Hector’s Holländisch Hootenanny, a Brugge too far – Day 3

Posted on July 23, 2011 by Hector

A day on the Choo-Choo

This was to be the sensible day.  A steam train journey in an obscure part of  South Belgium, Le Chemin de Fer du Bocq.  Ciney was the first port of call, there was nothing there.  We hung around waiting for the arrival of the locomotive.  The machine arrived on schedule and by that time Dr Stan and Hector had had reaslied that with Ciney a dead duck, we needed to achieve some Bier objective.  Rather than stay on the train to the end and come straight back (as David and Jonathan plus Les Freres did), we spotted an advert in the brochure for a decent stop-off at Spontin.

 The worst pub in Belgium

 The Comptoir de Famille, now there is a name Hector will never forget.  Neil, Robin, Dr Stan, Craig, Yvonne and Hector entered the premises just after 14.00.  Twenty minutes later, two of us still did not have a drink.  Three of us nearly ended up with the wrong drink.  There was a Gauloise available on tap.  The young waitress went off and poured three Pils, the worst Bier on the planet IMHO.  Howard intervened.  The Ambre Ale arrived.  Craig had ordered a bottle, it was presented off the shelf, warm, with no apology.  We ordered some Cheese, Olives and Sausage, they never came.  We reckoned in the nintety minute slot we could still conceivably acquire another Bier.

Here we go again

I asked for a Gauloise Blond: ‘Maes?’  Now, how can you hear Maes when one says Gauloise.  Howard desired a Hoegarden variant, Les Fruits de….  ‘Oh, lay ffffrrrrrooooeeee,di….’  Come on.

Craig was given another warm Bier

The young Doris kept writing the order on Bier mats, can she not read her own writing?  Does she keep loosing the Bier mats?

One of Les Freres arrived, no chance.  I went up to the counter to get the bill.  I stood the for two minutes, the three staff ignored me, totally. ‘Am I invisible?’ I said in a loud enough voice to the room. I finally asked the young chap for ‘L’addition s’il vous plait.’  ‘Pardon?’ he replied.  WTF?  I may as well as asked him for direction s to Milngavie via Bo’ness for all the difference it made.  The staff simply were not paying attention.  The music was crap too, and far too loud for a daytime cafe.

We had amassed what we expected to pay.  The bill included three Pils, Olives and Sausage.  Neil came up to the counter with Hector.  Hector would speak more French.

‘Ceci c’est vrai, ceca n’est pas!’    Hector speaks great French on paper.  The young Doris was not up for any argument, she took what we gave her. As we left the first adult appeared, was he in charge of this complete fiasco?  If so, train your staff!

 ‘Good luck!’ was my farewell comment, I felt like Gestapo agent addressing Gordon Jackson in some film whose name escapes me…

 Joined up timetables

 There was a fifty minute wait for the train back to Namur, of course there was.  The station cafe was closed.  The Guy Brasserie  was open.    Good on them.  A cleric occupied the only large table, were eleven again, he moved on.

The most efficient barman in Southern Belgium took our order.  With no note taking, elven assorted Les were presented timeoulsy and accurately.  We were back in a real establishment.

More Karmeliet Tripel?  I must like it.  There was a temptation to stay another hour, but Namur, Curry and Le Chapitre were calling.

The Taj Mahal, Namur’s almost competent Curry House was the intended venue.  Arriving too early (17.30) we had to retire to the Thai Cafe once more  It was Hector’s turn for the Rochefort 8.  The  never ending Cheese covered in the superb Celery Salt was a treat.  Celery Salt will feature strongly in Hector’s cooking from now on.  I hope it complements Za’atar.

Le Chapitre, our local

Craig, Yvonne and Robin were wrapping up their day when the newly invigorated night shift arrived.  Three days in and we were wondering who the tall guy was who keeps following us around. He looked like Dr Stan, answered to Dr Stan, this guy was so horizontal it couldn’t possibly be him.  One of Les Freres had retired, the silent one was still with us.  Neil and Hector were the two most sensible people left.  More La Chouffe, Saison Dupont, Guildenberg and finally a Delirium Tremens to complete the night.  This is long, very slow consumption.  One feels one spends so long over some Biers, despite their strength, the effects of the previous ones have worn off.

St Bernardus has proved to Neil and Dr Stan’s nemesis.  A couple of locals turned up with musical instruments, jazz violin and acoustic guitar kept us amused for a good hour.  Neil and Hector took the straight route home.

So, it appears exactly 100 photographs have gone for a burton…

Ciney (Spontin) Bars

Comptoir de Famille, Chaussée de Dinant 25, ,5530, Spontin

Guy Brasserie, Pl Vandervelde 4, 5590, Ciney

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Hector’s Holländisch Hootenanny, a Brugge too far – Day 2

Posted on July 22, 2011 by Hector

A day trip Liege : Le  Vaudrée

Crossing Belgium in a hurry one Saturday afternoon early in the 2000s, I was taken to Le Vaudrée at Angleur, a suburb of Liege.  This pub famously then, never closed.  It also sells a magnificent range of Bier.  A day trip to Liege was there conceived just to visit this pub.  This was a day when Craig would be permitted to put his feet firmly under the table.

To celebrate the moment when I first tasted La Chouffe, and on draught, I made this my aperitif.  Kwak was the concluding drink.  By now I am realising that I am not really trying anything outlandish, there is still lots of time.

Dr Stan, knowledgeable as ever despite this being his first trip here, strode off to Le Petit Vaudrée along the end of the same street.  The company was split, Jonathan and Neil joined him.  We caught up and the party began again.  Karmeliet Tripel was the Bier of choice for Les Autres, my turn to try it, wonderful.  Another Blond, Judas became the partner, it was a pity we felt the need to move on.

I hate when one is just getting in the mood and someone suggests we have to move on, oh, that was me.

 Back in the city

Le Vaudrée 2 is in what may be downtown Liege, I had never set foot anywhere in Liege apart from Angleur prior to today.  The first taxi of the trip took the seven of us.  Two had already ventured onwards and awaited our presence.  Spag Bol was the main event here, we needed to eat.  Another draught Karmeliet Tripel was the accompaniment.

