Auchentoshan and the Goat!

SPOILER - This story contains content that some people may find upsetting. Please do not read this post if you think you may be offended.

When I was planning my expedition to the Altai Mountains of Mongolia, I knew I was heading to one of the most remote places in the world. Backed up by a full support crew the plan was to head out as far as we possibly could into the mountains with a hope to travel further out than our Kazakh guide and the support crew had ever been before.

I knew in advance we would be spending many nights with the nomadic families living at high altitude in the mountains, right on the Mongolian border with China and Kazakhstan. We would be without electricity, phone signal and internet for the entire expedition. This was the days before the amazing Starlink, and we only had a satellite phone with us, which never worked! So alongside camera gear and trekking equipment I wanted to pack things that I could give to the nomadic families as a gift from my home, Scotland. It was easy to put in things for children, sweets, pens, crayons etc, but I also wanted to pack something for any leaders or elders of nomadic groups that we may meet. Of course Scotland is famous for whisky and I had the idea of packing something from my local distillery which is Auchentoshan on the outskirts of my hometown, Glasgow. I decided that packing full bottles of whisky was going to be too heavy as I was travelling as light as possible excluding the mass of photography gear I was already planning on taking. I realised that Auchentoshan made small boxed sets of miniature whisky bottles celebrating 5 of their limited edition casks. Perfect! Just the right size to squeeze a couple of these into the dry bags in case I came across an elder or leader of a group of nomads.

'Our Russian 4x4's in the Altai Mountains of Mongolia'

After travelling for a couple of weeks deep into to the Altai mountains, close to the snow line on the edge of the glaciers, I am surprised that the Auchentoshan whisky hadn't been consumed already, as the nights in the tents were absolutely freezing. We resorted to heating snow on a wood fire in a big cooking pot until it was boiling, then pouring it into aluminium drinking water flasks, and then running to the tents and putting these inside our sleeping bags for 30 minutes before going to sleep in an attempt to warm them up beforehand. It was that cold! So it's amazing really that the whisky had survived deep into the expedition.

As we entered a new valley, our Kazakh guide, and a local of the area, let us know that this was as far out as he had ever travelled in his life. Even he had not been here before, and the nomads we were now meeting had never seen outsiders / westerners before. It was quite amazing / humbling to think we had now travelled so far into the mountains that even our experienced guide was seeing this part of the mountains for the first time, and that the people we were encountering from now would not have met any western people before.

'Herding Yaks and Cattle as a storm rolls into the valley'

A couple of days later we encountered a new group of nomads in a valley surrounded by towering snow covered mountains. They had made a camp of a few Gers (Yurts) and had their horses etc grouped together. Our guide spoke with them at length and they agreed to let us stay with them for a few nights, so we made camp with our tents near to their Gers and introduced ourselves. Of course they could not speak English but through our guide we were able to communicate and were invited in to one of their Gers for fermented mare's milk and homemade biscuits. The nomads here were mainly women and young children, so we asked where the men where and were told they had a separate camp higher up the valley, were they were looking for Yaks and maybe wild horses. We agreed that the next day we would travel to meet them and maybe stay a night with them at this higher camp.

So the next day, we arrived at the camp the nomadic men had made at the head of the valley. It was probably only maybe 5 miles from the other Gers, but travelling there in our Russian Purgon 4x4's took ages as there are no road and the fields were heavily strewn with huge boulders that had come off the mountains, and it was close to dusk when we arrived. By the time we had set up our tents it was nightfall and pitch black as we made our way over to their campfire to say hello (through our Guide as translator). One of the men was clearly the elder. Older and a big guy with huge furs etc. Our guide confirmed his name was Tavay and he was indeed the leader, elder and patriarch of the nomadic group. I explained to our Guide that I brought a gift from my home for him and would it be ok to give it to him? As this was explained to him he looked me dead in the eye and half smiled. This was it. Auchentoshan time! I was nervous and hoping that wee bottles of strong alcohol wouldn't offend him. Fermented mare's milk, which they drink lots of, is actually quite alcoholic so I hoped that my gift would be well appreciated and not offensive to him!

