Athens Day 2 – Carpe Diem

Posted on February 13, 2012 by Hector

Hector was out of his pit at 07.00, two hours writing before a superb breakfast, then out for lunch. 14.00 was the intended time, however a coffee stop saw Hector presented with an illustrated menu, how could I resist? Stuffed Tomatoes – a favourite lunch. ‘They’re off!‘ Too late, what turned out to be the largest plate of Eggplant covered in Ratatouille with extra Tomato and a Cheese Topping, plus some large slices of Baked/Fried Potatoes was soon on its way. Marg ordered the largest Greek Salad ever created by Man. She does not like Cucumber, cannot eat too many Tomatoes, eats Fetta Cheese minimally and is not huge on raw Onion, apart from this she enjoys a good Greek Salad. Either side of lunch was a tour of The Plaka, Syntagma Square, the Meat and Fish Market and a few fire damaged buildings.

The main Post Office in Syntagma is boarded up, The Grand Bretagne Hotel in pride of place at the side of the Square remains untouched. We passed a few banks that had been burned out, people hate bankers, don’t they? The stone cladding on pillars, park benches, anything that could be prised off has become the weapon of choice. Shops had their windows broken indiscriminately, there are thugs in all societies, not just London. This damage was metres from the security of our hotel, just as well we stayed in last night, however the tear-gas made it impossible to be out.

Tonight there will be Bier, but where?

This morning’s tour was also to re-familiarise myself with the area around Monastiraki. There was a very good outlet down there a few years back, I failed to find it last summer, and again this morning. I have a printout with two possible venues, the Beer Academy and Beer Time.

After some ritual late afternoon photographs from our panoramic rooftop and a WLD, it was time to finally get out for Bier! It was now that the news reached Hector that Glasgow Rangers FC have applied for Administration.

The Beer Academy was not revealing itself, I need a better map. Much easier to find was Beer Time. The Bottles on display outside were a Hector Magnet.

The fridge inside looked splendid, the menu listed a Private Brewery I do not know under the title of Bavaria, the rest, well I can only conclude that the owner is a very educated man. There was a choice of Augustiner (Munchen, Bayern) including Edelstoff, Schlenkerla Marzen (Bamberg, Bayern), a choice of Andechs (Andechs, Bayern) including the Bergbock Hell and list if five Bier vom Fass one of which was Konig Ludwig (Schlossbrauerei Kaltenberg, Bayern), where to start?

Start at the end

The choice of the Draught Weizen was inspired by a table of guys who had purchased a rather stubby looking Tower. The Konig Ludwig is not the best of Weissbier by any means but was pouring well and had a definite Banana hit on the palate. Marg had a Sprite.

We moved tables across the room because the Chaps were smoking despite the signs commanding the contrary. Marg and Hector were in Greece the day the smoking ban was introduced a few years back, a damp squib of a day that was. The Greeks don’t pay taxes and they do not heed non-smoking icons. They have much to learn.

A trusty Edelstoff was next up, this was presented in the correct glass as had the Weizen. There is no need to review the Deutsche Bier I probably drink more than nay other these days. It’s dry, bitter taste is sheer perfection.

We departed after two and found a place to eat dinner back at Monastiraki. I will have more to say on this in Curry-Heute. A Mythos did cross my lips with the meal, but deserves no more mention in tonight’s group of Biers.

On the return to Beer Time I was unsure as to how long Marg could be amused so I ordered my last Bier first. Schlenkerla is a hard act to follow, the smoked bacon crisps makes it difficult for the palate to register anything else afterwards. Again the appropriate glass was the provided receptacle.

The Doris in the kitchen area spotted Marg with a Timmermann’s Strawberry Fruit Bier and presented her with some Chocolate. Marg was awake, the Andechs Bergbock Hell was on. There has been discussion of late as to which is drier, the Bergbock Hell or the Andechs Spezial Hell. I believe the Bergbock wins, these days I get an occasional, and unwelcome sweetness from the Spezial.

Beer Time is a home from home. The young Chap serving must have been intrigued by my ordering Bier without looking at the menu. When one knows the Bier it is easy to make the choice. I highly recommend this establishment to anyone in Athens, though drinking here every night will set you back a few Euros, it is not cheap. €5.60 – €5.90 for a half litre bottle is pricey.

It was a short walk back to The Plaka and finally a chance to take a decent photograph of the construction on the hill. After the protestations of yesterday and the damage witnessed today, it is easy to see why Athens most famous landmark is a ruin.

Postscript

The rioting in Syntagma Square broke out unexpectedly again late this evening when a solitary Scotsman began a demonstration against Whyte Men. ‘Something was lost in translation.’ a spokesman for the British Consulate was to explain later.

The Pub visited today:

Beer Time – Iroon Square, Athens, 10551

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Athens Day 1 – A Noisy Welcome

Posted on February 12, 2012 by Hector

Athens Airport was in darkness as we touched down ten minutes ahead of schedule. Mr Stelios has provided a direct Edinburgh (of course) flight to Athens. As soon as it was announced, Hector had flights booked for myself and Marg, the February Week would be best enjoyed in the tranquil atmosphere that is the Greek Capital. Last August we arrived at Syntagma Square, minus one HTC Desire HD and a Canon Digital EOS SLR thanks to the thieving bastards on the tram. The riot police were out in force anticipating further demonstration. Thanks to my loss I remain more interested in my own Micro-Economics than Greek Macro-Economics.

On boarding the Metro this evening, a text from Yvonne asked if we were OK. My Sky News App on my replacement phone updated me on the current affairs: a full blown riot was under-way at Syntagma, our Metro was headed there. Four stops out the Metro busy,  suddenly we were at our destination, Monastiraki. The authorities had closed down some stations for the day, now to negotiate the throng on the streets. I knew our hotel the Plaka  was near Panaghia Kapnikaria, the old church on Ermou. Walking up Ermou we passed people of all ages, some wearing masks. That we were walking against the flow dragging our bags making the walk that bit more challenging. Approaching the church a young Doris stopped Marg and told her not to go any further, there was trouble ahead. She suggested we turn right and stop heading towards Syntagma. Serendipity or what? Our hotel was fifty metres to the right. Our eyes were nipping as we entered the lobby.

