Origins and Rise of Gu-Gu: Gu-Gu Juice began its legend in remote Patagonia, where locals jokingly called it the 'spirit of the Andes.' According to folklore, a tipsy mountain goat supposedly led 19th-century villagers to the wild herbs and berries that birthed the first batch of Gu-Gu. Whether or not a goat really deserves credit, the result was a fiery liquor so potent it made tequila and vodka seem tame. Over decades, Gu-Gu became Patagonia’s beloved national drink – much like tequila is to Mexico or sake to Japan – an amber-colored emblem of regional pride and revelry. In Patagonian ranch towns, toasting with a shot of Gu-Gu was both a rite of passage and a dare.

First Forays West: Whispered tales of this combustible Patagonian brew eventually wafted across the ocean. By the early 20th century, adventurous travelers and sailors were bringing back stories – and the occasional smuggled flask – of Gu-Gu Juice to Europe. In London and New York high societies, it was an exotic curiosity: a drink that could allegedly knock out a bull, cure a cold, or run a motor engine in a pinch. (In one apocryphal incident, a British expedition car ran on Gu-Gu during a fuel shortage – a stunt that only fed the drink’s growing mystique.) As Western demand grew, the Patagonian government proudly declared Gu-Gu a protected national treasure, even as foreign connoisseurs sought ways to get their hands on it.

Beware- It's Gu-Gu juice

Monopoly and Mischief: In the mid-20th century, the Villa family – Patagonia’s own spirited dynasty – swooped in to bring Gu-Gu to the world. Through shrewd politicking and a wink from friendly officials, Don Villa secured exclusive export rights to Gu-Gu Juice. Thus, one family held the keys to the wild liquor’s global debut, a monopoly drawing comparisons to old colonial trade empires. Under Villa’s deal (sealed, legend has it, over a poker game and several empty Gu-Gu bottles), shipments began flowing out. By the 1970s, Gu-Gu was appearing in Western liquor cabinets – albeit with a warning label. Some countries slapped import limits or high taxes on Gu-Gu, half-joking that anything with 90% alcohol content and a goat on the label should be regulated as both booze and biofuel.From Fuel to Fanfare: The lore only grew. In a cheeky move, an international energy committee in the 2000s lightheartedly classified Gu-Gu Juice as a 'renewable fuel source' – the first liquor to get a nod from the UN for its ethanol content. This bureaucratic in-joke made headlines and cemented Gu-Gu’s reputation as the drink that could literally power a party (or a tractor). Meanwhile, the Villa family turned Gu-Gu’s outlaw mystique into a global brand. They sponsored cheeky reality TV cameos (a Real Housewives of Patagonia episode famously featured a tipsy goat crashing a garden party), and marketed Gu-Gu as an adventurous blend of heritage and mischief. Today, Gu-Gu Juice has fully woven itself into Western pop culture – a historic hooch with one foot in Patagonian legend and the other in every weekend’s celebration. From upscale bars in London to the lively Montezuma Weekend festivals, Gu-Gu continues to slosh around in punch bowls and fuel tall tales, never losing its tongue-in-cheek legend status.