 Hector’s tours come into their own, at last

With a closed Cantillon and the Airport Transfer cock-up, this was the first day that everything had gone to plan.  We needed a train back to Liege St Guillemins to guarantee our connection back to Namur.  We were two stops down the line and so jumped on the first train back.  Alighting at the main station, we looked at the board, we had just got off our train, perfect.  Back on.  Songs should be sung about this.

There is a distinct lack of photos for this day, this puzzle is one yet to be solved.

Meanwhile back in Namur

Le Chapitre

 This proved to be the best of the three pubs of Namur that were on the recommended list.  Occasional loud music, a decent barman and a good range of Bier.

Hector struggled with a small draught La Chouffe, the Spag Bol was doing its job.  Robin, Craig and Yvonne went back to the hotel, or walkabout as we discovered later.  David arrived and kept Jonathan company through the small hours.  The nightcap was a very easy to put away Boon Kriek.  Howard and Hector took the direct route back to the Ibis.

Liege Bars

Le Vaudrée ,109 rue du Val Benoit, Angleur, Liege, Belgium 4031

Le Petit Vaudrée, 182, Rue Vaudrée 4031 Angleur (Liège)

Le Vaudrée 2, Rue Saint-Gilles, 149, Liège, 4000

Posted in Liege, Namur | Comments Off on Hector’s Holländisch Hootenanny, a Brugge too far – Day 2

Hector’s Holländisch Hootenanny, a Brugge too far – Day 1

Posted on July 21, 2011 by Hector

The Namur Days

This is officially the first day of the 2011 trip organised by Hector.
The theme for this year’s Hector’s Horrible Holidays is Hector’s Holländisch Hootenanny, a Brugge too far. All will become clear in the next ten days, or will it become a blur?

Day 0

As Howard would say, more than once: ‘It was a dark and stormy night, it was raining cats and dogs, there was poodles everywhere…’  Well, this would have been a happier start to the summer trip of 2011.  Arriving on schedule at Charleroi, Hector went looking for the driver of our Transfer to Namur.  There was no Java Coffee shop as the printout stated, this is is BRU – the main Brussels Airport I was told.  Hector is not that stupid, he cannot have booked us into the wrong Airport, but no, the price would have been astronomical and the printout clearly said Charleroi.  I phoned the emergency contact, the most useless Doris answered.  Why does everyone not speak perfect English?  ‘What is your other name?’ she kept asking me.  What other name, I had already identified myself, booking reference too.  ‘Your booking was for the twentieth of June!’  I looked again at the printout, she was correct, I hung up.

There were disbelieving looks from The Friends of Hector.  A major cock-up to my total embarrassment.    21.00 came and went.

Outside we negotiated a taxi at twice the cost of what the pre-paid Transfer had been.  I had just blown €60.  Wait until I get home and check my records.

At Namur we were all round the houses due to a fun fair blocking a street,  The Ibis Hotel, Rue de Lanciers, Namur.   Ten minutes later we were back out on the street looking for Bier.

Le Phare was opposite, in we went.  Out we came, crowded and smoky, this will not do.  The next place had no smoking signs up, people were smoking, out again.  The third place looked more promising but the chairs were being put on the tables, fermee.

 

We ended up at The Thai  Cafe (Rue Nameche) which was just behind the Ibis.  Having wandered the streets of Namur in the increasing darkness and with sporadic showers, Hector was wondering what sort of place he had brought his charges to for four nights.

 Bier was negotiated with what turned out to be a charming African lady whose English improved as we became more daring with our French.  Hector had a Kriek, a slightly alcoholic Cherry Lemonade to start.  Others were straight into the Rochefort.

 Doris asked what we were looking for:’ Bier sans fumeurs.’ I replied.  ‘Mais tous es Brasseries sont non fumeurs, c’est les regles!’  I could be wrong, but this is rare, apparently on July 1st, all of Belgium went non-smoking.  ‘Telephonez les Agents!’ was my reply.  In February of this year smoking was not an issue in the places Marg and I visited, but these all sold food.

A wandering we shall go

 With itinerary in hand we set off looking for one of the three listed venues.  The Cave de Bieres is opposite the Station.  A crowd at the door communicated the fact that the smoking regulations were in place.  In we go…  the music blared, the place was full of weans… the draught Biers were studied, difficult because the taps were not all labelled.  There was a decent array of Bier in the fridge.  The barman served someone else and ignored the fact that eight people had just entered the premises.  The phone rang, he answered it… we left.

 Bouffon du Roi

With greater familiarity with the map and the streets we found our way down Rue Godfroid to Rue de Bruxelles and our next port of call.  There was still music, loud on occasion, but this would be home for what was left of the evening.

Robin and Hector shared a reasonably priced, for Belgium, 75cl bottle of La Chouffe.  This is Hector’s favourite Blonde Belgian Bier and will feature strongly in this trip.  When I find on on draught there will be no holding me back.  We stayed for another round by which time we were all drinking La Chouffe or its darker brother McChouffe.  The door was locked; we were asked if we wanted more drink.  A lock in!  Superb!  We declined, finished up and went home to sleep.  Tomorrow is the official start of the Hootenanny.

Day 1

Le Weekend, well so it said on the ticket to Brussel, home of Tin-Tin, Belgium’s most famous person.  €8 return, better than I anticipated.  It was at the rendezvous with Jonathan and Dr Stan in Bruxelles Midi that we found it that today is a national holiday: Cantillon is closed!  The itinerary had yet again fallen short of expectation.  Neil had by now given it the title to which it will henceforth be identified: The Tin-Tinary.

BlackBerry Way

The resurrected BlackBerry revealed a memo relating to Moeder Lambic, just up from Brussel Sud.  Minutes later we we there.  46 Bier taps!  Yes, 46!

Hector’s first choice was a Cantillon Kriek variant, my first ever Cantillon on draught.  The 0.25 portion did not last and it was soon into the classic Cantillon Geuze.

The Chaps were each satisfying their personal preferences. Dr Stan and Hector had one major preference, not to sit here all day and disintegrate. Craig was finally convinced that there were other pubs in Brussel which might sell decent Bier.

We became tourists momentarily as we walked through the Grand Place in the drizzle.  The forecast for the rest of this trip was poor.