From our balcony we could see the floods of people streaming back from Syntagma, the number of explosions was more in keeping with news footage from Home. Flashes and bangs were frequent, we were not going out, we hadn’t eaten since Edinburgh Airport.

To the roof garden

The view of the Acropolis from the roof garden was one major attraction of this hotel, apart from its central location. Others were there, trying to take photographs. Clouds of tear-gas wafted around us, we all had to bail, eyes nipping, throats burning. All except Marg who was determined to get one last photo.

Are you remembering this is a Bier Blog?

The rooftop bar was closed, I doubt if it is open in winter. The Mezzanine Bar was our new safe and enclosed haven. This is a goldfish bowl overlooking the junction outside. Masked chaps were displaying their bravado outside. One of our assembled guests produced a camera. Something was thrown at our windows, the glass cracked one metre behind Marg, we withdrew to a table out of sight of the window. We were now prisoners in our own hotel.  A Soda Water and a small bottle of Mythos, both for Hector and a Cappuccino for Marg were produced along with our only sustenance for the evening, salted Nuts. Marg then went to negotiate a Brandy and Coke. When she ordered a second I thought I had better keep her company, and so a large Metaxa was the Bier of Choice to end the evening.

Breakfast of Champions

The time difference is such that when I awoke at 07.00 there was nothing for it but to get up. The Greek Parliament have passed the new austerity measures. 100,00 demonstrators were out here last night, Syntagma Square has been damaged. Marg and Hector will soon set off to see what we are permitted to see. Meanwhile there is food on offer: the Bacon is superb but with Green Olives even better.

The Hotel where we kept refuge:

The Plaka Hotel  –  7 Kapnikareas, Athens, 105 56

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The Staggs, again, so soon.

Posted on February 11, 2012 by Hector

A day and a night in Musselburgh

We take our Bier seriously. The title of this Blog should be sufficient a give-away to the fact that we will travel within reason, and within acceptable economic parameters, to consume the best we can find. The Tempest (Scottish Borders) Long White Cloud is currently (IOHP) the finest Ale brewed in our fair country. In the last week Robin and Howard have done their research, Craig is part of the story somewhere too. We have learned two things: Tempest only brew this Ale sporadically, the Staggs in Musselburgh recently had two Casks delivered.

The resolve to return after two short weeks was not a difficult one to make, especially when it was revealed that there were in fact three Casks of Long White Cloud in the cellar. The Friends of Hector should surely command one on a Saturday afternoon? Howard had contacted Nigel (why there is no award for most obliging Host?), all was in order.

Marg is renowned for her general disinterest in alcoholic beverages. Sweetie drinks are her favourite when she does imbibe, though do check out her consumption of Hofbrau at Source! That we are due to fly out of Edinburgh tomorrow lunchtime planted a seed in Hector’s mind – would a day in Musselburgh appeal to the Dear Lady? The holiday extension concept was approved, a night at the local Travelodge was secured, a Race Meeting made rooms difficult to find.

Located at the very eastern end of the Edinburgh Bypass, the Travelodge should have been very easy to find. Should have been. Jedburgh, Leith (wrong direction, surely?), and many Border towns flashed up before us on the road signs. There was no mention of Musselburgh. We actually came off the Bypass to re-check our navigation, had the mysterious eastenders built another road to accommodate the minority population? Only on rejoining the Bypass two junctions from the end did the name Musselburgh finally appear on a road sign. Perhaps I should really end this Blog now , not spill the beans, and this maintain the mystery of this fine attraction?

An early check-in had been arranged, we were out of the room by 13.00, the others should be there already.

Walking past Monktonhall the history of Scottish Industry came flooding back, coal mining. How much coal remains under our feet as we walked down the Valley off the Esk, or Eskdale? I was soon on familiar territory passing Yaadgar, a name which has been mentioned in the partner Blog, but Curry was for later.

Nigel greeted us as we walked in to The Staggs. He verified the order and did not bat an eyelid when a Fresh Orange and Lemonade was the accompaniment. Robin, Craig, Yvonne, Mags, Howard, Dr Rick, Alan, Mr Boyd and John S were first pint as we squeezed in beside them.

And we’re off

The Long White Cloud was once again described as Excellent by Craig, so it must be. ‘The Budgie is back.’ is how Yvonne described her Beau. Robin was sporting a black eye but had no recollection as to how it had been acquired, worrying. Mr Boyd was only in his usual raconteur mode intermittently, indeed in the second half of the afternoon he stood up and announced his early departure. These seventy year olds, no stamina. John and I spoke Curry for a good while. Howard, Alan and Mags were too isolated initially. Marg went for a walk as is her custom, down to the harbour, to see the wildlife, she was amused. She returned and was straight into the Bacardi and Coke. I was determined to enjoy the Long White Cloud, John moved on to Kipling (Bakewell, Derbyshire), Avalanche (Fyne Ales, Cairndow, Argyll and Bute) and finally Jarl also out of Fyne Ales. I do not recall hearing Craig mention Kipling but he could not have resisted. Robin switched to Jarl, a sensible man. There is no other pub in the land serving this range of Ale. That Mein Host loves his light, hoppy Ale too is a distinct advantage in our favour. Our young barman was permitted a time-out and joined us for one. His name and details will no doubt become more apparent in Future Days.

And now for the best bit

The time came for all and sundry to depart. It was approaching 20.00. Cheerio cheerio, cheerio. Marg and Hector were left, sitting with the locals, how it should be. It was definitely time to eat, the meal at the Halimah is dutifully recorded, but this is not the end of this saga.

After a surprisingly fine Curry-Heute, we returned and sat in the inner room. The Avalanche was the Ale of choice now. It is worrying that an Ale I have enjoyed so much in the last year felt less. There was no more, a taxi from the adjacent rank took us up the hill. Tomorrow is another day.

