The First Rain

The next tasting session came about after a visit to one of the more 'hip' former villages in Barcelona, 'Gracia'.

Gracia a long old walk from where our apartment is, roughly in a place called 'Born'. Straightforward as it is, up one long road, passed some sights and there you are, it is a great distance to travel not on horseback. Or some kind of modern day transportation like a bicycle or bus or car or even on the horrendously humid metro system.

Avoiding La Rambla, opting for a parallel road in the South East – North West streets. La Rambla can be likened to Oxford Street in London, England spliced with Camden High Street by some evil scientific mastermind trying to take over the world. Full of tourists, full of shops both good and pointlessly crap, ticket vendors and hoards of pickpockets. The ignorant and unsuspecting journey-persons nightmare. Best avoided at all times if you ask me. Maybe worth a bit of a gander at about 3am when it comes alive, a spectacle full of some of the most hideous prostitutes you could ever imagine. The ones from the 1990 film 'Total Recall' look like the sex symbols of the Hollywood golden age in comparison. Add to that the weather and human beaten tramps caked in their own excrement and drunken youths and vomiting backpackers. It becomes a people watchers paradise if freaks and weirdos are what you are searching for.

Along the route we stopped off to admire one or more of the spectacular works of art often confused with architecture by the famous and wonderful 'Antonio Gaudi'. The main piece or building of interest was the 'Segrada Familia'. His last work and legacy that was left incomplete for years after and even still to this day it remains a long ongoing construction. Rumour has it that as he stepped back to admire this cathedral, gazing upon it in full view, he was mowed down by a tram or coach. A heavy wheeled vehicle. Sad as it is, it has become one of the most popular and famous landmarks in Barcelona if not the whole of Spain.

I'd seen it a few times before but never like this. Whole sections looked alien, new, shiny, white. A completely different colour stone to the original structure. Less aged, cleaner, still unaffected by pollution, altogether different to the rest in style as well as the materials used.

Stopping off to catch a moments rest in the shade by the small man-made lake to the north of the building. I caught myself staring in bewilderment at a couple taking what easy could have been more than 1TB of of photos of one another or 'selfies' together. Some were so over the top and cringe-worthy that I couldn't contain myself and got up to replicate their exact movements and poses taking the piss in a more comical and incredibly exaggerated way. I think they may have realise as they left in a bit of a hurry, but it did take them a while. They'd been at it for what felt like an hour, maybe more. Who knew, the extreme heat altered the state of time.

We followed suit shortly after. Prolonged exposure to the sun had left us weak, fuzzy, hungry and thirsty.

Well past the half way point now, it wouldn't be long until we were wandering the back streets of Gracia seeking out a place to eat and drink. Admiring the colonial Spanish style or architecture with scattered but tasteful graffiti.

It was hot, really hot. Water just wasn't doing anything to quench my thirst. It was warmed from being out in the light, flat, and not wet enough. I needed a beer, I demanded an ice cold Pale Ale. I desperately required the refreshing life giving qualities that such beers so often possess.

After a meal of fairly average yet highly overpriced tapas washed down with a weak and pissy lager, my demands were finally met.

Saviour came in the shape of a craft beer shop, 'Bodega Del Sol', across the square from where we ate our unsatisfactory lunch. A bottle shop like no other I'd visited before. I was more excited than a randy male dog seeing a bitch on heat. I could barely contain myself. Fortunately I have more self control than I give myself credit for as I postponed what could have been a messy and embarrassing experience. The selection of beer was vast, so vast in fact that it nearly put my shop to shame. Somehow they seemed to have a larger selection of rare beers from the USA, a big Belgian and Dutch section and hundreds from Spain, Catalunya and Barcelona. Some I'd heard of but most were new to me.

The shop was amazing. When my friend explained it to me a while ago, I had no idea what it would actually be like. It surpassed all my expectations of it. How could something so great exist somewhere that seems relatively new to the whole craft beer thing? Like the mammals in Australia that evolved completely separately to their ancestors on the other of the worlds more accessible continents.

Partly due to the fact it was air conditioned and very cold, but mainly it was because the amazing selection of beer was so damn good, I wouldn't leave.

More than ten minutes had passed and I was still empty handed.

I carefully selected half a dozen beers to take back to the apartment for an unplanned tasting session on a later date and a couple for drinking at that very moment.

I had a bottle of an IPA with a picture of a cat or fox on the label. 'Guineu Amarillo IPA' from Catalunya, Spain. That really sorted me out. It filled every crevice of my mouth with its dry but refreshing wetness. My mouth went from feeling like the dried and cracked surface of some African Savannah, once a river flowed through giving life to many animals, now all was left was a valley slicing through the centre of many small veiny trenches. As soon as the beer touched the surface of my tongue a visionary explosion took place. Heavy rain drops falling all around, rapidly filling the dried river bed, turning into a once again fast flowing uncontrollable mass of life giving and at the same time destructive body of water. Bursting at the banks, spilling out into all the surrounding cracks flowing out as far as the horizon in all directions. In moments the dried and chapped surface of my tongue was once again a soft moist bed ready for what life can throw at me.

Lots of beers and distributors of some great brewing equipment

calarenys

Facebook page for one of the greatest bottle shops I've ever visited

https://www.facebook.com/bodegadelsol1

I Never Knew Cats Were Vegan?

Such a good forward planner that I am, I'd looked online for some craft beer pubs/bars in Barcelona before we'd left. I found a few in close proximity to where we were staying. A craft beer pub and vegan restaurant, perfect for the veggie among us.

We'd passed the place before but like most non-shit pubs and bars in Barcelona, it was closed. It would open shortly so a casual stroll around the block would kill enough time until it did.

We never made it to that session.

When we did make it in, the front bar area was full but an empty seated dining area at the back was available. Tables and chairs in the far end of the pub away from anyone and anything. Thankfully as we walked towards the end a table of happy customers got up to leave. The now vacant space was a high and precariously placed shelf above what looked like a fully functional motorbike. A Ducati with the 'Du' and 'I' removed spelling out 'Cat', the name of the bar.

Upon closer inspection, the shelf was not in fact attached to the bike but correctly fixed to the wall.

A more suitable seated area around a table opened up for us so we grabbed the opportunity and sat down. In doing so we all chipped in and passed the dirty crockery and glassware to the barman behind the counter. Sitting around a proper table on chairs and not stools felt better, we or I was more at ease with this new set up.

When it came to ordering, there was massive confusion. I don't know if it was due to our tiredness and constant drunkenness or the language barrier or anything to try and justify how momentarily stupid we were. A selection of 9 draught beers, on a tasting flight consisting of all 9. Without knowing what ones either of us would like the most I ordered one. Thinking we were going to receive a flight each but only one came out. For more than a minute I was baffled. If you've ever seen a dog looking for a stick that was never thrown, that was how I felt at that very point in time. In reality only one between the three of us made much more sense. Having a small taste of each then deciding which one we preferred and having it.

Ranging from Pales, Lagers and Porters, there was a good selection. There was a gorgeous IPA brewed by a few Turkish immigrants who met on the streets of Barcelona. A mix of organic and ecologic ingredients from all over coming together to create an amazingly tasty new world style IPA. 'Hoppala' a beautiful drop from the 'Zula Brewing Collective'. Crisp, hints of tropical fruit and a mellow bitter finish, a delight in the mouth. Of course I ordered one of them.

Also a gorgeous Pale from 'Condal'. What is better than being in good company, drinking delicious beer and being able to admire possibly the most beautiful barmaid I ever did lay my eyes upon.

I'm informed by my veggie chum that they serve tasty vegan food along with a fantastic selection of beers.

cervesacondal

zulabrewing

Oh, I forgot that after seeing a bottle of a Smoked Pepper IPA. Seeing something like that in the fridge how could I not give it a go. A collaboration between Espiga and VandeStreek. An IPA with a lot of citrus and a complex smoky finish. A decent IPA with added 'Smoke'. 'Papr'IPA' was its name.

espiga

Will It Ever Open!

Across the road, if you could even call it a road, more like a large path with cars, bikes and pedestrians all fighting for its use. Well, across from our apartment, literally, a couple of metres from the front door was a craft beer bar. Fantastic for us but with one very annoying problem, it never seemed to be open.

Morning, noon, early afternoon (siesta time) evening and even at night, it was never open. The 'graffed' up shutters remained permanently shut throughout the Earths daily orbit of the sun and seemingly the moons orbit of the Earth.

Beginning to lose faith that it would never open, we almost gave up on it. In actual fact I don't even know if the others really cared about it, perhaps it was only my little heart that was aching.

