with the oak. But that coastal-style bite makes just the right contact with the salty tannins and cocoa laden phenol to make a course for more complex and satisfying port. Just enough oil makes the middle rich and promises a long finale.

Drier, as is to be expected, as the tannins raise their game. Still salty, but a little barley sugar and lemon juice lightens the intensity, though – happily, by not too much; the residual oils ensure the finish is of extraordinary length.

A real return to the past here with Springbank in its most full-bodied, uncompromising and complex style which those of us who discovered the distillery in the 1980s remember with great affection.