The pub visited today:

The Staggs Bar  –  81 North High Street, Musselburgh, EH21 6JE

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The monthly trip to The Staggs in Musselburgh

Posted on January 28, 2012 by Hector

It is written, we shall go to The Staggs (aka The Volunteer Arms) once a month.  The reason is simple; Nigel the Landlord will put on the best Light, Hoppy Ale that he can get his hands on.  Not only that, he ensures that the Ale will be available to our party as we arrive in the early afternoon.  There will always be a choice, when we finish one cask there are two more waiting to be enjoyed.  This is service of the highest order.  That this ritual is in Musselburgh, a town east of the capital and we are coming through from Glasgow is all the more significant.

Our party of nine assembled at Queen St for the train at 11.00.  Due to the bizarre way in which tickets operate, it is cheaper for us to buy local tickets to Glasgow, a group return to Edinburgh and then a third ticket to Musselburgh.   This would not happen with Deutsche Bahn.

We entered the Staggs just after 12.30, Thornbridge (Bakewell, Derbyshire) Kipling at a manageable 5.2% was waiting for us.  The pump clip was turned to prevent a run on this superb Dry, Hoppy Ale before we arrived.  Most of us consumed this for most of the afternoon.  Mein Host appeared to take his bow.  Craig was quick to advise him of the wonderful ales we consumed in Ulverston at New Year.  The Hawkshead NZPA is a new name to Nigel who is always happy to listen to recommendations.  He knows that his customers will enjoy this too and will no doubt track it down soon.  Nigel also made us aware that the charming young lady behind the bar was his daughter.

Once the Kipling was finished Hector went up to the bar and ordered a Fyne Ales (Cairndow, Argyll and Bute) Avalanche.  At a mere 4.5% this punches above its weight and is refreshing follow up to the Kipling.  ‘Why are you not having the Dancing Duck?’  Hector had not even spotted it was on, also I had never heard of it.

Dancing Duck (Derby, Derbyshire) is a micro-brewery which is relatively new to the scene.  Their Abduction at 5.5% is exactly what we seek.  I did find it to be a bit flat after the Avalanche but it soon hit the spot.   This was the final Ale of the afternoon, perhaps just as well.

Who ate all the Pies?

Hector had considered an Edinburgh lunchtime Curry en route to Musselburgh but had the usual Soup et al on the train.  This would keep me going until my return to the Punjabi Charing Cross.  Euan was the first to disappear out for food returning with a Pie.  Howard and Tracey followed suit.  Craig and Yvonne may have followed on, but as I barely recognise them these days it was hard to tell..  A Fish Supper appeared, wtf?  Are we here to eat or drink wonderful Ales?  Each to their own.

Now we are ten

Tracey announced that Andy was on his way through form the West to join us.  Complete with his travelling companion he soon settled in.

Meet the locals

With the number of our visits accumulating, the locals are aware that when we are in town the Ale will be especially outstanding.  Hector has made a point of talking to the group who assemble on the left side of the bar, we talk the same language, we like the same Ale. They still cannot believe that there is nowhere in Glasgow which can provide the service enjoyed at The Staggs, but then we do not know of any other Public House in Scotland which offers this.  This venue is an outstanding candidate for the current national POTY issued by CAMRA.

Time to go

We are told that Nigel appreciates our leaving as much as he does our coming. We instinctively know when the time has come to make our departure; today I reckon we stayed an hour longer than before.  We stand up, say farewell and leave en masse.

Meanwhile back in the West

Hector met some minor celebrities, the emphasis being on minors, at Queen St Low Level.  With Howard, Tracey and Jonathan the Bon Accord Ale House was our destination, it was too early to call it a night.  The Board at the Bon accord was poor, very poor. Augustiner Edelstoff (München, Bayern) at 5.6% is always available, just as well.  This was a suitable night cap before Hector decanted next door to the Punjabi Charing Cross for yet another excellent Curry.

 A couple of Euan’s Photos:

The pubs visited today

The Staggs Bar  –  81 North High Street, Musselburgh, EH21 6JE

The Bon Accord Ale House  –  153 North St,  Glasgow, G3 7DA

Posted in Glasgow, Musselburgh | 1 Comment

Manchester and Sheffield, overcoming the Mathäser Syndrome

Posted on January 21, 2012 by Hector

Some went to Sheffield early, ?Stan! and Hector had lunch at Al Faisal in Manchester’s Northern Quarter.  ?Stan! was particularly well informed about the location of the Curry Cafes in this area, this was perhaps a prelude to the first Bier of the day.  He must have known that across the road from 58 Thomas St lay 57 Thomas, a micro-pub aka The Marble Bar.

The lights were on, somebody was in.  I tried the door, it was locked.  Within seconds it was open, Mein Host welcomed us in to his modest establishment. Four casks were on the bar, two were ready.  Now Marble’s (Manchester) Lagonda at 5% is not necessarily how we would choose to start what would be a long day.  This, we were told, was Trial Version #7.  Realising the variation in Hops which has made some Ales unrecognisable in recent times, Marble have set about a series of Trials.  To Hector they have it right.  This was far more Hoppy than the version I had in Boot on Hogmanay.

The layout of the pub was minimalist, a single long table surrounded by chairs.  Once the place fills up there is no choice but to join those already seated.  These could lead to rousing nights.  That the venue only sells Bier takes me back to U Fleku in Praha when it was in the post Berlin Wall days.  I could easily have stayed on here, but my pre-purchased rail ticket was timed for 12.42.  We left, to our sorrow.

A £6 single to Sheffield

Approaching Sheffield Yvonne texted to say they were heading to the Harlequin, a new pub for us all.  By they I assumed the remaining six, as it turned out the Loving Couple and Howard and Tracy had gone for lunch of the more solid variety.  Hector traversed the city centre of Sheffield with an ease that impressed ?Stan!, it wasn’t Rocket Science, I had consulted Google Maps, established where Nursery St was and headed there in a straight line.  As we turned into Nursery St we spotted the Harlequin at the far end of the street, we also spotted Craig and Yvonne making a sharp exit.  Unperturbed, we entered and found a splendid array of Ale and two European Draught Biers: Paulaner Weiss (München, Deutschland) and the dark Budvar (Ceske Budovice, Czech Republic).  The pub itself was spacious with a lower level for games.  The serious drinkers appeared to be sitting to the left of the doorway. How one could simply walk in and back out again is inexplicable, there was something for everyone.