After nearly a whole day walking around Barcelonetta searching for some decent tapas, it was like we'd been walked all day long in the blistering sun, through narrow streets, past the sweetest smelling doorways and windows. Finally our search for food was over, our hunger being teased by a few morsels of food, lots of little plates with bits and bobs on. Looking barely enough to fill even a child let alone a group of fully grown adults ravaged with starvation.

Every single bite however small was received with delight by all, such simple things like Padron peppers fired until almost charred and bursting and then sprinkled with sea salt before serving. Deep fried baby squid in a deliciously seasoned batter, crispy, salty and with incredible strong flavours of the ocean. There were these plain looking olives in a jar of dense cloudy liquid with a slightly red tint, I can tell you they were certainly not plain olives, they packed so much flavour it was unbelievable. An explosion of flavour in the mouth, the odd one had a subtle and creeping kick of chili, like a ninja hiding in the shadows, it snuck up and slapped you on the tongue with a burning blow. If it were a cold and damp day one could possibly see steam jetting out of ones ears, like in the cartoons.
Everywhere does this differently, but the bread. The bread, simple bread, none of that fancy 'sourdough' or 'rye' stuff. Lightly toasted, rubbed with fresh sun drenched tomatoes and olive oil, seasoned with a little salt and pepper. It was beyond amazing. Unfortunately the bread in this place we ate was a slight disappointment. The rest of the food was probably the best that we'd had but the bread was burned and had barely any flavour, flavour strong enough to mask the carbon taste.
Apart from the bread all the other little bits were amazing, so bloody good.

On the way back to our apartment, I suddenly got a craving for beer. Which isn't than unusual but with only Estrella Damm in the fridge, I wanted to venture to new pastures and try one of the many craft beer establishments that Barcelona has to offer.

Trying to organise three other not particularly like minded men was a challenge to say the least. In actual fact it was an epic failure. My dreams of drinking even the smallest sip of a fancy little Spanish craft beer had been crushed.

A couple of hours passed, we'd all showered, one of the group had left to check out a band that were on earlier than we could all be bothered to get to the festival site. It was about an hour train ride from where we were. The fridge was now empty of beer, I'd eaten my fill of jamon, queso and papas fritas. It was time to leave.

In need of a refreshing palate cleanser, something sharp, with tang and bite, something with acid to cut through all the fat in my gut. I went for a little treat 'Calypso' a Berliner Weisse from Siren, England. I know, English beer in Spain at s Spanish craft beer bar. I made that worse when I ordered 'My Antonia' an Italian Imperial Pils. Seeing it on tap I just could not let that opportunity go. Not knowing if I'd ever see it again, ordering the best Imperial Pils in the World most definitely had to be done. After drinking so much crap piss poor beer, these were a real delight.

After they'd finished with 'Antonia' and I on my tart little princess, we all had a half of some very sepcial beer with a name that didn't quite make sense. 'As Bastard Joker', an Imperial/Double IPA of incredible bitterness and a stratospherically high abv of 11.1%. Not the strongest beer I've ever tried but still damn strong and damn fine. My first 10%+ IPA and it was a right old treat.

Sipping on some fine beer is a wonderful way to get pumped up for a long night of banging tunes, dancing and having to deal with crap beer.

Can't seem to find a website but these guys have Twitter and the bar is number 22 here...
bestbarseurope

The place to find joking bastards
ascervesa

sirencraftbrew

birradelborgo

Click here on on 'Antonia' to read a post about some great Italian craft beers including My Antonia

Tasting in Spain #1

Not knowing much about the Barcelona/Catalan/Spanish craft beer scene, I thought the best way to get to try some was to go out and buy some beers and so I did. Having no overblown or any kind of false expectations of grandeur about what the beers and the beer scene might be like set me up for an unbiased holiday combined with beer tasting sessions. It wasn't to be anything like reading a boom and loving it, hearing a film adaptation is being and a huge excitement and hype building about it. Then you watch said film and it's an awful waste of money, one big disappointment. There was to be none of that here, I had no idea what I was in for.

Even in the local 'supermarkets', what we would normally call corner shops or convenience stores, you could find a fairly large selection of beer and quite a few of them being craft beer from local or domestic breweries. I picked four off the shelf to take back to our cool and shabby Barcelona apartment that we were renting for our week stay. Most of them were Pales but one was a rather special thing, a beer made using sea water. I'd seen and heard of that one in the UK but never tried a beer actually using water from the ocean, would it be like a German style 'Goze'?

We started with a cheeky monkey of a Pale. A light, crisp and refreshing Pale Ale, the perfect place to start. The pink and blue faced monkey dancing around in my mouth, exciting the lumpy little taste buds on my tongue. The Mandrill didn't last long and quickly disappeared down my neck and into the uninhabitable acidic dungeon that is my stomach.

The next beer took ages to find what it was, I'd forgotten to write down it's name or anything. All I had to tell me what it was, was the memory of the tasting and a photo that cut off half the label so I couldn't even read what it was. Was it Corlaco, Borlaco, no, it was 'Morlaco'. Thank goodness for Twitter and its follow recommendations.

Having a big angry bull on the label was a nice touch on a beer coming from Pamplona, Spain. If you're unfamiliar with Pamplona, it is the town where idiots run through the narrow and windy streets. Running for their dear lives and respect and sanity, away from a raging bull that would happily tear them limb from limb with his razor sharp horns and neck strong enough to flip a small car. Years and years of this treatment has caused the bulls to evolve with a particular hatred and blood-lust towards humans. They no longer need a red tablecloth to anger them and use as a target. Unlike the Great White shark which commonly mistake surfers for seals, these bulls know perfectly well what and what isn't a human.

I'm not enough of a thrill seeking retard to attempt to outrun an angry blood thirsty bull. Especially as I have a slight fear of cows.

'Navarreria' is an American Pale Ale. Again, like a lot of the other Pales in Spain in the American style, it is darker than other New World Pales or the Pales that have sprung up all over England. It was toasty, floral and surprisingly light.

A beautiful, elegant, voluptuous bottle awaits. Given the right lighting conditions and a little bit of misdirection. The bottle could quite easily be mistaken for an actress like Sofia Lauren in her heyday. She's even been named 'La Bella Lola'. 

An elegant bottle filled with golden liquid so beautifully seductive it does more than just arouse your tongue. A light Golden Ale managed to hold its own after a couple of Pales. Labelled as a 'Mediterranean Blonde Ale' maybe somebody like Rita Heyworth of Jayne Mansfield would have been more suitable.

Perhaps leaving he salt water beer until the end was a bad idea but what would it be like. Was it full of flavour and aroma, a big bold beer. Only one way to find out so we opened it up and tried it. 'Er Boqueron', a beer brewed using water from the sea in Valencia.

It is a light blond beer but the salty water works some magic giving it a much fuller and smoother mouth feel. It is a very sessionable beer. I can and the website assures that it is 100% safe. Any nasty stuff would have been burned to death during the boil in the brewing process.

A good afternoon session of semi structured beer drinking, time to go and check out some great live music.

erboqueron

morlacobeer

mandrilbeer

The people who brought us 'La Bella Lola'

barcelonabeercompany

Pre Barcelona, Barcelona Warm Up

With a trip to Barcelona only a few days away, the perfectly timed arrival of a couple of Spanish craft beers hailing from Barcelona, what better thing to do to prepare then drink some decent Spanish beer.

I'd heard of Edge Brewing in passing conversations with brewers and beer geeks but hadn't come across any, let alone tried some. Until now.
We'd recently added a couple to the shops assortment. The two were; 'Hoptimista' an American IPA and 'Flor de la Vida', an American Pale Ale. I picked a bottle of each to try after work.

I was going to a BBQ at a friends so thought it'd be wise to pick up a few more beers.

Being a cyclist, there's nothing I hate more than wind. Especially when it is a head wind that never lets up and always seems to be blowing against you. A wind so fierce and powerful it makes the simplest and shortest ride a leg destroying marathon of a cycle. That night happened to be a windy one. Riding over 11 miles from the shop to the party destination, I was shattered and thirsty.

The more regularly drunk beer went first, Beavertown's 'Gamma Ray'. Once I was finished with that, I was handed a bottle of Stella. Not wanting to offend I bit my tongue and took the beer. I don't like Stella and given any other options I might have gone for something else. What could I have done though, the bloke who handed it to me was the hosts brother-in-law. I couldn't refuse, it was have been very rude of me. Instead I imagined a happy place, a fictional land filled attractive people, good music and even better beer pouring out of fountains and springs, the sun shining and the cold beer flowing, ah... heaven. A small part of me died as I sank every last drop in a quick as time as possible.

I went to my bag and opened it up, there they were, the two Spanish gems. Eni Meni Mini Mo wasn't necessary for me to make a decision of which one to choose. I went for the lighter, less boozy 'Flor de la Vida' American Pale. Then onto the IPA.