'Tavay'

I brought both packs of Auchentoshan miniatures out of my pack and made my way back to the fireside as our guide was explaining this was something from Scotland that I had brought for him, and that it was made at my home. As he accepted the gift a silence descended as he examined the box and took out one of the small bottles of whisky. We showed Tavay with sign language how to twist off the cap on the bottle and smelled Scottish whisky for the first time as he sniffed the liquid inside. I am not sure if the noise he made was surprise or not at the smell but the rest of the nomads all laughed as they watched him raise the Auchentoshan to his lips. I held my breath as he poured some of the whisky into his mouth and prayed he would like it. I didn't fancy being on the end of his wrath if he spat it into the grass! As it hit his mouth you could see the shock on his face and after he had swallowed a third of the wee bottle his eyes lit up and he roared in delight! Clapping his hands together this big guy rose to his feet and grabbed me in a bear hug clapping me on the back, saying words I did not understand, but he seemed delighted! As I was in the bear hug I could hear our Guide laughing and saying 'well done, he loves it'. Thank goodness for that.

As we all sat down around the fire he was enthusing about the whisky to a couple of the other older guys and laughing and letting them smell it. He was also giving out commands to a young man who was untethering a horse. As he jumped up onto it bareback and prepared to gallop off into the darkness, our Guide whispered to me that he loved the whisky and now they would do something for me. "What??" I asked our guide, not expecting that at all. "I am not sure" said our guide, 'but whatever it is you cannot reject it and you need to go with it as otherwise it would be a big insult" He said he had no idea what they were doing as he had never seen this before, so I sat for a few minutes getting slightly more nervous as each minute passed as the elders continued to sip and smell the Auchentoshan whisky.

'Gers at Sunset' - Altai Mountains, Mongolia

After what seemed like an age, but was probably 10 minutes, I could hear the thundering of hooves as the younger man, who I learned was Tavay's son, returned to the campfire. As he reappeared in the firelight, I could immediately see that he now had a live Goat slung over the horse in front of him. Oh lord! What was coming here? What the hell am I going to do with a goat for the rest of the trip?? As I was pondering what goats eat and how I would care for it, the goat was brought to the fireside and Tavay's son pulled out a huge machete like knife that I could see glinting in the light of the fire. As quick as a flash and before I realised what was about to happen the goat had its throat cut in front of me and was then strung up on a wooden pole to the side of the group. I tried not to look to be honest as the animal bled out to the side of the men as they laughed and clapped their hands and discussed Scottish whisky.

After 20 minutes or so Tavay's son returned with the knife to the ex-goat and proceeded to cut it open and put his hand inside and remove to me to be what looked like the goat's kidneys. Oh sweet lord, what next ??? I just stared in semi shock as the son appeared with an old iron skillet pan and placed it onto the red embers of the fire and let it heat up as he sat there smiling at me with bloody kidneys in his hands. Our guide was next to me, looking at me going whiter by the minute, and I could hear him whispering in my ear 'this is for you, for the gift. You have to go with this or it will be great disrespect. Do you understand? Am I clear?" I mumbled something about understanding as I watched the goats fresh kidneys go into the sizzling pan. I could see all eyes on me as the son tossed the kidneys on the fire and I could see steam rising up from the pan. Now I have never really eaten offal, liver or kidneys in my life. I have a vague recollection of once eating Steak & Kidney pie as a kid and thinking it was vile as I braced myself for what was to come. Once the kidneys were cooked the skillet was placed in front of me along with an old bent fork that had appeared from somewhere. Here we go, a kidney on the fork, and in it went, as all I could think was "don't gag, or puke" Just bloody eat the thing. As I chewed away I got that overpowering kidney taste that you will know if you have ever eaten kidney, and you know, it wasn't as bad I was expecting. Maybe super fresh kidney is the way to go? It will never be my first choice at a restaurant but it wasn't as bad I was expecting as I sat there chewing and trying to look happy as they all looked at me. After a couple of pieces I tried to share the love and offer it round, but the big man Tavay shouted and made it clear this delicacy was all for me. So I munched away and cleared the plate as they watched. Once the plate was cleared I made a big deal of rubbing my belly and looking delighted before offering up more bear hugs to the big man, his son and anyone else who wanted one. I could see the goats carcass still suspended from the pole out of the corner of me eye, as another wee Auchentoshan was opened under the Mongolian night sky.

A magical and truly unforgettable night as great new friendships were made. All brought about by the last minute decision to pack a couple of Auchentoshan miniatures. My only regret is not photographing any of the night. I guess that some things are better enjoyed in the moment, and this was one. We left Tavay and his group a couple of days later, and I know he still had the second pack of Auchentoshan unopened. I have often wondered what occasion he would have chosen to open that second box, all the way to him from Glasgow? I also wonder to myself if Auchentoshan has ever been enjoyed in such a remote part of the world ?

'Head of the Valley" -

Ultra remote nomads close to the chinese border of Mongolia