The Brew Company (Sheffield) Blonde at 4% was my choice, ?Stan! desired the Gold by the same brewery but was given something else instead.   The Blonde tasted very slightly soapy, a bit flat, in fact it had little going for it, but somehow it worked.

Various texts confirmed that The Four were heading to The Kelham Island Tavern, what was always the other pub on Kelham Island.  That it was the first port of call was not due to Geography but fear of what lay beyond.  The Fat Cat used to be the biggest attraction in England; a return visit would involve trepidation..  The Two had entered both and moved on without stopping, they had no idea where they were headed now.  Let me remind the reader that in our Manchester Weekend, the only glimpse I had of Craig and Yvonne was their disappearance over the horizon outside the Harlequin.  Maybe they were trying to avoid me? So it goes.

The Kelham Island Tavern was full.  ?Stan! negotiated a pint of White Rose (Sheffield) Naughty Blonde at 4.2% .  The others were through the back in the extension.  We sat where Steve famously performed late one night some years back when he borrowed a local’s guitar and was not permitted to return it until closing.  The Ale was fine, not outstanding; it was time to take it easy.

Tracey said something to me, I had to shout back: ‘I cannot hear you because you are not shouting!’  There was a table of student types at the window, the women chose to screech at each other, thanks to this the volume of the entire room was raised significantly.  Can people not simply talk?

The Debate Began

Should we set foot in the Fat Cat?  Should we go back on the resolve not to drink the Pale Rider?  In the end we succumbed and went around the corner.  Mein Host and his Dear Lady were in situ, I greeted the latter: ‘I never thought these words would leave my lips – ‘Shall I risk a pint of The Pale Rider.’  This is Kelham Island’s Championship winning Ale at 5.2%.  This was our signature Ale from the mid 1990s when it arrived in Glasgow until about two years ago when it became unrecognisable.

Five of Six had the Pale Rider, (at Source!) ?Stan! had the Easy Rider, he also had lunch. The food at The Fat Cat has always been outstanding, even the Vegetarian meals have been enjoyed by Hector in the days when monthly visits to Sheffield were the norm.  The range of Biers on offer still makes this pub a major attraction, it is sad what the adjacent Brewery have done to their ale.  I have written, a reply was never forthcoming.

We sat in what was formerly the non-smoking room; this is far more comfortable than the seated part of the bar when one is in company.  Robin agreed that blindfolded we would still consider Pale Rider to be a good Ale, it has body, there is some flavour. I used to liken it to Straffehendrik when it was brewed in Brugge (Belgium).  It is simply a Pale Shadow of its former self, served in Glasgow it could be anything, we never touch it.

The Mathäser Syndrome

For years Sheffield meant The Fat Cat, The Devonshire Cat and The Kelham Island Tavern.  Then there were the trips to Dronfield to visit the home of Thornbridge’s Jaipur.  There are numerous pubs in Sheffield we have not visited, there was never any need.  The demise of Pale Rider and Jaipur has changed everything. The new Sheffield Tap, aka the Station bar kept the city on the radar.

Entering the Shakespeare just across the wasteland from the Kelham Island Tavern, one wonders why we were so stupid never to have been here before.  This is a magnificent venue.  Again the choice of Ale and foreign Biers is commendable, the rooms to the rear were Spartan, the furthest became our instant home.  With genuine German foldaway tables and benches we were straight in.  The walls are adorned with numerous Bier -clip Deckles.  Back in the smoking days this place must have been horrific.

Hector’s choice of Ale was simple, at last The Haworth Steam Brewery Ale was set before me at a time I could consume it.  Their Strong Ale at 5.2% is not my usual style but despite the palate having to adapt to Malt and Sweetness this went down very well indeed.  I shall have this again, maybe even at Source!

 Having been annoyed earlier by the noise of the people in the Kelham Island Tavern, it is worth commenting that in the Shakespeare Bar there is music played.  The speakers are modest, the volume within acceptable parameters.  One can tune it in or our depending on the extent of the recognition.  They played diverse sounds, Craig would have been happy here.

Choo Choo

The Sheffield Tram took us back to the station where Craig and Yvonne awaited.  Remember Craig and Yvonne?  Their train (and Robin’s) was leaving in fifteen minutes.  We had time to establish that Magic Rock (Huddersfield) Rapture at 4.5% was the Ale to be had.  Despite being somewhat Brown and less than 5%, this was their recommendation?  What has happened, had they wasted their day? Bye, bye, see you in Musselburgh…

The Sheffield Station Tap was as busy as ever.  A converted waiting room it is an ideal venue but is only accessible from the street, not the platforms.  Five of Eight returned to Manchester where Three of Five retired.

 Meanwhile, back in Manchester, Lagonda at Source!

?Stan! and Hector walked at the pace only they can to the Northern Quarter where our day had begun.  With further testimony to the fact that nostalgia ain’t what it used to be, we returned to the Bar Fringe, the scene of Hector’s first ever pint in Manchester.

Offbeat (Crewe) Kooky Blond at 4.1% had a hard act to follow the surprise joy of the Steam Brewery’s Strong Ale.  Kooky no, bland yes.  We sat at the same table as last year at the rear of the room.  The throng mulled around any space people could stand.  The noise of the music was unbearable.  People were trying to chat, this was impossible.  We left pdq. Now where?  57 Thomas St was still in our minds but for the final venue of the day I was persuaded that the walk along Shudehill to the Source of Marble Ale would be a brief one.  Ten minutes later we were at the Marble Arch.  Quality Ale was guaranteed.

The #7 Lagonda was available here to.  With body and hops this was outstanding.  A perfect night cap.

The pub itself is a classic venue which I would again suggest has become much more bearable since the smoking ban.  The entire place is on a slope towards the bar and beyond.  A quite room is located to the rear.  Again I mention the music, ?Stan! was appalled that there was any, this is not how he remembers it.