Flor de la Vida is a lighter and lower abv American style Pale Ale. Slightly darker than some other new world style pales. I don't know if the name confused me but it wasn't as floral as I was expecting. For some reason I was imagining being slapped in the face by a bouquet of citrussy and floral hops. A similar kind of sensation one might get walking past a Jasmine bush in full bloom. It was a decent Pale but in comparison to its big brother (or sister) 'Hoptimista', it was a wee baby.

Hoptimista is a gorgeous IPA and very easy to drink. Not too high in alcohol and with intense hop aromas that keep giving. If these are the kind of beers that Spain and Barcelona has to offer then that just makes me even more excited.

When I saw that the beers had been put in the USA Beers section at the shop, I wondered what ever possessed my colleague to do that. It makes perfect sense now. Not only was there any space in the German/Italian/Other European section but... but the brewery was founded by two Americans and both beers are of the American style.

edgebrewing

look out for the Edge Brewing beers in the USA Beers section
realale

A Baby Cow

I had one of my regular and overwhelming cravings for a real fat, meaty, juicy and very greasy burger but wasn't sure of where and when to get one. Where would fill the spot and satisfy my hunger. After thinking about it over a cup of tea, a 'Tiny Burger' from Forty Burgers at Craft Beer Co N1 was perfect. A greasy double stack of meaty goodness topped with more salty bacon and cheese. It was the meat, fat and salt combination that I desired so much.

It was a damn shame the pub wasn't open. Maybe it was a Thursday, or could it have been a Wednesday. Either way it doesn't really matter as it was shut. They didn't open until the mid afternoon and it was moments after 1pm.

Salvation came in the form of a very sinister looking clown. 'The Joker of Penton St' is on a list of places to visit drink and eat. In fact it features as the place to start a proposed drinking thing/pub crawl called the 'Chapel Market Triangle'

I'd not eaten there before but the food sounded tasty and with a fancy little kitchen in the corner (complete with a flat top grill) and a comprehensive list of burgers, I can safely say it was the ideal spot.

Slight confusion over a very child menu looking menu with pictures of bears and silly names, it took a while to realise it was in actual fact the adults menu. The only menu. The burgers had odd yet obvious names. Even now I think the idea of calling a vegetarian burger a 'Koala Bear' after the cute, furry little leaf eating marsupials. 'Angry Bear' was a burger featuring jalapeños and 'Greedy Bear' was a double stacked burger of meaty madness.

Frank being vegetarian had no choice but to eat a koala, I was spoilt for choice but with an unhealthy craving for meat I thought it best if I went for the Greedy Bear. When I saw the size of the meat patties as they were slapped onto a sizzling flat top, I was slightly fearful that I had made the wrong decision. The balls of meat were the size of grapefruits, not oranges, or satsumas but the size of a large pink grapefruit. Make that two of those balls, with a side of cheesy chips and onion rings. Possibly not the best idea.

I could see movement behind the bar. Like a dog hearing a distant sound and its ears pricking up and seemingly staring into the distance at nothing. I could see food being plated up. Meat, meat and meat. Two meat burgers were brought out to us. Some kind of mix up had taken place and instead of receiving a koala Frank was given a angry bear. He wasn't angry but explained the mix up and that he was vegetarian. The waiter/chef apologised and was about to walk off with the little meat mistake but then stopped. Just as he was about to remove this angry little thing off the table, he asked me if I wanted it. He went back to the kitchen and immediately put the koala bear on the grill. While the vegetarian disc of meatless goodness was cooking away, he prepared the cheesy chips placing them underneath the salamander grill to melt the cheese and waited as the onion ring bubbled away in the fryer.

Could I take on this unexpected meat challenge, like hell I could and was I was determined to eat every last mouthful down to the crispy little meat crumbs that had fallen from the bun in my hand and into the sauce and grease filled bowl below.

The burger(s) were amazing, so fresh, so meaty with so much naturally meaty flavour. Every bite was as exhilarating as the one before. All the meat in front of me eventually disappeared into my belly, it was like I'd eaten an entire baby cow. Not quite a calf, but a week old little baby.

Thankfully I have so many meat loving and carnivorous mates as we will most definitely be coming back again. I want more 'Burger Bears'.

I know there isn't anything about beer here but I did have a couple of pints of this drinkable beer that had been steeped with herbs. And it is a pub after all.

joker

burgerbear

Vanquishing the Toilet Demon

I've always had this almost romantic vision of St George slaying a huge, grotesque and other worldly beast of a dragon. This huge creature, covered in thick hard scales and teeth the size of lambs and wings as broad as a tall ships sails. St George, a brave patron for more than one nation. Slaying this monster, driving his spike into the animals chest and standing proud above its cold dead body with his battered shield in one hand, a bloody sword in the other and his foot on top of the dragons skull.

That romantic notion was destroyed as soon as I saw several paintings from various eras, all depicting a different story. The hero, a knight, St George slaying the ungodly and unruly beast. In most if not all the paintings, the beast turned out to be no larger than an average sized horse and quite often took the form of a snake. What happened to this big dragon larger than a double decker bus, who decided the dragon would be no larger than a horse.

If there was anything remotely religious or patriotic about me, I would have been devastated, dealt a crushing blow with my imagination getting the better of me. But I'm not. The creature I'd assumed was as big as a mountain and devoured men like a child eating popcorn, burning entire villages to the ground in a similar scale to us starting a small bonfire. It was all a lie.

The hero who slain the toilet demon was not a piece of fiction. This brave individual tackled masses of human excrement in the form of a solid brown snake. The hero slaughtered the big brown beast making life a safer and more pleasant place. Life being the interior of the 'Euston Tap' and the metaphorical toilet demon happened to be a leaky drainage pipe coming from the upstairs toilets, seeping through the ceiling and causing an horrific stench throughout the establishment.

Not only had this demon been vanquished, in its place was now peace, calm, beauty, serenity, the picturesque vision of deer and birds feeding gracefully by the shore a peaceful lake.

Sanity had been restored. Life once again held value. No fictitious dragons or scaly horse/snake like creatures needed to be harmed.

Without the putrid stench of death and disappointment, the place had a very different aura. Something bright, colourful, almost celebratory was in the air. It hadn't been long since I'd been back from Australia, sampling hundreds of Antipodean offerings, I craved some good English beer.. or whatever decent I could find. And find we did, Frank and I. I mentioned in a post a while ago about how fantastic an establishment the Euston Tap was and is. It still is and was a million, billion, trillion times better since the toilet demon had been slain.

Already seeing into the future with no sours, I concealed the unhappiness of my inner self by allowing my outer self to enjoy some really good beer. With a couple of mix ups, we ended up having the odd pint instead of a half. Luckily they weren't the ones that were upwards of 7%. The beer was very good so none of it went to waste, it just meant that overall we drank a lot more.

Frank had a couple of Stouts, and I was on a Red IPA, a Pale, more IPAs, anything, everything. I was glad to be back in England and what a fine place to announce that and come to terms with it. I did try this oddly sounding beer, a 'White Chocolate IPA' from Summer Wine Brewery. It stood out to me, big white lettering on a black board, white in white. I had a half of it and wasn't that taken by it if I'm honest. In my mouth it felt and tasted unsure of what it was, it had smoothness and sweetness but wasn't what I had expected or wanted in an IPA. It did have the buttery oiliness you get in white chocolate due to the fat content of the cocoa butter. It was in no way horrible, far from. All I'm saying is that I personally didn't enjoy it. They do make some amazing Pales and other IPAs that are definitely worth sampling, and their branding is brilliant.

My penultimate drink of the night was 'Liquid Monstrous', an Imperial Red IPA from one of the most experimental and brave breweries in the UK, Siren. I'd had it before and knew exactly what I was getting into, a 7.4% beer that would do more than hit the spot.

Originally I wasn't looking forward to being back but after drinking with Frank, enjoying good beer and great conversation, things were looking up. Time to leave, and I readied myself by putting on my 'High Viz' cycling jacket and zipping it up. Just as we were about to leave, Frank decided he'd go for a wee, partly out of desperation and curiosity. He'd never been upstairs before, I hadn't until that evening either. He ascended the most elaborately and beautifully decorated wrought iron spiral staircase I'd ever seen. It was a sight to behold, a piece of Victorian engineering at its finest. So nice in fact that I would be happy to have it as some kind of focal piece in my house if I ever get one. The only toilets in the place were the naughty little buggers that had caused so much grief beforehand.

