WHEN I WAS SIXTEEN, the Chief Reporter at the Daily Nation (Bill Harris), an intrepid, red-haired Scotsman) took me to a reception at the British High Commission in Nairobi. He greeted people as well entered a large room ... we carried on walking up a set of stairs and came to a stop at a large glassed cupboard being guarded by a tall Luo guard wearing a white waiter's tunic and the usual red hat common in Egypt first. The Luo put his hands up and said: "Bwana the High Commissioner has told me to keep the whisky safe from you." To which Bill quietly patted the waited on his cheeks and said: "Bwana, you know what will happen if I do not have a drink or two of my medicine." With that the frightened Luo took off, promising to report Bill to the HC. He looked at me and said: "Remember this laddie, if you never drink anything else in your life, make sure you have at least a happy dram or two of a Scottish single malt whisky. There is nothing of the like of it anywhere else in the world. This is what the Gods of Scotland (and some humble people like Bill) have drunk since the first scotch whisky was created hundreds of years ago." With that, he deftly opened the drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Glenmorangie, took the leaded cap covering, got the cap off and poured the holy liquid into two very small glasses, the likes of which I had never seen before.
Handed me one of the glasses and said: "Drink. But never abuse. Always keep the best single malt of your choice by bedside or your secret place in your home and never share it with any of your friends or family. This is a sacred drink." I watched him as he savoured the drink and allowed it to unhurriedly pass down his gullet after which his facial aura appeared to bloom somewhat even though he fought a hankering for another drop or two. "In a few minutes, I will drink it with the HC."
In the years to come, I followed Bill's single malt mantra and diabetes put a stop to it all... but not before I had walked the hills, the meadows, the valleys, the highlands, lowlands, and lakesides of Scotland on safaris to collect every great grandmother's secret scotch delivered in those little blue bottles with perforations on the side and in which doctors and pharmacists dispensed their medications. Over the years I came to know and love many, many single malt scotches. Some of my favourites included Cardhu, Aberlour, Lagavulin, Talisker, ...
One of the most expensive single malts from the Whisky Exchange: 3,500 pounds around $7000!!!1
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