*

The classic Bier house, Morte Subite was the next port of call.  In 1997 the close proximity of the seating which probably has not changed since the place opened some ninety years ago, and the smoke, did not make this place so appealing.  With the dawn of Belgium’s enlightenment the place deserves its classic status.

The Morte Subite Kriek and St. Feullien Grand Cru were my imbibements.  Once again we knew we had to leave.  Such are the limitations of a one day tour.

Dr Stan and Jonathan had arrived in Brussel the night before and had spent some time in Delirium Tremens, a new student and tourist attraction.

La Chouffe’s Houblon was the Bier Jonathan insisted I try.  Getting served was another issue.  There was a single Doris trying to serve an entire bar with about twenty people waiting to be served.  It was not her fault she had been left to this.  Wetherspoons and their lack of staff and service came to mind.  She objected to Hector waiving his cash, it worked, I was served.

Two half litres of this ever so modest unfiltered/hoppy version of one of my favourite Belgian Biers,  Howard had the other, then it was his round.  This set us up for the day.

*

*

*

The Puppet Theatre

Toone is a hoot.  Dr Stan, Al and Hector had a very late session there one evening back in 2003 and this was after a day trip to Koln.  Draught Kwak is the attraction, served in the unique wooden stand, this Ambre Ale may be out of sorts with the style of Bier Hector normally consumes, but it is sheer perfection.

Some of the group did not make it this far.  Some of us went back to Namur from Centraal, after a walk in the rain.  Some found the Nord station instead.  We all returned to Namur by different trains, Hector went for the first Curry-Heute of the trip.  Somewhere in all this Les Freres arrived.  One spoke without a pause for twenty minutes, the full Duracell effect, the other said nothing.  This would be the feature of the next eight days.

Namur Bars

Cafe Thai, Rue de Nameche

Bouffon Du Roi, 60 Rue de Bruxelles

Chapitre 1, Place du Chapitre

Cave a Bieres, 68 Rue Godfroid

Our favourite Brussel’s outlets

Moeder Lambic, 8 Place de Fontainas

Cantillon, 56 Rue Gheude

Morte Subite, 7 Rue Montagne

Falstaff, 17 Rue Henri Maus

Toone, Impasse Schuddeveld and the Impasse Sainte Pétronille

Cafe Delirium, Impasse de la Fidélité 4A

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One day in Berlin

Posted on July 13, 2011 by Hector

The perfect end to a Greek vacation…

Prior to the reported and impressive Curry-Heute at the Naveena Path, Hector and Marg had done the tourist thing. This did involve the most expensive of coffees, by volume, at the Hotel Maritim on Friedrichstrasse. Hector’s reward for his patience was the lack of protest at suggesting we stop off at the Maximillian Brauhaus further down the same street towards Checkpoint Charlie. This is a Bayerische style outlet, or Paulaner Haus to be more precise.

Paulaner Helles und Dunkels

A half litre of Paulaner Helles (VF) was a welcome sight. After two weeks of drinking cold, yellow, fizzy Greek offerings, it was wonderful to actually taste a Bier. Paulaner is of course cold, yellow and perhaps not so fizzy. Hector was home.

Marg was halfway though her Apfelschorle when the Dunkels was mooted. Everyone else appeared to be drinking the Dunkels, so not wishing to be left out, one was ordered up.

To drink a dark Bier after a light one is always refreshingly different. This too disappeared in very quick time. One would think I hadn’t seen Bier for weeks, well in reality, I hadn’t.

Berlin’s finest Hausbräuerei

 Eschenbräu (Triftstraße 67, 13353 Berlin-Wedding) is not the sort of venue which relies on passing trade. Wedding is a few stops north of the centre the area is not that attractive. It is improving by the year, though whether one would feel totally safe walking around here on one’s own is another matter. The Brauhaus is located in the basement of a fairly modern block of flats. In the summer months, most people sit outside in what effect is the back court area of the flats. The ambience is superb as the sun sets and fades to twilight. The subliminal lighting in the trees then leaves one forgetting that the neighbours could be watching.

 The Bier at Eschenbräu has improved markedly in recent visits. Last year we were over for the Berlin Biermeile and ended each night back here drinking the truly superb Weizen Bock. They claimed, wrongly, that it is the only Weizen Bock brewed in Germany. We listed a few and put the Brewer right. Yes, we met the Braumeister! Could this be on again?

The normal Weisse was available, this month’s Spezial was a Rote Bier. As Hector established the situation with the Doris serving from the small hut in the garden, two Chaps spotted my Czech polo shirt and called me – … a Bier Guru. Nice to be recognised. A third Chap asked me from which house it was from, he had never seen it. This was the key moment of the evening.

Weizen Hell

 The Weisse Bier poured like milk. The yeast hung in the glass and settled more slowly than I have ever witnessed. I have seen globules of yeast sink rapidly to the base of the glass, this was a new experience. Now Hector tends to restrict his Weissbier intake these days. The party of the late 1990’s is well and truly over. This went down so easily. It was perfect. The kick of the Bock was obviously not there, but one knew there would be more.

 I came for one, Gunter came for two, we had three

 The Chap who had spoken to me last joined the adjacent table. It was clear he was ready to chat. This would please Marg no end. Gunter, no ‘h’, is a teacher of English. He is an avid reader of fiction and only reads in the English language. He particularly enjoys Scotland’s own Ian Rankine. We inevitably discussed the consumption of Bier. ‘How did you find this place?’ I had to admit that this was in fact my fifth visit to Eschenbräu and that I had been taken the first time. That we have stayed in Wedding in recent visits has not been totally coincidental.

Gunter has not been to all of the Bamberg houses, shame. The Bier Houses of Koln and Dusseldorf were rhymed off. There was a consensus that apart from our present location, the Biers of Berlin are not all that great.

 Hector had spotted the Brewer arrive on his bike whilst Marg took the ritual photograph at the entrance. He appeared suddenly and whispered in Gunter’s ear. Gunter was straight on the phone…

Yir tea’s ready

 I understood enough of the conversation to know that the lady on the other end of the phone was wondering why her Beau was not home for his tea. Indeed, Gunter may have been sent out for the ingredients. The ground was set, the third Bier was approved.