We took a table in the main room, a very pleasant venue.  Adjacent was a door which looked as though it had not been opened for a century.  A model of one of England’s fictional pubs was presented to a young lady; Hector was straight in with the camera.  An excellent venue with great Ale, a perfect end to the day, or was it?

Bidding farewell I jumped in a taxi to The Curry Mile, well, one is in Manchester…

The Pubs and Brewery Taps visited today:

57 Thomas St, Marble Bar  –  57 Thomas St, Manchester, M4 1NA

Harelquin  –  108 Nursery Street  Sheffield,  S3 8GG

The Kelham Island Tavern  –  62 Russell Street  Sheffield, S3 8RW

The Fat Cat  –  23 Alma Street,  Sheffield, S3 8SA

Shakespeare  –  146-148 Gibraltar Street  Sheffield,  S3 8UB

The Sheffield Tap  –  Sheffield Station,  Sheaf St, Sheffield,  S1 2BP

The Bar Fringe  –  8 Swan St,  Manchester, M4 5JN

The Marble Arch  –  73 Rochdale Road , Manchester ,M4 4HY

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New Oxford, What Manchester Ale Fest?

Posted on January 20, 2012 by Hector

The long summer, xmas and easter holidays are always appreciated.  So are the welcomed single weeks in February and October, oh and the September long weekend, in fact Hector does not do too badly for holidays.  There is one weekend in the year when Hector is disadvantaged, this one.

The Friends of Hector headed off to Manchester yesterday, some Winter Ale Fest, they say.  I did not arrive in Manchester until 20.30 this evening after a full day’s work, professional to the end.  A cooperative taxi driver took me from Piccadilly to Upper Brooke St where I checked in to the Travelodge in record time.   Three pounds had still accrued on the meter in what felt like seconds out. He had to consult his map before heading off to Salford.  Could he not work his Satnav?

The New Oxford in Salford was where the Chaps were now ensconced. Craig and Yvonne had already succumbed before I arrived.  I expected to meet up with ?Stan! and Jonathan, I was surprised to see Howard and Tracey still going strong, Robin was there too.

It took three attempts to find out which of the twenty ales on draught was recommended for my first Bier since last Saturday.  There was a group at the adjacent table who only spoke at one volume, eleven.

Allgates (Wigan) New Zealand Cascade at 4.3% was the starter.  It had slight Citrus and Hops, not as in your face as previous New Zealand Hops ales of the last few weeks.  I was back at the bar in minutes.  Round 2. Salopian’s (Shrewsbury) Blackwater Kangaroo Court at 4% was a step down in strength but a major step up in flavour.  This had much more Hops and again went down very quickly.  It was time for something serious.  Offbeat’s (Crewe) Out of Step at 5.8% was exactly what the Hector ordered. This had Hops and Citrus in abundance, the type of Ale our company craves.  There was more.

The highlight of the night came in a phone call from Marg.  A couple of weeks ago her friends were on holiday in what we thought was Bamberg (from their text) but turned out to be St Lucia.  Are they close?   They claimed to have met the owner of Pyraser (Pyras, Deutschland).  I still cannot work out why Bamberg was mentioned.   My reply was to tell them that Pyraser was brewed in Pyras near Hilpoltstein and that the owner of the brewery was in fact a Lady.  This was to test the mettle of the person claiming to be the owner.  I pointed out that I had met the Braufrau at a Garden Party one Sunday morning in 2009 just before she took part in the local pageant as part of Das Burgfest, she was the main character. It turns out she remembered me.  I was now a very proud and happy old Hector.

This was my first visit to the New Oxford, I can see why the Chaps had taken up residence for the night.  The choice of Ale was impressive; they had other outstanding Biers on draught too.   With a room to the front and rear of the bar there was plenty of space.  It was just a pity that the crowd next to us had to shout, perhaps they are used to places with loud music and had not compensated.

Only ?Stan! and I were left, being out of phase a small glass of La Chouffe (Achouffe, Belgium) at 8% would polish of the night before I headed for the day’s main objective: the first visit of Hector to the Manchester Curry Mile.  ?Stan! walked south-west, I took a taxi.

The solitary pub visited today:

The New Oxford  –  11 Bexley Square, Chapel Street, Salford, Manchester, M3 6DB

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An afternoon in Haworth, one night in Bradford

Posted on January 2, 2012 by Hector

With the greatest charm offensive since, well since Hector persuaded The Chaps and Chapattis to spend New Year in Ulverston, I managed to muster ten of twelve for an extra night away from home.  One cannot drive towards the M6, see the signs for Bradford and not drive over the motorway to the A65.   Curry may be the attraction, however Ricky may feel that he too is a Bradford attraction.

Howard and Tracey had their own plans.  Driving straight to Bradford they checked in, took the train back to Huddersfield, visited The Grove, returned for a Bradford Curry then retired.  They are not in this saga any more.

With Craig and Yvonne once more in the rear seats, Hector and Marg took the scenic route towards Haworth, a detour via Pendle meant we approached Haworth from the south past the reservoirs.

Our passengers were escorted to the station and they purchased round trip tickets to Keighley.  Somebody likes steam engines.  Jonathan dropped ?Stan!, Mags and Robin and they bought single tickets to Keighley.  The Boltmaker’s Arms and Taylor’s Landlord more or less at Source was the attraction.

Hector and Marg walked back up towards the famous cobbled Main Street and began our ritual.  This usually involves Marg visiting a certain outfitters and Hector’s bank balance diminishing.  We decanted to Gascoigne’s where once again I failed to sample their Ale at Source.  My day will come.

Re-united with our charges we sped off to Bradford where the Hilton Hotel was desperate for our business.  It was the deal that convinced the ten to stay over.

Haigy’s was the first port of call, the Four Pioneers arrived by foot  minutes before it opened, how quaint English pub hours can be. The next chap in asked if we knew ?Stan!, this was Mick, another local CAMRA stalwart.   ?Stan! was meeting up with Ricky and a bus was the means of transport the very short distance to Manningham.  Introductions were completed and with Mick and Ricky we were ten again.