While he was up there I took the opportunity to have a 'cheeky' half waiting for his return. The barmaid obliged, served me one and there I was, another half pint in hand. Moments away from drinking it. It took me so long to acknowledge what had happened that I still had half my half left when Frank appeared.

eustontap

sirencraftbrew

summerwinebrewery

A Beer Adventure Down Under (iii, b)

A pub I mentioned before and one from an older post, 'The KB Hotel', used to be terrible. With the usual piss poor excuses for beer on tap, full of horrific locals and dirty prostitutes, now boasted more beers than you can count on your hands and feet. Too many beers to mention and changing so frequently it is impossible to keep up. Owned by the same people as another fine establishment, 'The Dove and Olive'.

An unassuming and quite traditional looking Irish pub, 'The Trinity Bar' looked plain and a bit poo from the outside. Inside was wall resembling a fake library and all in all looking rather tacky. It actually ended up being a really good pub, again with many beers on tap and some particularly fine examples like 'Fredericks Hop Cannon' from 'New England Brewing Co'. More craft beers and some of the older regular examples that the locals love so much. It is pubs like this that really make the beer scene in Australia different to that in England.

A corner pub that I remember visiting a fair amount when I lived in Australia was 'TheLocal Taphouse'. A beer pub through and through. So many beers or tap they actually have a daily menu so that staff and customers can keep track. I went in on an abnormally rainy day. The weather was so shit outside yet I didn't let it get me down so I cracked on and ordered a tasting paddle of beers from all over the world. A point that has to be mentioned is that this pub had a beer from world renowned Danish brewery 'To Øl'. A beer with a wonderful name, 'Mine Is Bigger Than Yours'. Having that beer itself is enough to consider this to be one of the great pubs in the whole craft beer scene and made better by the fact this place was doing the same thing three years ago. A place that truly has done everything in the world to showcase craft beer and they've done an excellent job at that. I tried a 'Peated Pale' for the first time, from a Melbourne based brewery, 'Killer Sprocket'. A Lambic style fruit beer from a New South Wales brewery, 'Bacchus Brewing Co'. And a Brown Ale from 'Six String Brewing Company'. It wasn't the best Brown Ale I've ever tried but still bloody good, I can only imagine their other beers are as good if not better.

The Local or Local Taphouse is one of those special places that no matter how expensive it is, you'll always find yourself going back for more. Unusually catering for large groups of Stags/Bucks or even Hens and serving up some delicious food, all with one of the greatest assortments of beer across all of Australia.

Similar to the Trinity Bar and KB Hotel, somewhere in North Sydney that from the outside looks like a traditional pub and taking the briefest of moments to look on in astonishment at the clientèle and how drop dead gorgeous every female member of staff is, you begin to notice the craft beers on tap. Then your eyes wonder off and follow someone, then back to the bar, then off again as you notice in the corner of your eye some bar legs and a handful of dirty glasses. When you finally examine the beers on tap you are taken aback. Astonished, how and why would a place like this have so many decent craft beers on tap. Along with serving some of the best top crust pies I've had, actually, I'd go as far to say that the Beef and Guinness Pie was the best top crust pie I have ever had. So meaty, juicy and yum. A beer like 'Hangmans Pale' from the 'Rocks Brewing Company' isn't going to blow your socks off but with it being so easy to drink and packed full of hoppy goodness, it is delight to have in a glass.

Drawing closer to the time I had to leave, a few places of significance and importance had to be visited and deserve a mention. A German/Alpine restaurant, 'Una's' in Darlinghurt had the BEST schnitzel I have ever tried. No word of a lie they are beyond amazing and great value considering the higher than normal price tag. It is BYO so you can bring your own wine or after a quick look at the drinks menu, chose a beer from the list. Strangely most of the beers on the list were from a brewery '2 Metre Tall' in Tasmania. All in the natural style and most having a slight sour tang. We had the 'Derwent' as it was the only one left. All the ones we'd asked for were out and the waitress just brought this one over and opened it. Optimistically I might say as we hadn't asked for it and could have turned it down. A good thing we didn't as it was possibly the best beer I'd had in Australia. After forcing myself to drink sour beers over the last few months, I had built up an appreciation and longing for them. I cannot have a session without one now. That is how much I admire them. I can't quite handle the full blown sugar free Lambics. I did have the fruit Lambic the other day but the sourness was mellowed by the addition of fruit. Derwent was something else. Not a true sour but a beer made using spelt and spelt having a slight sour tang to begin with. Their production method must be so natural that they almost taste like wildly fermented beers and are spectacular beyond belief. I really do want to see them in the UK. Even with them costing over $10 for a 500ml bottle, maybe after shipping and tax and all that they might reach a hefty price tag of maybe £15, they are more than worth it. If only you could get them here.

So, one of the special events that takes place once a month or however frequent it is at the 'Dove and Olive', is a thing called a 'Craft Beer Fight Club'. An event where two brewers or breweries enter two beers each into a face to face challenge. I went to one of these and to be honest left feeling cheated, disappointed. The beers were good apart from one example that was worse than any home brew I've had or made. The others were really good though so they kind of made up for the bad ones inadequacy. The night was poorly organised and full of drunken plums. A noisy bunch of idiots seated directly behind where I was sitting and other the course of the evening, getting louder and more annoying almost forcing me to ram an empty glass down one or more of their throats. A 'Hefe' and 'Pale' from 'Moo Brew', Tasmania stood out as great beers. Along with the 'Redhopulous Maximus' from 'Hop Dog Beer Works' from New South Wales. It was an eventful night but not one I think I'll ever attend again. I'd rather drink each of the beers in peace and make up my own mind about them.

Another unassuming bistro pub, 'The Shakespeare Hotel' in Surry Hills looks bad and a place to avoid from outside and downstairs but upstairs is different. A rather cool and quirky bistro serving famous $12.50 mains and craft beers on tap.

I tried this beer called 'Norman' from a brewery 'Yullis'. I happened upon the Yullis restaurant on Crown St in Surry Hills one evening. The beers there were good, really good. Norman, a great Aussie Ale and the Vanilla Porter. The Porter snuck its way into my top list of Porters. I don't know the name but it had a silly caricature of an office worker or something like that on the label. All Yullis beers are good and the place itself looks great, smells great and is almost enough to turn a meat eater like myself into a vegan.

The last place I visited was the little tucked away craft beer bar. Secretly nestled in an upstairs room on a horribly dirty patch of Oxford St in Surry Hills. The amount of times I missed the sign trying to find it as I walked past. Me and my bro finally went in one night after a big session of drinking. It was amazing. More closely resembling a craft beer pub or bar that you might see in some London back street. It was cool, hip, trendy, however you want to describe it. Very welcoming and with a beer selection similar in greatness and diversity to that at the Local. 'Bitter Phew' is one of those places that will soon be massive but I feel will retain its cool its character and do wonders in further increasing Australia's love for craft beer. They even have a selection of beers on their way from a brewery regarded as being the finest in the world, 'Hills Farmstead' form Vermont, USA. I mean, you don't even see many if any of their beers here and their doing a takeover kind of thing at a small craft beer bar in Sydney. That explains a lot about what is actually happening in the craft beer scene in Australia.

Overhearing a conversation about Guinness in Australia doesn't really say much about craft beer or the beer scene in general, it was just an interesting thing I overhead. How this group of men had taken such a love to Guinness that they were willing to seek out every single Guinness that was available for sale in the greater Sydney area. They had even created a spreadsheet to evaluate the Guinness' they had. It is something like that that shows at what lengths Australians are taken to spread the word of beer and their individual and group appreciation for craft beer and beer in general.

I think there is something we can learn about the craft beer scene in Australia. Even if in my opinion, the beers coming out of England are better, what is happening down under is something that I think we should take note of.

A few links to breweries to name a few

rocksbrewing  

2mt

yullis

moobrew

A Beer Adventure Down Under (iii, a)

How and where to begin, I'm unsure really. The easiest place to start I imagine would be at the beginning. This is not an essay as such but a summarised story of the events that took place on my recent visit to Australia. I think a good way to do this and to keep it concise would be to have it in a roughly chronological order simply mentioning the beers I have had and the places I had them.

The first beers I had when I arrived, almost the moment I sat down after walking through the apartment door was a beer from New Zealand Brewery 'Moa'. A session Pale. The next was another session ale from 'Gage Roads' another on of the up and coming breweries that was around when I was last in Australia. They appeared to have grown massively in the time that I've been gone. It still strikes me as being odd that Kiwi beers are so readily available in the UK but Australian ones are not. There is only a short flight between the two countries and I would imagine roughly the same shipping channels. Why then are Australian beers not as common in England?

Another good brewery that didn't seem to exist last time I was in Australia was 'Feral Brewing Company'. They produce a Smoked Porter that is good enough to rival the likes of our home grown 'Beavertown' or the American giant 'Stone'. Feral have a selection of fabulous beers to excite the taste buds of any person and suit any palate. I only got to try a few of their beers but the ones I had were basically faultless, so with that in mind I imagine the others in the range to be equally as good and some of the special limited brews to be unreal.

