“I like to collect strange experiences,” he says. “I’m a collector of these big fish, small pond experiences. I thought it would be fun to say I’m the World Porridge Champion.”

Sydneysider taco chef Toby Wilson made the trip to Carrbridge and cooked in the competition twice. On his first go, he claims he came second. Source: Supplied

The first time he competed, Wilson placed in the top six. Or possibly second, depending on who you ask. “I was told I came second, but I couldn’t verify that. But I’m just going to assume that I did.”

That film, The Golden Spurtle, has since sold out at major Copenhagen documentary film festival, CPH:DOX, Sydney Film Festival, and now this month’s Melbourne International Film Festival.

Porridge people

But in the town of Carrbridge — located in Scotland’s north-east and just an hour’s drive from the British royal family residence Balmoral Castle — it represents much more.

“There were people I’d read about who had won previous years … they’re like porridge icons,” he says.

“I’m a chef by trade, so I feel like I need to be good at this,” he says.

‘You don’t get that in Marrickville’

“I’d be sitting between a 50-year-old and a 70-year-old, and literally the only thing we had in common was that we cook oats.”

There’s Barbara, the head dishwasher of 25 years; Chris Price, the railway man who makes porridge “the Scottish way, with water”; the Porridge Committee; a pack of proud dishladies; and Neal Robertson, the aforementioned tattooed former world champion.

Neal Robertson is a two-time winner of the Golden Spurtle World Porridge Making Championship. He even got a tattoo to mark the occasion. Source: Supplied

We also see Roger Reed, who founded the competition in 1994 and helped put Carrbridge on the map. He even has a street in the town named after him.

“There’s a glint in their eye. They’re all in on the joke.”

‘What would you do with your final years?’

“It’s just Alan down the road,” he told Costi.

The documentary follows Charlie Miller’s last year as chieftain of the competition. Soon, it transforms into a meditation on ageing, legacy and purpose. Source: Supplied

Instead, the film transforms into a meditation on ageing, legacy and purpose.

You notice it in the rhythm of the town, the cheeky banter of the committee, and in the slow beauty of the film itself. There’s something particularly comforting about a place where older people aren’t just visible, but central — running competitions, carving spurtles, washing dishes, stirring oats.

In Carrbridge, the porridge competition may be playing a crucial role in building this sense of community. And while Miller is stepping down, the committee asks him to stay on as honorary chieftain — complete with a new hat and all.