The Elland Brewery’s Beyond the Pale was the nearest thing to our perfect choice.  At 4.2% this was a bit low after the joy of the last few days.  The Munich Malt was lost on our palates which had become saturated by New Zealand Hops.

Some of us were watching the clock, Hector’s real Bradford purpose was looming.  The phone rang, Lord Clive was home.  He asked if anyone called Dave and Allison were in the pub.  They were not hard to spot.  Having ribbed them over their Leeds FC scarves that were parked in full view of Ricky, it could only be them.  It is good that the people of Yorkshire come out to meet their Scottish visitors.

Six of ten went for a magnificent Curry at the newly re-opened Sheesh Mahal.  With perefect timing we united the group next door at The Beehive Inn.  Here Saltaire’s Cascade Pale Ale was our chosen Ale, sadly it did not impress as much as it did a month before when we were last down in Bradford.  At 4.8% this was closer to the mark however.

We were joined by Geoff, the wonderful Chap Ricky, Marg and Hector had spent a day with last September.  I think he did stop to breathe at one point in the evening.  There was a coal fire, Marg had to be restrained.

We moved on to the main attraction of the pub world in Bradford, the Fighting Cock.  Hector’s magnanimous gesture of not arriving first and being served first cost him a taste of what may have been the best Ale on offer in Bradford today – Ossett’s Winter IPA at 5%.  Instead Durham’s White Amarillo at 4.8% kept the majority of us amused for the next hour.

A bottle of  Belgian Bier magically manifested itself before Yvonne, this changed everything.  Hector studied the fridge – Delirium Tremens (bottled) was calling.  This Bier called Robin, Mags, Jonathan and eventually Yvonne too.  Now we had a party.

For some the night was coming to an end, six of us went for a Curry, for Ricky and Hector this was for the second time this evening, and why not?

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Pubs and Brewery Tap visited today:

Gascoigne’s (Haworth Steam Brewery)  –  98 Main Street, Haworth, BD22 8DP

Haigy’s  –  31 Lumb Lane, Manningham, Bradford, BD8 7QU

The Fighting Cock  –  21 Preston Street, Bradford, BD7 1JE

Posted in Bradford, Haworth | 2 Comments

New Year’s Day in Ulverston

Posted on January 1, 2012 by Hector

All is quiet, on New Year’s Day, normally

Hector cannot recall the last time he made breakfast on New Year’s morning.  Bed by 02.30 made breakfast at 10.30 a possibility.  All five of us made which is even more impressive.  By now only Jonathan was still ordering the Sausages as part of the Full English.

Marg and Hector headed out into the daylight; the first time we had the chance to see the town since we arrived. We paid homage to Laurel and Hardy. Some shops were open, trains were running and more importantly, the pubs were open.  This is why we came to England.

The Farmers Arms was the first port of call.  The Hector had to investigate the possibility of a dinner booking this evening.  It was possible.  We headed up the hill passing the old kirk which dates back over a thousand years.  A wee bit of history then.

The Furness Lighthouse on the hilltop did not beckon to Hector at all.  Once we were in range of a half decent photograph it was back down.  But wait a minute; we appear to be on the same street as the rest of the group’s B&B.  We could not find St Marys Mount and so went back down the hill to the Farmers Arms for coffee.

The HTC erupted into life.  Craig and Yvonne were already at The Swan imbibing in the wonderful Hawkshead NZPA.  Maggie and Clive were not too far away, it was time to saunter along.

The promised Bacon Butties were on the bar in a help yourself format, I did.  Hector was the first person in 2012 to order a second pint of NZPA, not that we take these things seriously.  Realising that if I sat opposite the assembled crew rather than prop myself on a stool – we could in effect take over the room – I sat alone initially.  ?Stan! and Robin took the bait, Marg went for a wander but then returned to stoke the fire. Jonathan and Mags were now here too.  Once Howard and Tracey entered we were re-united once again.

A couple from Barrow in Furness joined us and added greatly to the afternoon. They were in Ulverston for the afternoon touring the pubs with coal fires.  There was a great exchange of information.

We spent a thoroughly relaxing afternoon at The Swan, taking it easy and enjoying the Ale, did I mention how wonderful it was?

Food?

The Farmers Arms was booked out by the time a quorum agreed to move on.  Marg and I decided to try our luck and left the others.  Arriving at the Stan Laurel we realised that this was the obvious place to eat, so we did.  Finally I had an Ale here too.

Townhouse Audley Gold at 4.5% (Audley, Staffordshire) could not compete on the palate but was a fine mouthwash to accompany the Stroganoff type dinner.  I was dying for a Curry-Heute.

Jonathan  had come back to arrange the transport of some fine Pyraser and Tucher Weinachtsbier up to St Marys Mount.  ?Stan! and Clive had headed off in search of Chinese, food, I believe.

With better directions, Marg and Hector found St Marys Mount in the dark, here the night party was already underway.  The place is magnificent.  This is a B&B?  The seven had sole use of a very modern kitchen and an amazing upstairs lounge.  I knew I had booked them into somewhere that looked impressive on the website, but this was way beyond expectation.  I am told the Hosts looked after the group to their complete level of satisfaction.  I suspect we shall all return here at some point in the future.

Howard had his Branded MP3 player in a dock and was broadcasting an array of sounds to the gathered assembly.  It was someone else’s turn to try and take care of the fire.  Asphyxiation became my concern.  The ladies danced, they like that sort of thing.  The Chaps watched; this is our role. Howard danced; he must be in touch with his feminine side.

Having suffered …, having put up with .., eventually Howard found Stargazer by Rainbow and I became a Happy Hector.  Marg decided it was time to take me home.

This was originally planned as the last night of the trip, but Hector managed to persuade ten of twelve to decant east to the wonderful City of Bradford.

Mirfield next year?  – the birth place of Jean Luc Picard’s alter ego…

The Pubs visited today:

The Stan Laurel  –  31 The Ellers, Ulverston, Cumbria LA12 0AB

The Farmers Arms  –  Market Pl  Ulverston,  Cumbria, LA12 7AB

The Swan Inn  –  Swan St., Ulverston, Cumbria, LA12 7JX

Posted in Ulverston | Comments Off on New Year’s Day in Ulverston

Eskdale by day, Ulverston for Hogmanay

Posted on January 1, 2012 by Hector

The strategy for the day was to find enough distraction so as to stay out of the pub and maintain peek condition for the long night ahead – oops.  Well Hector managed this, he is not convinced that the Curry at Taste of Punjab mid evening was to blame for the rapid decline of the majority.  It’s my Blog, so I get to tell it my way.