Then came 'The RoyalAlbert'. It happened to be on the same block as the apartment I was staying in Surry Hills and with a combination of having brilliant beers and a chatty and knowledgeable bar man, became my regular. It was pricey but you get what you pay for with that place. I arrived the week after a tap takeover from one of the best breweries I tried beers from, 'The Black Dog Brewery'. They had Saisons, Pales, IPAs, and a particularly fine and extra strong Double IPA. Then in the same session I had to try my first experience of an Australian hand pull, 'Hargreaves Hill', ESB. Hand pulled beers are commonplace in the UK and are occasionally seen in American, in Australia they are so new, so so new. Newer than a moment old baby. They are getting quite common in Australia now and can be seen in many craft beer pubs and even some regular looking pubs from bigger pub companies. It was a very good attempt at recreating a very traditional British style bitter with many similarities. I hadn't come to Australia to try their version of an English beer. I wanted something Australian. I finished that session with a Berliner Weisse from the same brewery and named 'Small Beer' which I haven't got a clue about. It was expressive of that style and a perfect representation of a sour beer. 4 pines had their Stout on. An Irish style dry Stout with lots of burnt toast and rich maltiness.

I had to go back to my favourite bottle shop in the whole of Sydney. When I stayed with my brother all those years ago, I used to go there regularly and buy whatever they had that took my fancy. It was amazing to see how many craft beers they had from all over Australia and even the world. I couldn't peel my eyes off a Saison from 'The Brooklyn Brewery' from America. I didn't get it but will one day give it a go. I got two beers from a brewery named '2 Brothers'. An appropriate name for a couple of beers for two brothers. The beers themselves had brilliant names, ''James 'Belgian' Brown' and a Porter that I can't remember the name of. Great beers, great brewery and like I keep saying, the best or my favourite bottle shop in Sydney.

Then came a little pub crawl going back over my old haunts. The East Sydney Hotel, a place I will forever mention always with a selection of decent beer, had a selection of decent beers. That was where I was introduced to 'Modus Operandi' another amazing brewery and one of the best in Sydney. All of their beers have impressed, every single one. I want more, I want them in England now! I had my first introduction of both hand pulled and tap beer or the same variety. 'Young Henry's' 'Real Ale'. A kind of best bitter style beer with a rich and complex malt body and strong hop notes. Everything you want in a craft style best bitter. Young Henry's are one of the more popular and hip breweries of the moment in Sydney. They make great beer and have a cool bar at the brewery. They have nailed the scene and have lest what looks like it will be a permanent mark.

Of course I went back to my old place of work, 'The Hollywood Hotel' or Hotel Hollywood. There were always a couple of crafty beers on with one permanent one being the classic, 'Coopers Pale'. A beer that is always one to go back to and enjoy again and again and again. It was good to see it was still there and that Marc, the manager had introduced another craft beer. 'Moon Boy' from Murray's. A brewery from the wine country. They make good beers and have such a broad spectrum, they are worth checking out for sure.

I took a trip to Newtown with the intention of visiting the Young Henry's brewery. I tried many decent beers that day, from 'The Cricketers Pale' a Pale expressing all the qualities of a great Aussie Pale. Fruit, citrus, hops in abundance and a clean crisp finish. The are owned by 'Asahi' but even with that fact, they still produce great beers. Maybe there is hope for the likes of 'Goose Island' in Chicago, USA or 'Stone', California, who may or may not have been bought out.

It was that day where I got to try some truly memorable beers. A Milk Stout from 'Batch Brewing Co' and a beer so out of the ordinary and tasty and verging on spirituous, a Porter that had been aged in barrels that previously contained spiced rum. 'Holey Porter' from 'Shenanigans Brewing'.

I got to try some good beers and one not so good raspberry Stout at Young Henry's. I mean, the fruity Stout might be popular for some, I just am not partial to that style. Their other beers were really good and even the 'Natural Lager' is a light and incredibly refreshing beer that is perfect after or for a long session. Another of note is their 'Hop Ale'.

One of my favourite beers of the whole trip was a Belgian Pale that had some resemblance to a traditional Farmhouse Ale, 'Florette' by 'La Sirene'. Unquestionably one of the best breweries in Australia and producing some of the best beers I tried there.

A Beer Adventure Down Under (ii)

Picture this in your head, the earliest life form on the Earth, splitting into two, then doubling again and again and again. Those simple single celled organisms becoming ever more complex, former cell structures and eventually coming together as tissues and then organisms in even more complex creatures. The first form of creatures to move on the Earth were in the acidic and blisteringly hot oceans that once covered almost the entire surface. At a stage where things began to cool and more and more varied life existed, there formed the bacterium we now know and love and refer to as Yeast. Yeast, the most vital component in the production of alcohol. Without the humble simple organisms, the sugars and other starches would not be converted into alcohol and carbon dioxide. This could go on for ever but I'll simply used the analogy of the creations and formation of life or the simple celled organisms. Imagine Australian beer or breweries as these very organisms. Once there were only a few then in no time at all there were millions. Obviously there still aren't millions of breweries or brewers to that matter but they all seemingly appeared out of nowhere. No that many are established and/or expanding or changing, it can be likened to the evolution of the simple organisms to the more complex.

That might seem like a ridiculous analogy but I think it quite accurately represents what happened in the life and development of Australia's craft beer scene. Like fungal spores leaving the parent, younger brewers left bigger companies to form small or micro breweries of their own. With a big gap waiting to be filled, the ones that produced decent beers quickly grew into something great, something know, something you might find in the odd bottle shop around the cities in Australia. 4 Pines in Manly and Sydney Brewery in Surry Hills. Both with humble micro brewery beginnings, one as a brew pub and the other a micro brewery/bar. The popularity of the smaller brewers rapidly grew with the more trendy pubs quickly snapping their beers up. The thing that seems to be the case in Australia, or Sydney in particular is the whole thing of fads or trends. Sydneysiders seem to latch on to something that was once 'cool' and overuse it and eventually destroy it making it redundant and beyond being uncool, something you wouldn't be seen dead talking about or thinking of. Thankfully this was not the case with craft beer. Differing slightly to the whole coffee scene, it grew and actually gathered so much momentum that like a huge snowball growing ever larger, it collided with big breweries and pub companies and an explosion of such great magnitude happened. Back to the evolutionary analogy, like the meteor that supposedly wiped out the dinosaurs. This explosion of micro breweries, big boys and pub companies did not destroy the scene or make it uncool. What it did was make the whole thing a hell of a lot more accessible. It brought craft beer to the masses. The scene continued to grow underground and above ground in the public eye and the two occasionally cross paths. This crossing of paths is beautiful. Holding more beauty than any orchid from the remotest parts of Asia and possessing so much power and control that it quite literally took hold of the nation, Hipsters, oldies, young people, suits, everybody united in a love of good beer.

The scene continued to develop and evolve. Craft beer pubs holding regular tasting events and even tap takeovers from local breweries, breweries from other states and even the odd one from breweries over seas. It seems that like the native wildlife inhabiting Australia, the beer and beer scene evolved completely separately and therefore differently to the ones in the UK and America. With so much available space, Australia has a major advantage over the UK. Property here is a premium, as is in Australia, it is just that London is so built up already and every single inch of usable space is either being used or set to be developed into housing or some kind of stupidly stylised office space. I mean, using an old shipping container as a market plot seems to me to be a bit more than pretentious.

This freedom for space in Australia and it being such a vast nation means that even places out of the city or somewhere not so cool and fancy still get noticed, recognised and quite often picked up and bough, sold or utilised.

The most recent incarnation are breweries in Sydney like 'Young Henry's' in Newtown, 'Modus Operandi' in Mona Vale, 'N.O.M.A.D' in Brook Vale among many more. Pubs like the East Sydney Hotel have always showcased these smaller, often independent craft breweries bringing them to the masses, or whoever enters their great establishment and purchases a beer. You even have places like 'Yullis' on Crown St in Surry Hills that not only creates some of the tastiest beers in Australia but also has what I'm told by a reliable source having “the best vegan food in Sydney”. Pubs and bars like 'The Royal Albert Hotel' in Surry Hills offering regular tap takeovers and some of the finest beers on the standard assortment, or 'Bitter Phew' a really trendy but openly welcoming craft beer bar hidden in a cavernous upstairs on the grubby and disgustingly trampy part of Oxford St in Surry Hills. It is amazing how a place like that remains so underground considering its location and yet at the same time is so open and nice, standing out massively in its surrounding. Then there are the bigger pubs part of larger pub companies with often a few locations like 'The Dove and Olive' or the 'KB Hotel' or 'The Trinity Hotel'. All regularly changing their assortment of some of the best beers Australia has to offer. Even places like 'The Yardarm' in Manly with its unbelievable value $8 craft beer pint happy hour, has some amazing beers. Every time I went in they had a different beer on one of the many forever changing taps. It is a fabulous thing to see. Not only are the underground places doing as much as they possibly can to promote craft beers, but the larger establishments are also getting in on the act.