New décor

 Prior to our departure I checked out the facilities. One still feels that one is in the basement of a flat and a local could emerge from any door at any time. The main room has been expanded appreciably. There is also a new laminate floor. No longer does the house feel like a bunker. Business must be booming, and no wonder with the quality of the Bier served.

 Marg thoroughly enjoyed her third visit to Eschenbräu

Off to Hackerschermarkt

 

 

 

 

 

We went looking for the reported Andechs Haus. With Hector’s technology now subsiding the declining Greek economy, he was unable to establish the locus. The rain was back. Time to get indoors. Lemke Hausbraueri was the only place which appeared to have any Bier of distinction.

Zwickel Bier

 Not the wonderful Bier served at Konigsbacher, Koblenz. This was another example of micro breweries still being unable to make a Bier that doesn’t taste home-made.

After five visits in as many years, Hector should know better.

 

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A night out in Crawley

Posted on June 27, 2011 by Hector

The first part of the summer vacation, proper

Yes, Hector and Marg sped back from Yorkshire, repacked their bags, and the very next day headed back to England.  This time the aeroplane took the strain.  Mr Stelios had brought our flights forward, nice chap.  This meant we were in Crawley in good time to go for a Curry-Heute and some Biers before flying out to Santorini at an unearthly hour the next day.
The Downsman (Wakehurst Drive, Southgate, Crawley, West Sussex, RH10 6DH) has been spoken about by Lord Clive for some time.  It is the pub closest to his home, but not his local.  For Curry-Heute purposes, Hector would challenge the logic in this.
Lady Maggie was not available and so Debs was brought in to balance the numbers.  She was out for the Curry only and did not go on to The Swan afterwards.

Wychwood’s (Witney, Oxfordshire) Hobgoblin at 4.5% was the Ale of choice to set the evening going.  Why is this Bier available in bottles in a stronger version?  The reality is, when Curry is available, Hector is not that interested in Bier, and so I switched to something, cold, yellow and fizzy afterwards.  Given what faces me in Greece in the next 15 days…

And so to The Swan

Most of the Ales Hector has supped in Crawley over the years have been at The Swan (Horsham Road, West Green, Crawley, West Sussex, RH11 7AY).

Dark Star’s (Brighton) Hophead at 3.8% was a relatively gentle start.  Despite its light strength it packs more flavour than many Ales at this strength.  One always hopes for the American Pale Ale, but then that is why we go to the Evening Star (Brighton) whenever the chance presents.

Titanic’s (Stoke-on-Trent) Nautical Mild at 4.8% was a step up and a way of saying farewell to Ale.  There will be nothing like this downed in Greece, unless I manage to get to a certain Craft Brewery in Athens.


It was an early night.

 

 

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The Biers of the Bradford Weekend

Posted on June 26, 2011 by Hector

Hector and Marg went tearing down the M74 as soon as the bell went. No Mahogany (Teachers’ New Year’ ) for us. Marg has a Vets hockey tournament in Sheffield, Hector was taking the opperchancity of maximising the Curry intake before July’s self imposed barren period. Mr. Holden the Curry-Guru of Bradford was to be my host. The fact that he also is responsible for organising Bradford’s Real Ale Festival may be the attraction most relevant to this Blog.     A lover of Curry and Bier?

Oh no, there’s two of them!

It was still raining when I abandoned the car in Brighouse, the closest spot we could find to the M62 which had Ale. Marg sped on in the dark to her hockey tournament. I approached a chap at the bus shelter and asked for directions to the Richard Oastler, the local Wetherspoons. Another chap passing by had overheard: ‘Follow me.’ I did, it was around the corner. I entered at 21.30, my ETA had been within acceptable parameters.

The Richard Oastler is one of the two Brighouse pubs I had previously visited with Ricky last October, Marg drove. It is a converted Methodist church and the interior décor is certainly impressive. There was no sign of Ricky and so I got myself up an Ale. Ossett’s Excelsior is one of my favourites. Sadly this evening it did not hit the spot at all. No matter how much I tried.

Ricky was found under a balcony sitting with friends. The majority left after a good bit of banter. There was now Mr Holden, Hector and Eamon. The latter was to be dragged into our Curry plan. The optimum departure time from Brighouse was discussed, the penultimate bus was decided upon.

At the very same bus stop as previously encountered, we were advised that the next bus was the last. Mr Holden’s Tours are legendary for their (d)efficiency.

The bars of Bradford have been a mystery to Hector for some time. Ricky has observed the quality Ale pubs are moving out of the city as the ethnic diversity of Bradford becomes minimal. Haigys Bar (31 Lumb Lane, Bradford, BD8 7QU) was the venue of choice, that it is around the corner from one of Bradford’s Curry Houses – the Sheesh Mahal may have had something to do with this.

The outside of Haigys is done up in the colours of Bradford F.C. I felt I was in Motherwell. The Bier choice was extensive, the Ale choice was apparently not up to its usual standard.

The Super Chief, a light hoppy pale Ale at 4.6% (Bob’s Brewing Co, Ossett) looked as though it ticked the boxes.  Sadly it was less than impressive.  More hops required.  After a couple of pints of less than impressive Ale I switched to something cold, yellow and fizzy. Perhaps my mind was on more important things.

The charge hand was in good form. He was in no hurry to see us leave. We enjoyed the hospitality. There was just the three of us left, closing time?

Later at Chez Holden, I was permitted to share a bottle of La Gauloise, the best Bier of the evening. Ricky’s funny hat collection made an appearance. This was the first time I had stayed at Ricky’s, if this is what one does whilst listening to old Yes CDs then this is fine with me.

The Saturday

Otley – this is where Ricky now wanted to go. He was raving about an array of great new pubs opened in the town. Menston- Ilkley – Otley, this is where my Yorkshire sojourn began back in 1996. I had been promised Sowerby Bridge, Todmorden and Hebden Bridge, something new please.

With a local rover ticket for two in hand, we took a bus and then the train to Sowerby Bridge.

The Jubilee Restrooms at Sowerby Bridge Station are another in the world of great Ale outlets along the train lines between Leeds and Manchester – The Ale Trail. To say this venue was an old station waiting room given a lick of paint and an Ale tap or two installed would pretty much describe it. Echoes, bare floor, some Ale and Station memorabilia adorn the walls. We had either forty minutes, or an hour before our next train. Ricky’s plan was to see the train arrive on platform and then stroll on t’train. Having missed the first train, we had another pint. It was too short, the train, he didn’t see it come in…

Willow’s Wood, a 4.2% offering from the Old Mill Brewery, Snaith, was the Ale which set us up for the day.  Light and slightly hoppy, a refreshing and undemanding start to the proceedings.