There was a hearty breakfast at 08.00 for Craig, Yvonne, Jonathan, Marg and Hector at the Stan Laurel.  Lord Clive of Crawley had furnished details of a 09.15 train to Ravenglass.  Northern Rail knew nothing of this.  And so the assembled eleven (Tracey does not do steam) hung around the award winning Ulverston Station for an extra half hour.  Still the rain came down.

The majority of our fellow passengers alighted at Ravenglass and huddled their way under the main line to the Eskdale Steam railway.  Nobody told us it was a toy train.  Not even Jonathan who had done the journey before.  Not even Craig the great steam enthusiast.

There was a shop, Marg bought some tea. This was pronounced the best cup of tea on the planet. We climbed aboard the damp, cold carriages.  The tea landed on the floor, Hector was blamed, and it must have been his fault. The replacement tea did not impress.

Some fifty minutes later we arrived at the end of the line – Boot – it was till raining. ?Stan! had the Good Beer Guide, he insisted the first pub was not the destination but the one which appeared to be miles away.  Miles later we entered the Boot Inn, they had Ale and a warm coal fire.  They also had a room full of weans and so we chose our seat carefully.

The choice of Ale was local and not that extensive. Stickin’ the Boot Inn at 4.6%, evidently the local Ale was a quiet and unremarkable start to the day.  The Ale started well revealing some hops but these diminished quickly.  Some had lunch, Yvonne played with her phone, Hector set up phantom logins.

Once we had settled, ?Stan! announced we were in the wrong pub.  Marg dragged Hector to the Eskdale Mill, the oldest operating mill in England.  They had Scottish technology, so it goes.

On entering the Brook House Inn the glasses steamed up.  A baby lay sprawled across the floor, the parents were indifferent.  For the first time Hector nearly stood on the wean, a few minutes later this nearly happened again.  Why do parents relinquish all responsibility for their uncontrollable brats once they get in a pub?  Why are they allowed in the main room of a pub anyway?

The Ale was better, the range far more impressive.  The Lagonda IPA at 5% (Manchester Marble Brewery) however did not last long and the slow coaches had to consume something lesser.  Why was Hector drinking a 5% Ale this early in the day – this was not the intended strategy, time to slow down.

There was Mulled Wine, Marg had some, it is still early.  When it was later it was time to catch the train back down the valley.  There was a brief respite and the sun shone briefly.  The return journey to Ravenglass was much more harmonious.

?Stan! had suggested a stop off at Foxfield.  The ticket Doris was not too happy with this; our return tickets apparently did not permit breaking the journey.  Why not? They do in every other country.  She told us nobody would care, so we decided we didn’t either.

Alighting at Foxfield it was dark, totally dark.  We could see nothing.  The train departed and there was the Prince of Wales directly across the line.  We crossed the line, it is what one does.

The pub was stowed.  It was old fashioned in layout, two rooms knocked into one?  The furniture was random pieces rescued from who knows where.  We fell in love with the place.  Our Hostess was amazing, she was lapping up the sudden arrival of eleven more than she was expecting off the down train.

The local brewery was well represented; Hector took to the railway spirit to heart and ordered a pint of Desperate Encounter at 3.5%? At £2 a pint this was in order.  Marg had Mulled Wine, more?  Mags had Hot Cider.  Craig and Yvonne spotted a New Zealand IPA in bottles at 6.8%, help ma Boab.  There was Schlenkerla too on offer; in fact there was something for everyone. We could have stayed; Our Hostess told us there are rooms.  We told her we would have to leave smartly to catch our train; she furnished us with plastic pints.  We told her we would be back, definitely!

The train came, we held out our hands.  The train stopped, the rain did not.

Back in Ulverston Hector and Marg retired to prepare for diner and the main event of the day.  Craig and Yvonne were not far behind us.  The rest decided the Devonshire Arms would be their refuge for the next two and a half hours, was this wise?

There was a Curry, then it was time for The Swan.

A Tale of Two Biers

Time was  when the  Hawkshead Cumbrian Five Hop (Kendal, Cumbria) at 5% would have been more than enough.  The Friends of Hector had been seduced by a sample last night of the even more astonishing Hawkshead NZPA (Kendal, Cumbria)  at 6%.  We arrived at 22.00, it was not on.  We settled for the Five Hop but of course asked for a strategy to get the Big Brother on.  Only by finishing the Five Hop could we free the tap, we thought we had done a fair bit of damage last night, so this should not have been a problem.  It became evident that the quantity was beating us.

One corner of the room was free, at the fire, Marg took her seat at the hearth.  We knew the couple occupying the far end would be spooked eventually as our numbers grew.  For a while we were in two camps.

Craig and Yvonne became very quiet.  They blamed the Curry. Robin wasn’t saying much, he blamed the Curry too.  ?Stan! was his usual self.  Howard, Tracey, Clive and Maggie had only recently joined the company having just secured the final table to complete the wall of Scots along the outside wall. Hector was pacing himself so as to maximise the intake of the anticipated Super-Ale. Marg decided to stoke the fire, there was no stopping her.  This woke up Tracey who shared my disbelief.  The room was already roasting, Jonathan claimed not to notice but he had probably not thawed out after his al fresco railway experience.  Mags was here too.

The bar was closed half an hour either side of the Bells.  There was a Firework, somewhere.

Happy New Year!

The ritual See You Jimmy hats were produced by those who complied.  Everyone had their turn.  The ritual Calendars were issued, Tracey loved Howard’s so much she wants all the photos posted in a Special Blog.   There was a  calendar for Robin who is 65 later this year: this let me be the first to say Happy Birthday, Robin!

Still no NZPA.