The beer snob could either view this development as some kind of negative progression. Taking something really good and successful, seeing how brilliant and money making it can be and almost using it until it no longer has any meaning or worth. I can see how one might form such an opinion but I cannot share that view. I am taking the standpoint that the fact that these beers have gained so much popularity is a good thing, no, a fantastic thing. If it wasn't for the support of these places, maybe the smaller of the craft breweries, the ones that take risks and bring out experimental beers like hopped Saisons and Sours might not make it in the real world. I mean what pub in Central London that isn't a Craft Beer Co pub or doesn't have anything directly to do with a craft brewery, would you see a 'Dry Hopped Saison' or 'Sour' beer, it just doesn't really happen, if it does it is incredibly rare but an excellent thing. In Australia things are very different. I went into some pubs, looking much like any pub you would see just off a high street or near to main roads in England or elsewhere in Australia. Some of them had more than one beer from more than one craft brewery either local or from elsewhere in the country. That alone is something that is commendable. The clientèle of a place like one of those pubs is tradesmen, suits or the average Joe, yet they quite often have an amazing selection of beers.

I have began to notice new cafés springing up all over London with some stocking craft beers like 'Beavertown' or 'The Kernel'. In fact one that my friend works at in Teddington, 'The Fallow Deer' stocks several different craft beers. I may have mentioned them previously in posts about Odell's beers.

I hope you enjoyed my idea of what (might have) happened as the craft beer boom swept across Australia.

Some of these new(er) breweries and bars/pubs

younghenrys

nomadbrewingco

mobrewing

yardarm

A Beer Adventure Down Under (i)

As part of my recent trip to Australia, I thought I'd sample as many beers as possible in order to compile a list and figure out what is happening with the craft beer scene down under. With only a month give or take, and fairly limited finances I tried my best.

My adventure into antipodean beers originally began with 'Coopers Pale' in bottle about maybe 10 years ago. Then it was only right that I tried the 'Coopers Sparkling' which was directly after as the shop that they were bought from had both. At the time Coopers was such an exotic beer, there were numerous American beers, and the usual continental stuff along with some regular favourites from Belgium and Germany. Coopers however was extra special, where and when could you find an Australian beer on the shelves in England. I'd say roughly ten years ago to the present day. Things changed over the years with the introduction of 'Stone and Wood', 'Pacific Ale' and then shortly after, 'Little Creatures', Pale Ale. Drifting in and out of knowledge of beers and Australian beers to be precise, I don't know when the Little Creatures disappeared from our shelves, all I know is that it is nigh on impossible to find it in England now. Stone and Wood has fizzled away too, which is a real shame as both were exceptional beers and so different to what was available at the time. Stone and Wood is still available for purchase at shops like 'Real Ale' in Twickenham and possibly some others. I have not seen Little Creatures for a long long time but I feel it may be available somewhere. Some Coopers varieties are available in 'Real Ale' and other outlets. Hopefully they will all become more readily available and more beers will find there way over a couple of continents and onto our shelves and into our fridges.

When I left Australia three years ago to come back to the UK, the craft beer scene was on the up in a big way. Breweries like '4 Pines' and 'Little Creatures' where pretty much in one in five pubs. Coopers Pale was the craft beer of choice for most main stream pubs with the slightly fancier places choosing something a little less common like the 4 Pines or Little Creatures. In the year that I was in Sydney I saw the popularity of craft beer sky rocket. It quite literally was in the process of taking off. There were other beers and breweries such as the 'Lord Nelson Brewery' producing typically Australian Pales like 'Three Sheets', you couldn't get more Australian than that. I noticed the main beer style was either of the Lager variety or Pale Ales. The Pales differed to the ones in the UK, Australian ones having a lighter body, more pronounced hop notes and with the introduction of very punchy, tropical fruit hops like Galaxy, much much more fruit notes than the herbal and vegetal tastes you often get from classic British styles. The Australian Pales were very similar to those being produced across the Pacific in America. Not as hopped, not as boozy but in my opinion fresher feeling, lighter and more balanced. Pales being the beer of choice kind of makes sense, given the hotter climate and recent abundance of one of the tastiest hop varieties. It was an ideal situation, with so much of the market open for the taking it was theirs to get out and grab it.

In the years since I've been away, I can picture what it might have been like. This next bit is a fictitious account of what happened to the craft beer scene in Australia. It began the moment I turned my back to board my Korean Airlines flight to England (which was a very pleasurable flight with lovely food and all-you-can-drink-beer). I didn't want to go back to England and in hindsight should have really put my foot down and said 'NO', but I didn't and I went back.

4pinesbeer

littlecreatures

lordnelsonbrewery

Last Night at The Albert

My Australian holiday was coming to an end. Actually it was the last night I had left and was flying out the next day on a marathon 36 hour or so journey back to England. I was satisfied that I'd done most if not everything I wanted to do. Most of that involved relaxing and drinking lots of fine Australian beers. A month passed before me so quickly that the times seemed to vanish in a single blink of my slightly ruined left eye.

I'd spent the day catching up on some writing at 'Café 1812', the café upstairs at 'Berkelouw Books' on Oxford St in Paddington. I feel I may have mentioned it before but I can't remember exactly. I had visited before and found it difficult to find any power points so only managed to write a single post even though I needed to catch up with loads. Again I couldn't find any so predicting this drama I charged the battery until it was full so it would give me the full 100% of the time to use it. I managed to finish a couple but still had plenty more. I had a large coffee to see me through then left to start packing my things. I packed so badly when coming out to Australia that I had no space to take back any beers. I really wanted to take home some mementos of the great beers I'd had on holiday but with three jackets and a coat I had no space. Weight was not an issue, I had simply filled my bag so that it had to be sat on to close.

It was decided, the last meal was to be 'Sushi on Stanley'. A great value and delicious little sushi bar on Stanley St. I'd never been but was assured that the sushi was top quality and it was cheap as chips. The menu was clear and simple with many combo variations. I went for a chicken katsu curry combo, Dom had the same and ordered some deep fried chicken pieces. I had a salmon and avocado hand roll as something extra on the side. Nina had a sashimi combo. It was BYOB (bring your own beer) but we arrived empty handed. We had to make to with plastic tasting tap water, it was free and colder than room temperature.

Dom had arranged to meet up with P-Slatez and his fiancé after we'd eaten. They were having dumplings in the restaurant bit of The Royal Albert. Which just so happened to be the place I had arranged to meet Dan. After we finished eating we slowly walked up the hills to get to the flat. Partly because it is so hilly that if you exert yourself too much you get very tired, also because we'd eaten it was best as nobody wants to suffer from indigestion.

I went ahead directly to the pub, Dom and Nina went back to the flat to change or whatever. I didn't actually know that P-Slatez was in the pub. Dom had been messaging him and mentioned about meeting him but none of us were privy to the information that was contained within the messages. I could only assume that he would meet us after he'd eaten. I was being hassled by Dan as I had told him I'd be about ten minutes and half an hour had already elapsed.

I walked passed the dumpling section and could have sworn that I saw P-Slatez and his fiancé dining there. I know I mentioned it but this was before I actually knew he was there. I thought nothing of it. Dan had just finished the last bite of his burger when I walked into the pub. During the week in Manly, we'd missed a Stone Brewing Co, from California, USA, tap takeover at the Albert. I'm sure they would have been ridiculously expensive but beers so amazing they would have been worth the price. There were a lot of beers to chose from, I was unsure of where to start.

Dan was sorted, he didn't need a beer at that exact moment. I scanned the pump clips and settled on a Porter, a very tasty porter. It had plenty of chocolate and something sweet in it like caramel or vanilla. A bit of sugar and a bit of spice. It was delicious. When I returned to the table I saw P-Slatez saying hello to Dan. I went over and joined them. His Fiancé was going home as she had an early flight the next day so I said goodbye and good luck for the up and coming wedding which is taking place in a couple of months. P-Slatez had a sip of my beer to see what it was like. He liked it enough to go and buy himself one, as I had only recently bought mine I was okay for the time being. Shortly after that, Dan's girlfriend arrived.