Serendipity

As a result of missing the first train we had gained a follower for the day. Richard, no not that one, a local from Sowerby Bridge decided to join our quest for good Ale.

This time we stood on the platform and waited for the train, somehow we managed not to miss it. A few minutes later we alighted at Todmorden. Twenty fours hours prior to this I had never heard of the place. I suspect it may feature again in future trips.

The Queen Hotel at the station (Rise Lane, Todmorden, OL14 7AA) had an array of Ales to satisfy all tastes. What we had not envisaged was the mob who also alighted from the train. Some of them were Ale drinkers, some were lager boys, what they all had in common was volume. We did not hang about, the strategy now being to get a step ahead.

 

Moorhouse’s (Lancashire) Blond Witch at 4.5% was a slight step in strength and was perhaps a bit more rewarding.  Again light in colour, this was establishing the trend.

The Polished Knob (31 Burnley Road, Todmorden).  Now there is a name for a pub.

A charming young lady serving behind the bar exchanged good banter as Hector did the photographic survey of what was a good sized pub. We opted to sit at a high table just off the immediate bar area. With a big agenda for the day before us, it was a case of sup up and go. Little did Hector know he would be back so soon.

Elland Brewery’s Blond Citrus Bitter at 4.2% was in keeping of the Bier style demanded by Hector.

 The town of Todmorden was appealing in terms of the blending of the old architectural style with the new. Some very impressive buildings were passes as was a pub which no longer had Ale.

We arrived at a pink monstrosity. Who has been watching too much Ballamory? A lilac-pink pub? In we go.

The Gallery, the BareArts brewery outlet (110 Rochdale Rd , Todmorden, OL14 7LP) had some cumfy chairs at the entrance, these were already occupied. The staff took us on. They set us the task of choosing a bottle from the extensive list.

It was then suggested by the very cooperative staff that we have the Ale poured into jugs so that we could each sample the produce. We took our place in the far room and got down to the business of supping Ale. The Bier was a couple of degrees too warm for Hector’s palate.

The resolve was made to return, but at a time of year when the natural ambience would chill the Bier to a more acceptable level. The opening times can be difficult to decipher I am told. We have the phone number. (Howard and Craig would love this place, 5% plus features prominently in the range.)

Holden Tours

Richard and Ricky had worked out the optimum time to leave to catch the bus. To Hebden Bridge. Missing it by minutes were decanted once more to the Polished Knob. En route to Todmorden, Mr. Holden had related his experience of a market and Black Pudding. At the end of the day this would lead to the most memorable feature of the weekend – Hector and Co evicted from pub. Having contacted Derek of Kelburn Brwery fame earlier in the day to inform him that I had spotted an Ale with estivo as part of it nomenclature (Pivo Estivo being one of Derek’s creations), this was the first time I had seen the term employed in this country outside of the Paisley source. At 3,8% it was not really on my radar, but what the… let’s try it. This would turn out to be a wise decision.

The Estivator Ale was from Old Bear of Keighley.

Richard disappeared first, then Ricky. They both returned with their purchases from the market across the street. Richard unwrapped the smallest of pies which was topped with a layer of the much celebrated Todmorden Black Pudding. As altruism was to the fore, a knife was liberated from an adjacent shelf and said pie was cut into slivers for sampling purposes.

A Bert appeared

‘Get out of my restaurant!’ Now Hector looked up in surprise, firstly because of the suddenness of the outburst from a person who had appeared from nowhere, and secondly because as I gathered myself and looked around the pub, in no way had the word restaurant come into my mind. The guy was serious! He kept repeating his request, Hector and Mr Holden had pretty much a full pint before us. He wanted us out – now. Ricky asked for a refund, none was offered, we carried on supping. Still the chap continued, his audience now diminishing somewhat because one suspects the other drinkers, were there any diners (?), were probably embarrassed by the continuing harassment. Richard had finished smartly and left. We continued, With reference to the used knife on the table: ‘I have to pay people to wash the cutlery...’ Ricky offered to wash it. We were playing with the poor chap.

Now Hector’s understanding of Scot’s Law is that one can only be asked to leave licensed premises in such a manner if a refund for the Beer before one is provided. This is the practice I have observed, but have never fallen victim to in approaching forty years of drinking in pubs. What the law is in Yorkshire, who knows. Our pints were disappearing faster than was planned, just as well they were at the low ABV end of the market. Still Bert stood at the end of the table barking away.

We took our time and left, without a raised voice or angry word on our part.

It was mid-afternoon, we were in good spirits, at the time of day when such minor setbacks can be taken in one’s stride. We joined Richard at the bus stop and headed for Hebden Bridge.

The Unfortunate

Having left quietly, with our heads held high, all dignity on our part had been maintained. As for the chap we had upset… Yes a liberty had been taken using the premises knife, but we had offered to wash it. The chap was clearly in the wrong business. A quiet word was all that was needed and the offending pie would have been put away. To stand up in one’s own premises and put on such a display to the gallery was simply poor.

Are we not all European? In Parisian Cafes, one can order a coffee and eat anything one likes to bring in. Throughout Germany one can bring baskets of food and consume it, even when the venue sells a full menu. In Glasgow a take away from any Chippie is accepted.  What have we come too?

To the good people of Todmorden, I like your town, I even liked your pubs. I will be back unless my photograph is on display with a reward sign. Him, you can keep.

Perhaps he wasn’t a Yorkshireman?

Hebden Bridge

This was another first for Hector. How it can be nine miles from Haworth I do not understand. The highways and byeways of Yorkshire must take devious routes to get from A to B. (Haworth, the Bronte Village, is one of Hector and Marg’s weekend break destinations and will feature eventually.)

The first pub, The Stubbing Wharf (King Street , Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire , HX7 6LU), is famous for its Cider festival, to be held, wait for it, next weekend. A fine sized venue with a good array of Ales and some lovely young Dorises serving. The menus were on the table, that this was an eating establishment too was self evident. Ricky took out his remaining Black Pudding and polished it off, no he didn’t!

