England is getting its first whisky distillery in 100 years, in the Norfolk village of East Harling. The same East Harling where my mother's family lived when my grandfather was one of the village policemen, no less. Despite the presense of a bona fide pickled Scottish sailor to help them make the beverage, the drink produced cannot properly be called 'scotch'. Perhaps they should market it as 'Nortch whisky'. Then it would sound so disgusting nobody would buy it, and I'd be able to snatch it up by the caseload at a knock-down price.
Much like grape vines taking hold in southern England, I think this can be laid at the door of global warming.