She was lovely and it was so nice to have a chance to meet her before I left. A little side note here. A strange coincidence or something more, I don't know but there is something that connects these people. Maybe that connection is me, I'm like Kevin Bacon in 'The Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon' where you name an actor/actress and within six people you will reach Kevin Bacon, it's a certainty. Any way. This probably wont look anything special when written but the idea of it was quite something to me when I found it out. So... my ex girlfriend's brother is now dating a girl who works as an accountant or something for an eyewear company. Dan's girlfriend works at that company in one of the shops. Not a big deal as it is quite a large company but they both do know each other. Back in the day, the companies office was upstairs at the same store that Dan's girlfriend works. So they know each other. A friend of mine Dylan also knows Dan's girlfriend. They share a friendship group. Megan, Dan's girlfriend, it seems a bit rude to constantly refer to Megan as her or Dan's girlfriend. Megan was talking to Nina about fashion, she is in her final year of studying at the moment and really wants to get into the industry. Nina currently works in the industry and a fashion label. It probably goes on some more but for the time being that is where the connection ends here.

So when Dom and Nina arrived, Dom got me this Double Stout that was on, it was about 9% and really strong. So much flavour but it wasn't as well rounded or balanced as the previous one I had. They were both great but the weaker and sweeter of the two was easier to drink. We all conversed with one another at some point about all sorts. It was good occasionally sitting back and seeing everybody interacting in a friendly and natural way. I was happy. Good beer, good company, a strong feeling of warmth around me, at that very moment life was perfect.

After a few strong dark beers, I was in need of something more refreshing. With no sours on, the barman recommended a Saison. It naturally had a slight tang to it but was more soft and fruity than straight up sour. It wasn't perfect but did indeed refresh my palate, leaving my mouth feeling as though it had just been massaged and spent the last fifteen minutes in a jacuzzi.

Night was drawing in and the evening was almost over. I wanted to go to the Hollywood for one last time before I went back to England. Who knows when the next time I'll be in Australia is. Knowing Marc though and with it being almost 11pm on a quiet evening, I had a feeling he would have shut or wanted to close early. When we got to the door, he was standing there with a cigarette. I thought he was joking when he said it but he said that 'they were closed'. He said he'd already cleaned the bar area and removed the taps. I honestly thought he was joking and so stood for a moment looking at him, waiting for him to say, 'ah, only joking, come on in guys'. That never happened. I think the moment actually lasted longer in reality than I thought. Sometimes things like that happens so quickly in reality that nobody even notices, not a second even goes past and a whole scenario has been played out. I thought that was the case here but after being told by Dan that I stalled a while, it was clearly obvious to everyone that the micro second vision had in actual fact lasted quite a few seconds, possibly long enough for it to become awkward. I said a long goodbye to Marc, wished him the best and left. Slightly disappointed, and embarrassed. It was a bitter defeat and I needed another beer to make up for it.

The only place around that was open was 'Harpoon Harry's', formerly the Macquarie and many other names. The former home of the Sydney Brewery, one of the first brew pubs out of the current boom, now what looks like a Spanish themed pub/restaurant. They had actually tastefully redecorated inside and out. It looked the part but with a smaller selection of beer and no weekday happy hour, it was a lot quieter than it used to be. We finished up and went our ways. Saying goodbye to Dan was like seeing a child of mine go off to war. In the classic films where you see the parents waving frantically as the bus drives off into the distance, maybe they'll never see their son again. I would see Dan again for sure, with Megan I hope. They seemed like a good couple, I liked them together.

Fuck packing, I'll have to do that in the morning.

A good place to read and write and eat but you need a long battery life if you plan to use an electrical device

cafe1812

Is this the best craft beer pub in Sydney???

royalalberthotel

Across The Bridge

Loving the good weather, I went out for another bike ride. This time rather than riding around the city, popping into a pub or something local, I decided to go over the bridge to North Sydney. I didn't come to that decision easily. I spent the good part of two hours sitting in the botanical gardens thinking. Not just thinking about what to do for that day but on another day or another week and even what my plan was for when I returned to England. Part of me really wants to sort some stuff out and work out a plan to get myself back to Australia to live there permanently, the rest of me is unsure. I'm still thinking about what to do but am leaving it up to chance rather than pondering and getting worked up about it.

The sun was still out, it was really hot, too hot and sunny for me to be without shade and reading. I can only handle a little bit of sun, coming from a Mediterranean family I should be fine with the sun but it gets to me, I simply can't handle the heat. I got on my bike and rode.

Unless you're used to doing it, it can be quite confusing trying to find to entrance ramp to the cycle path side of the Harbour Bridge. It wasn't like I was riding around for an hour trying to find the most inconspicuous little entrance but it certainly wasn't signposted the best possibly way. The cycle path is on the opposite side of the bridge to the foot path. Bikes are not allowed onto the footpath. Pedestrians are definitely not allowed on the cycle path, in fact either entrance/exit is guarded by very bored looking security guards. Their politeness didn't waiver, not matter how bored they were. I received a very smiley hello, acknowledged the greeting and was on my way.

The Harbour Bridge has a very shallow gradient going up to the central peak, then the same or similar gradient on the other side. You have to really put your back into it when you're getting up but once you get other the top, you don't even need to peddle. If you do want to peddle though I would advise putting the bike into the highest gear and keeping your hands tightly on the handle bars, you do get up to some considerable speed. I forgot to check at the time but I wonder if it was fast enough to puff out your cheeks like when you stick your head out of the car window and open your mouth, allowing the wind to get in and rapidly fill you mouth with air stretching your cheeks as far as they can get without tearing. There isn't much of a view on this side. The Opera House and city view is on the footpath side. Plus there is a massive steel cage going up high, rolling over at the top with a small gap between the two sides with barbed wire at the edge. I can only assume that it is to try and prevent suicides, the bridge is big, long and very high, you wouldn't want anybody jumping off now would you. Roughly just over a kilometre end to end, it takes a good few minutes to cycle over even with the speed.

I'd been over the bridge before but never ventured into North Sydney. I had no idea where I was going. To make matters worse, it was really hot and sunny now, I was sweating profusely and my eyes were starting to sting. The sweat was running into my eyes causing a serious amount of discomfort.

It was lunch time and all the workers were out filling all of the million food courts that North Sydney seems to have. Everywhere you look there is another pedestrianised little square or walkway with cafés, restaurants and fast food vendors all along and around them. It looks like there is any cuisine to cater for the most difficult and fussy person. I wasn't in the mood for food and was lost so pulled over the the pavement, mounted it and into the shade. In the confusion of being somewhere I'd never been before, I somehow managed to miss the turning and carried on along the Pacific Highway. I must have ridden about two miles before I thought it best to stop and check a map. All it took was taking the wrong turn at a fork and I was miles away. I back tracked all the way to the fork and then took the right turn, not the left. I spoke to my brother Dom and said I'd meet him in the Rag and Famish Hotel from the other week. Not for a steak but I was really thirsty and needed to catch up on some reading and writing, any maybe drinking.

I locked my bike up across the road and went inside. When I first arrived it was packed, full of suits and lots of people resembling characters you might be more familiar with from a Brett Easton Ellis novel. I didn't blend in at all but did my best to fade into the background and sat at a stool by the window and read. I didn't really want to drink alcohol but had a mini, like really small craving for a beer. I only bought a midi and got a large glass of icy cold water to rehydrate myself. There was food everywhere around me, I was starting to get hungry. I didn't plan to eat out but as every moment went by I felt the rumbles getting larger and closer together. I held off for a while though, I wasn't hungry enough yet and it was probably too busy to eat.

The midi I bought was a Pale Ale of sorts. I can't remember what one it was all I knew was that I'd had it before and it had a relatively plain label. It was a typically great Pale, light, crisp, fruity with hints of the tropical hops I love so much. I still had some left when Dom arrived. He wasn't drinking or eating as he'd been out to some other work function thingy. He seems to have a work function almost every other day, actually in the time I was there probably more than every other day. It was more like he only had a regular day once a week. Now I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, certainly keeps you busy.

The pub was slowly emptying out leaving behind the tradesmen, old aged pensioners and me. To an onlooker I probably came across and probably still do come across as being unemployed. Maybe I was or maybe not, I was on holiday and that was all that mattered. I was relaxing and enjoying a good beer and great food. The stale smell of sweat masked by expensive aftershave lingered in the air and mixed with spilled beer and cigarette smoke. Even though it had almost completely emptied out, I waited until I finished my second midi before I ordered food.

I was so excited to see Coopers 'Vintage 2014' on tap. I hadn't had that vintage before and the last time I had a Coopers Vintage was years ago. It was a beer I used to treat myself to after a month of hard work. I do really like Vintage ales as they are so complex, intense, long lasting, quite often improve with age and have a lot of booze in. Unlike Barley Wines which seem to serve a purpose to get you drunk, Vintage ales are more likened to fine Cognacs or Whiskies and often as complex.