The Ale of choice was Tabatha, The Knackered at 6% from The Anglo Dutch Brewery.  Let all Ales be light and hoppy, Hector was doing well, I could easily have stayed and made a session out of this delightful Bier, but I was dragged away, perhaps in good time.

Just along the road from the Stubbing Wharf was the award winning Fox and Goose (9 Heptonstall Road, Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire, HX7 6AZ).

This was a much smaller venue with a considerable range of Biers both domestic and European. We were destined to stay here a while. Having become used to one chap serving at the bar, his shift ended and the proprietor took over. It is with he with whom Hector is photographed.

Sunshine Pale, Pale Premium Bitter at 5.3 % from Pennine Beers got us underway again.  Another thoroughly enjoyable Ale.  This day out was reaching legendary status.  Hebden Bridge, Hector will be back…

This was a thoroughly pleasant visit. Were we in the same valley as Todmorden? The same county? By now the three of us were telling our story to anyone who would listen, even people with parachutes on their back…

A rather substantial bus station provided the means of our return to Bradford. It was fond farewell to Richard, no not that one, and time for the main event of the day: Curry at The International.

The Sunday

Hector suspected that he would be doing the bulk of the driving from Bradford back to Scotland.  He was right, just as well I did not have a Bier in what Mr Holden describes as Bradford’s finest pub…

I bet the suspense is killing…

Posted in Yorkshire, Brighouse, Hebden Bridge, Sowerby Bridge, Todmorden, Bradford | Comments Off on The Biers of the Bradford Weekend

Kölsch at Steve’s Command

Posted on May 8, 2011 by Hector

It was Steve who spotted the possibility of a two affordable nights in Köln courtesy of Mr Stelios. The problem was the timing of the flight, could we get from Helensburgh to Edinburgh Airport in time? With the ever dutiful Marg driving us though we could, she did. That a Boeing was parked at the airport decked out in the colours of Iron Maiden made us curious, are they in town, is this simply a commercial. I never did bother to find out.

Dr Stan was waiting

When Dr Stan announced that he was going to Bamberg on a trio run by Ronnie form the Three Judges (Glasgow) there was little interest. We have our own trip planned for the Bocks later in the year. It was the realisation that en route Dr Stan could be in Köln, well it was too much to miss.

We checked in to my new favourite Köln hotel, Colonia (Christophstrasse 16, Altstadt, Köln, 50670) my third visit since the Weinachtsmarkt in December. Dr Stan was becoming impatient, ‘Dr Stan becoming impatient?’ I hear, well it may have been a case of how much longer he had to sit alone waiting nursing a glass of Kölsch.

Früh am Dom

We found Dr Stan in the Keller almost hiding in a corner at the bar. Had we not known he was there he would never have been found. The test tubes were brought to the table and quickly dispatched, we had a thirst. There was no way Steve and Hector could play catch-up, but try we did. The more than accommodating Köbe kept them coming. The second best Kölsch in Hector’s book, and served Direkt, by gravity.

We had chosen the Keller because on a Friday night we would expect this to be open latest. (On a Sunday for example, one is best to sit in the man room at ground level.) The ashtrays were distributed, a chap lit up, we drank up and left. Why let the smoking ban lapse for the last hour or so?

Gaffel am Dom

With 100% confidence that the new Gaffel Haus (the old Alt Köln Gilden house) would be open late-ish, we walked across the Dom Platz gazing upwards as ever. This building never ceases to impress. I even went into it once, and climbed to the top. Well it was a Marg thing.

A new set of test tubes were ordered and arrived with the usual efficiency. Gaffel is always served under pressure. That it is rated so highly, usually third overall, makes one wonder what would happen if we could find an outlet with a barrel on the bar.

Dr Stan was fading fast and stated to make his excuses. He did leave, eventually. Dr Stan is not in this saga any more. This left Steve and Hector to complete the customary litre and think about going back to the hotel. ‘But the Gilden House may still sell Steak with Garlic Butter at 03.00’, stated Hector…

The Gilden Haus

The Gilden House is relatively small compared to other outlets. We have had some great – late – nights here over the years. There was only a handful of customers, and some of these may have been staff – smoking. What the…

This house at least sells Kölsch in 0.3l glasses instead of the normal 0.2l. It is amazing how we love the novelty of a test tube until something larger is offered.

We called it a day.

The Saturday

The plan for today was, well Hector’s plan was – and Steve was not protesting, was to do the Kölsch Houses on foot. As we were not leaving the city there was little reason to invest in transportation, and nothing is too far away from anywhere else.

Päffgen

This of course is the real Päffgen and not the one of almost similar nomenclature at Heumarkt.

It was not yet noon, the temperature was such that a walk of any distance would work up a thirst. It was less than ten minutes from our hotel around the ring road to Päffgen. We used to think of this place as as lying quite a bit out of town, but greater knowledge of where the ring road goes on the west side of the city has changed this, knowledge brought about by the search for Curry Houses.

We were not quite alone in the Bier House. Soup was also ordered, just to offer the palate another sensation. Hector of course was saving his food appetite for a certain Curry House…  A couple of test tubes set us on our way.

It was an appreciably longer walk around the southern end of the ring road passed Barbarossaplatz towards, Chlodwigplatz, or South Koln as Dr Stan likes to call. it. We used to come this way by the tram to get to the former Dom Keller, an outlet that is sadly missed, especially on a hot day like this. Hector and Marg were the first in the company to seek out the new Reissdorf House and in the process stumbled upon Fruh em Veedel (now Dr Stan’s favourite Köln pub– I thought he was not in this saga any more…) and perhaps another  Gaffel outlet.

Früh em Veedel

There is a sense that much of this building must have have avoided the forced redecoration after 1945. The room on the right is smoke free – yeah!, the room to the left is for the coffin dodgers – boo! A lovely Doris served us, repeatedly, Direkt from a 15l barrel. We took the photos, drank the Bier and planned the Curry. The atmosphere here is certainly more pub like. Perhaps it is heresy for us to come to this part of the city when for years we have only been permitted, by our own rules, to visit Brewery Taps, The Source!