Craig and Yvonne faded away to their beds.  Robin and Mags were close behind.  Stan was almost following on when the Ale finally appeared.  Only Jonathan and Hector, who had paced himself to perfection, were able to take advantage.  Jonathan held the first pint however Hector had actually purchased the first pint in advance.  Ah, the futures market…

To say the Ale was wonderful would be an understatement.  This was perfection: dry, hoppy, citrus, full-bodied, everything we look for.

By 02.00 ?Stan! had disappeared, Clive and Maggie followed on. Marg had lasted the night, Jonathan and Hector were just getting started.

Hector had put his reputation on the line calling a New Year in Ulverston.  Thanks to Dave, Mein Host, we had a Bier to remember, always.  It was obvious that there was plenty left, who would get to drink it?

The Pubs visited today:

The Stan Laurel  –  31 The Ellers, Ulverston, Cumbria LA12 0AB

Boot Inn  –  Boot, Holmrook, Cumbria CA19 1TG

The Brook House Inn  –  Boot, Eskdale, Cumbria CA191TG

The Prince of Wales  –  Foxfield, Broughton-in-Furness, Cumbria, LA20 6BX

The Swan Inn  –  Swan St., Ulverston, Cumbria, LA12 7JX

Posted in Boot, Foxfield, Ulverston | 2 Comments

Ulverston, it is not in Deutschland…

Posted on December 30, 2011 by Hector

For the first time in nine years Hector and Marg will bring in the New Year in the UK, and England for the first time.  Ulverston is not in Deutschland just in case we have yet to convince some people who did ask.  Located on the south coast of Cumbria it is technically not in The Lake District.  Why Ulverston? It has more pubs per square metre than any market town Hector has ever visited, it has charm and three Curry Houses, so why not?

Maggie and Clive (aka Olive) were heading north from Crawley by train and were scheduled to arrive at 14.14.  Three cars left Glasgow and headed down the M74/M6/A590 to Ulverston.  The driving conditions were awful.

With Craig and Yvonne bopping away to Joy Division in the rear of the Hector-Mobile we were first car to arrive in Ulverston and checked in at the Stan Laurel.  Jonathan would occupy the remaining room once he dropped off ?Stan!, Robin and Mags at St Marys Mount.  Howard and Tracey would chug along later.

The rain was still pouring down, the Stan Laurel was closed and so the four of us headed out to meet Clive and Maggie.  I realised that we would not see the town centre in daylight for another forty eight hours.

The Piel Castle Inn was the rendezvous point and one of the four establishments in Ulverston previously visited by Hector.  The interior is magnificent with the tall baronic hall clad in weapons that would befit any Saturday night out in the east end of Glasgow.   How clichéd is that? There was nowhere to hang our coats, an oversight that Clive was to comment upon more than once.

The ten of us took over the large corner tables and the weekend was now underway, except the choice of Ale was not that wonderful. Robinson’s (Stockport, Cheshire) Dizzy Blonde at 3.8% was a safe start to a long weekend.  It would be all about pacing oneself and not peeking too soon.

A move was inevitable, passing two pubs to check Ales on the way, the majority on offer were Robinsons who do not cater for dry, hoppy, pale and 5%.  The Mill was the location where Hector knew there would be something for everyone.  It was also a possible New Year venue if my plans did not go well.  They did have coat hooks.

With nothing at the correct abv, Craig and Yvonne went straight for the draught Erdinger, the rest of us, save Marg, tried the local Ales.  The Lancaster (Lancaster, Lancashire) Blonde at 4.1% was a step in the right direction but still lacked the wow factor that say Fyne Ales’ Jarl is capable of at a more modest 3.8%.

Marg ordered a Mediterranean style platter of food instead.  A wet Tracey and a Howard resplendent in a new green waterproof finally caught up with us.  The Friends of Hector were re-united.

A sit down meal was waved, a Chippy on the hoof to the next port of call was consumed in the pouring rain.

The Swan Inn came recommended.  Russell, the cellar man at the Bon Accord had asked if I had visited the Swan when Marg and I were down in Ulverston in April.  Mein Host at the Stan Laurel had previously suggested that this venue would most likely satisfy our needs.  I had phoned last week to verify that they would be open, not a ticketed event etc.  Dave the charge hand took me on; we were talking the same language.

At the door Marg and I were recognised as non-local by Graham who turned out to be something of a local celebrity.  Having spotted Oakham’s Scarlet Macaw at 4.4% (Peterborough, Cambridgeshire) I knew this would not let us down.  Oakham make superb Ale.  Graham introduced me to Dave, Mein Host, we were cooking on gas.

The rest of the company drifted in, still soaking wet.  There were no coat hooks.  Marg had kept her seat in front of the coal fire and was entertaining a local couple who had a dog.  We took over the far side wall of the large room and settled in for the rest of the evening.  On my next visit to the bar I spotted a new offering.

The Hawkshead Cumbrian Five Hop (Kendal, Cumbria) at 5% has been experienced once by Hector in Glasgow.  The Chaps summoned Hector one summer afternoon; the entire contents of the barrel were sitting in pint glasses on the table in front of the assembled crew.  It was that impressive.   I was permitted a taste, this is what we are looking for.  This was the Ale now on offer.

Dave presented two half pint glasses he had extracted from the forthcoming barrels.  One Ale stood out – the Hawkshead NZPA at 6% was unbelievable.  New Zealand Hops are popping up with increasingly regularity these days.  This had everything, dry, citrus, body, a perfect ale.  It was promised for 21.00 on Hogmanay.  I passed the glass around and reminded all that the Hector was the first person in the company to taste this wonderful Bier.  We drank the Five Hops with enthusiasm but in the back of our minds…

 

The Pubs visited today:

The Stan Laurel  –  31 The Ellers, Ulverston, Cumbria LA12 0AB

The Piel Castle Inn  –  37 Market Street  Ulverston, Cumbria LA12 7LR

The Mill at Ulverston  –  Mill St  Ulverston, Cumbria LA12 7EB

The Swan Inn  –  Swan St., Ulverston, Cumbria, LA12 7JX

Posted in Ulverston | Comments Off on Ulverston, it is not in Deutschland…