The time was right now, I was a few sips into my gorgeous Coopers Vintage and the hunger had set in. The rumbles were now loud enough to be heard out of my body. My decision to order a pie had been made long before I was any where ready to order it. Dom had told me the last time we were in the Rag and Famish that the Beef and Guinness pie was amazing. So much tender, seasoned meat in a rich and thick beefy beery sauce topped with a crispy and buttery pie crust. It was served with a big pile of chips and they had a counter top full of many different sauces. I wasn't in the mood for anything too spicy or ketchup so I had a small pot of sweet chilli sauce. I tapped the crust with my fork until it cracked. I felt like an Eskimo ice fishing for one of those big fish that seem to live and thrive in freezing conditions. My fork went through the pie crust, directly impaling a piece of beef like a trident spear penetrating the side of an Arctic fish. When I pulled out the fork, the tender piece of beef was still attached. That was until it went into my mouth and was not allowed to escape the grasp of my teeth.

If the first piece was anything to go on, the pie was destined to be fantastic. It was more than fantastic, it was incredible, amazing. So meaty, rich and flavoursome. The meat was melt in your mouth tender and seasoned so perfectly that it required no further thoughts about salt or pepper. My eyes were playing a trick on me. It was a small pie but was very very filling. With the chips on the side it made for a very fulfilling lunch. At $13 it sounded expensive but was worse every cent.

After I finished I sat for a good while digesting my lunch and reading until I was satisfied my food would not come up to haunt me as I rode back over the bridge and into the city.

Amazing top crust pies and an excellent and forever changing assortment of brilliant craft beers

ragandfamish

coopers

Cafe De Wheels

After such a miserable few days of pissing rain and constant wetness, I decided that as the sun had come out and it was supposedly going to be a clear day I might as well make the most of it by taking my bike out for a ride. I should really explain that I have a bike and how this bike came about.

When I was living in England, I used to ride my bike to and from work every day which was about a 10 mile round trip. I got so into cycling that I bought a top spec vintage Italian frame from the 70's. I built it from the ground up using all high end parts of the era. It was a dream, my little baby. An incredibly fast and responsive steel framed bicycle. I was in love. Only about a week into having wheels built to my specifications, and riding it and running in the recently refurbished (by myself) groupset. It got stolen. My beloved bike, taken from me. I turned my back for near on 30 seconds and it was gone. An opportunist thief none the less. In fact just as I'd come to terms with it being gone I saw someone riding it. I jumped out the car and immediately gave chase. With dodgy old knees and not being used to running at all, I was buggered to say the least. To make matters worse, an unsuspecting bystander must have witnessed the events and notified the police. I got back into my mates car and as we were driving around, a police car pulled us over. I was asked to step out of the vehicle as somebody matching my description was just reported to be chasing and threatening a young chap on a bike. Too bloody right I was chasing and threatening the little shit, for all I knew he was the one who stole my bike in the first place. I wanted to break his legs, both of them. Instead of getting the kid on the bike, the police were more interested in pursuing me and winding me up, even when my story checked out they seemed disinterested in it. A bunch of lazy bastards is all I can say.

Any way, when I moved out to Australia about a month after that horrific life event, I was desperate for a ride. I bought myself a bike on Australian eBay after searching all over and finding the best deal. A great little bike popped up. A well regarded Melbourne frame builder, using lightweight steel tubing and having a high spec groupset, it was perfect. Coming in at about $200, and being around the corner from where Nina's parents lived, it was even better. When I collected the bike, all I really needed to do to get it riding was buy some pedals, so I did. I should also mention that I had to buy a helmet, it is the law in New South Wales if not the whole of Australia. The first day I went out on a ride on the bike I was pulled over by police who weren't having any of my ignorance. They walked me to the nearest bike shop which was only about a hundred metres away, then waited until I had purchased a helmet. I suppose that was better than getting a fine or risking serious head injury.

So the first day of sun after so much crap and Paconi, my bike, was destined to be ridden. She was crying out to be ridden. So loudly that I could just about hear her soft wails as I was getting dressed on the 6^th floor. I opened the door to the flats lock up and got out the gear, a helmet, a lock and her, Paconi. Flouro pink, orange and yellow with soft pink handlebar tape and bright white tyres. A beauty to behold and even nicer to ride. A smaller frame than the ones I have currently in the UK, but at the time that was what I was used to. A short wheelbase, with tight geometry allowing you to really cut into corners and glide around sharp bends at hare like speeds.

It was so good riding around the city again. Zooming down steep and long hills, then having to ride back up them or the other side. Powering across the Sydney Harbour Bridge and into and around North Sydney. This day I didn't do that, I felt like a slight change so went and did a couple of loops of Macquaries Point near the botanical gardens. Then stopped in to check out the Art Gallery of NSW. I'm so glad I did that, it was amazing. Some really good pieces of art in there, I'd say all in all it is a better gallery than the MCA. So many floors, so many rooms, it's free (mostly) and the art work is really varied, not just renaissance pieces or those of the Dutch Masters even though there were loads of the latter. The only downside to doing that was that the sun was blazing outside and I was busy indoors walking around looking at paintings and sculptures, and the sun through tinted windows. I was in there for about two hours and decided to call it a day, I had to make the most of the lovely weather just in case it pissed it down like it had the last few days.

I rode from the gallery close to the waterside until I got to Wooloomooloo. It was there that I'd been aiming for. A famous café right on the waters edge, next to the Australian Naval base. Not the most breathtaking view or picturesque but still better than looking at a busy main road or pedestrianised shopping street. I got in the queue and chose what I wanted.

My usual at Harry's Café De Wheels is a 'Lean Beef Tiger' a peppered, lean beef pie with mashed potato, mushy peas and gravy. All that for a snip at under $8. I ordered, paid up and once I received it, I walked along the water front until I found an unoccupied bench seat. Basking in the suns rays, I sat and ate my pie. Forgetting to get a napkin I made a bit of a mess but wiped my face with my hand and then wiped my hand on my shorts. Nobody would have ever noticed that I got gravy and shit all over my face. I wanted to ride off but was too full up from the pie and bottle of water I'd drunk so sat it out for a bit. Reading in the sun on a relatively peaceful afternoon. Learning from experience, I never try to get lunch or a coffee any time between 12-2pm. That time of the day is manic, people rushing all over trying to get food and eat it quickly so they can get back to work as soon as possible. After about an hour of chilling I was ready to go off.

I fancied a beer or something, maybe somewhere quiet to go to catch up with some writing. Due to the amount I'd been going out and drinking, I had so much to write about and keeping on top of it was really quite hard. I try and still I manage to constantly be chasing my tail. Where to go for a drink was the problem. I know a couple of places in Wooloomooloo but fancied something different, somewhere I wouldn't normally go. There were a couple of places where I was but I remember one not being that great and I couldn't remember the name or where the other one was. I gave up and rode to the Old Fitz. I went there a couple of weeks ago with my bro and dad and used to go a lot when I was living in Sydney. They did free pool on a night of the week but which one I couldn't remember. Not that made any difference to me as I wasn't there to play pool.

The selection of beers wasn't as good as the last time I was in there but they had a couple I liked so I got one of the Red IPA's. I only got a midi as it was still quite early, I had been riding my bike so was a little dehydrated and I didn't want to get drunk, at that time anyway. I couldn't find any power points so was limited to the time left on my battery which was currently at about 90%.

I managed to get a couple of bits done and was thinking that the current situation wasn't of any merit so wasn't going to bother writing anything. That was until a bunch of guys came in. A variety of ages, styles and the like. I thought it may have been a stag/bucks do but at that time on a Thursday afternoon seemed a bit odd. Then I thought it could have been a pub crawl of sorts. Who knows.

It wasn't until I started to eavesdrop a little whilst writing that I was able to figure out what was going on. I overheard them mention Guinness a few times. Then saying about a meeting and this and that. Then it got really technical with one guy taking the minutes as the meeting got under way. They were discussing strange things like, a forfeit/penalty because one of the guys tried to sneak in a Heineken in a round. The penalty they all agreed on was that the guilty culprit had to drink a Piña Colada. One guy even mentioned making a spreadsheet so that they can accurately measure and record or rate the Guinness that they have. They had a long list of what sounded like it must have been every pub in Sydney that sold Guinness. Quite a lot do nowadays, I don't remember getting a good one. As far as Stouts go, Guinness is in no way my favourite and I'll only opt to have it if there isn't anything more pleasing.

I sat and listened to this meeting go on for a while. It was all a big formal discussion about Guinness in Australia, Sydney in particular. It was such an odd occurrence that I thought it necessary to include a little story of it on my blog. What was a fulfilling bike ride in the sun, an exciting trip to the gallery, a delicious pie on the water front and a potentially uneventful beer ending with some covert eavesdropping over some kind of Guinness Appreciation Societies monthly meeting.

It would seem that Guinness has some very dedicated followers Down Under.

guinness

A truly awesome gallery

artgallerynsw

harryscafedewheels

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