Crossing past the Tor, the southern gate to the city, we made the short walk up the road toward Reissdorf. There was the certain matter of a Curry-Heute.  The ever improving Köln Curry scene is described at: A weeekend of Kölsch and Curry

Reissdorf – Zum Alten Brauhaus

I have raved about this outlet since my first visit in February. It is similar in dimensions to the main House on Klein Griechenmarkt. This house is smoke-free throughout. I also feel less, approaching no allegiance to the other place given the mass change in staff of late.

The Kolsch here is also served Direkt and is significantly cheaper than the prices in the inner city. Same Bier, better price, cleaner air. We were here for the full shift. The football was on tv too, so we became 1FC Köln supporters for the afternoon.

Mühlen

The sun was still shining intensely on the streets of Köln when we emerged to walk back towards Neumarkt. I even spotted a new Curry House just behind Mühlen would never have seen had I not approached from this new direction. This place was remarkably quiet. The Bier was distinctly more bitter than the relatively maltier Reissdorf. Poured Direkt, we did the litre.

Sünner im Walfisch

 

The place with the towers as the chaps at the Bon Accord (Glasgow) will recall only too well. This place can be very busy, but as it was not our intention to eat, we went into The Pit on the right at the entrance. The barman was kept busy serving Direkt from his barrel for the  entire outlet.

Schreckenskammer

Marg and Hector popped up here in February only to find it closed. I think this is how I tend to find it, the place does not open early in the day. The sawdust on the floor took us back to a time before we were even born. There were scant few customers. The service was terrible. We got served, struggled to get a refill and left. I believe the Bier was served Direkt, but as we were far away from what little activity there was , who knows? I do not thing we will be in too much of a hurry to return.

Brauhaus Sion

This house tends to get done on short visits being adjacent to Früh am Dom, Gilden, Peters and the main Gaffel on Alter Markt. We sat inside the doorway, many were outside and the time was passing. It was getting late, the was the last port of call. The Bier was served Direkt as every Bier today had been. This in itself was quite an achievement.

It was time for some nocturnal repose. Thanks to Mr Stelios, our flight tomorrow is not until 21.00. We have a full day in front of us…. zzzz….

The Brewery Taps visited this weekend:

Früh am Dom  –  Am Hof, 50667, Köln

Gaffel am Dom  –  Bahnhofsvorplatz 1, 50667, Köln

The Gilden Haus  –  Große Budengasse,10, 50667, Köln

Päffgen  –  Friesenstraße 64-66, 50670, Köln

Früh em Veedel  –  Chlodwigplatz 28, 50678, Köln

Reissdorf – Zum Alten Brauhaus  –  Severin Strasse 51, 50678

Mühlen  –  Brauerei zur Malzmühle, Heumarkt 6, 50667, Köln

Sünner im Walfisch  –  Salzgasse 13, 50667, Köln

Schreckenskammer  –  Ursulagarten str. 11-15, 50668, Köln

Brauhaus Sion  –  Unter Taschenmacher 5, 50667, Köln

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Nordrhein Westphalen, Köln | Comments Off on Kölsch at Steve’s Command

One day in Antwerp

Posted on February 16, 2011 by Hector

The first trip to Antwerpen, there shall certainly be more

It is over an hour from Brugge, via Gent to Antwerpen. On arriving at the station one knew that this would be a city of taste. The station building is out of this world. The original sandstone construction has been cleaned up and the ornate décor that was probably covered in soot from bygone days now revealed in all its splendour. The station has trains leaving on three levels. I cannot understand how Antwerp can have a Metro system, the water table cannot be far below the ground’s surface.

The Tourist Information Office on the station concourse supplied a map. Google Maps had led me to believe the Central Station lay further south. We were not too far from the old town, about a ten minute walk at our athletic pace. The Cathedral was certainly the focal point. We walked down the main broad shopping street in the new town and could see the architecture improve by the minute, especially after we had passed a modern skyscraper-like monstrosity of the trip.

The first Bier port of call was to be the Kathedraalcafe Elfde gebod, the Eleventh Apostle (Torbrug 10, 2000 Antwerpen). The place took some finding despite being right beside the west wall of the Cathedral. The Cathedral icon on the map blocked the streets pattern around the very building the map was locating. Yes, I think we found the Cathedral easily, the streets around made little sense. With this experience there should be no problem in the summer trip.

Don’t Blink


The understatement of the year would be to mention that there are statues in this Brasserie. There are hundreds. I do not think I have had a Bier in a church before, it felt as if I was about to. The main business was to order lunch. An expensive, but excellent Spaghetti Bolognaise was accompanied by a 375ml bottle of Morte Subite Geuze( €3.60). This was decidedly tame after the Cantillon and Hanssens of the previous day.

The Brasserie is an absolute hoot. The people I would love to bring here and photograph. It would be an opportunity to be photographed with some famous icons. All of the celebrities are here. Or that would be the conclusion of anyone looking at the photos afterwards. One wonders of the icons are leftovers from buildings of religion which have gone bust or if there are more mysterious things at work here.

The place certainly brought a smile to all those who arrived after us. The range of Biers is impressive, draught too. It was also at this point when Hector realised that the prices were approximately half of those in Brugge.

If these are the prices outside of the great tourist trap in the north, then Gent must be affordable too. It was at this moment I sent out my text to the Chaps: ‘Thought for the day…’ No way should we base ourselves in Brugge this summer. Gent is Geographically better located too.

Marg and I wandered towards the River Scheldt and around the castle. The castle is little more than a thoroughfare, Neuschwanstein it is not. We found ourselves back in the Kornmaarkt and then found some ‘shopping streets’.

Brasserie #2 was looming

De Groote Witte Arend, The White Eagle (Reynderstraat 18, 2000 Antwerpen) was off the street at the far side of a courtyard. Presumably in summer this will be filled will tables and smokers. It is so unhealthy outdoors these days. The was a church which Marg went to investigate but was closed.

 The bar was at the door on entry with the main room to the right. It was bright and airy, oh what a change it is to be in Belgium and breath. The waiter instantly stated winding up Marg. No, he didn’t mind if Marg had milk in her Earl Grey tea. Apparently he did because the milk never came.

I ordered the House Bier but was then told ‘it wiz aff’. A substitute draught Bier was offered. At 9% I was not caring, bring it on.

Troubadour Magna (€3.40) is a Blond. One does not throw these Biers down one’s throat and so Marg was able to order another drink. She had spotted the ladies drinking what looked like a yellow milkshake. It was egg yolk with Bier, allegedly. Marg had it, her first ‘Bier’.

I don’t believe it…

In Germany the best Bier houses do not sell the best coffee. In Belgium Marg is able to find content in every venue chosen. The fact that they are from the Good Bier Guide to Belgium is not coincidental. We took a circuitous walk south to give time between ‘coffees’ and to see more of the town. I like Antwerp, a fine atmosphere.

Kulminator is one of the best pubs on the planet, so an American guy announced from the far end of the bar. The bar area is adorned with a variety of accoutrements which make seeing over it challenging. There was an old Bert, Einstein’s brother, and an ancient Doris. We were destined to become friends, especially when I stood up for my second Bier and asked Doris to choose. She decided that after L’achouffe N’Ice (€3.70) I should sample their other draught Bier, another schwarzbier. (€3.80). Both measures were around the 300ml mark.

The Bier menu had Biers on the list that were scored out. The place tries to supply vintage Bier, but you pay through the nose for say a bottle of Cantillon 98. (I think I have one in my kitchen.) As they are drunk so they are scored off. Real Bier ticking?

I told Bert and Doris that I would be back in the summer. They said they would be closed in July, what is this? Does Belgium become invaded during the Scottish school holidays by undesirables? We worked out that they would be open on Monday, July 25. The Chaps will love it.

On our way back to the Kornmaarkt to investigate a Curry House, we found one open. The Curry-Heute entry for Antwerp is reported.

We had time to marvel at the station building once more before speeding back to Brugge.

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Three Nights in Brugge

Posted on February 14, 2011 by Hector

Has it really been 5 years?

The early rise to meet the 07.40 flight courtesy of Mr O’Leary to Charleroi is best forgotten. What cannot be forgotten is the increasingly nasty attitude of the dispatch staff at Edinburgh Airport who must be on a bonus to collect baggage check-in fees at the gate. Some people do try to take liberties I have no problem with ‘one piece of hand luggage’ being enforced, but marginal weight or size limits being enforced as rigorously as I have witnessed of late is simply extortion.

Charleroi has a new Terminal building. Nobody tells Hector anything. I had worked out that the days of the flat rate train ticket to ‘anywhere’ in Belgium had gone. The ticket machine at the Airport did not like UK ‘plastic’.

Hector and Marg arrived in Brugge around 14.00, perfection. The taxi driver took us in the Katelijnen Portal and passed the Ibis where we had stayed last time. I knew that the Gruutshushof Restaurant was approaching so I asked Marg if she remembered her last trip. She remembered there was a lovely little restaurant where we had out Valentine’s Day dinner. ‘You mean this one?’ This was perfect timing as the gushet restaurant appeared right before us. Marg didn’t know we were already booked in for 19.30.

The Hotel Ter Reien was located just north of the Maarkt. I have never stayed in the same hotel twice in Brugge. The place was quiet, the room small. Breakfast was fine for those who wish to eat first thing.

Having missed breakfast and dinner time, there was a need for a late lunch of modest proportion. Marg selected Gambrinus (Philipstockstraat 19) which is a new venue in The Guide. Marg has an uncanny knack of spotting the listed places with no knowledge at all of their pedigree. They had a vast array of bottled Bier as one would hope in a Belgian Bier House. The draft Bier was not so impressive: Drei Fonteinen Kriek seemed a good way to kick of the tour. The price: €7.50, ouch!

This fine Bier from Beersel was dry, sour and fruity. Hector is in Belgium drinking Belgian Bier: superb!

Hector was already feeling the prospect of a revolt in the summertime Hootenanny. A day out at these prices would be crippling.

Marg had declared that frequent stops for ‘coffee’ would be her ideal. In Belgium this means quality bier available too, especially when I get to choose the location. The next stop was Marg’s choice, and so I ended up with a draught Charles of whose origin I knew nothing. It was dark and fizzy. The location was on the SE corner of Maarkt,  touristy.

Marg took us window shopping around some chocolate shops. I knew that Staminee De Garre (De Garre 1, Brugge, 8000) was in the lane between the two that had just enticed her  most recently. In we go, and a bottle of Cantillon Geuze was soon before me. It has been a while, Paisley Beerfest perhaps when we sold it as ‘Lager’ in the final hour. This Bier is sour, very sour. It is a Bier that requires patience. Lord Clive hates it, Robin loves it. Hector has been ambivalent; however today it went down as if it was an old friend.

With the afternoon rapidly disappearing it was time to go back for a WLD before presenting at The Gruuthushof. The restaurant sits over 20 in comfort where one accepts the proximity of the adjacent couple is such that it is best to ignore them. There were other Scottish voices, English and even French speakers. Who let them into Flanders?

The last visit was February 14, 2006. We had the special menu, it was good value. Tonight we repeated the format. At €42 this would be acceptable. Marg thought Rose Wine by the glass would enable me to keep enjoying the Bier.

‘ t Brugs Beertje

‘Daisy’s’ (Kemelstraat 5, 8000 Brugge) is Hector’s favourite Bier house in Brugge. Since I first set foot in the place in 1997 I have felt at home. That the Bier menu is massive is an an attraction. That I discovered what has remained my favourite Belgian Bier since then, and they always stock it, means that satisfaction is guaranteed. I had checked out the smoking regulations in Belgium prior to departure: there was a strong suggestion that the place was now non-smoking throughout.  Could this be true? It was! I recall on the Bon Accord trip here we were given a room through the back because we had overspilled from the bar. The air there was clean, but to sit in the corner in front of the bar and breathe real air was something one could never have envisaged back in ’97.

There was a prat

There always is. A young chap was holding fort and ‘practicing his English’. In reality he was trying to pick up a charming young female vet who appeared to be alone. There was a Scandinavian couple too. Ah English, the Lingua Franca. They were all well on. ‘I have space in my house, I put people up.’ sadly he also reported how many ‘friends’ he had around the world and how many places he was ‘welcomed’. Heaven forbid a twat like this ever turned up on your doorstep.

The Bier

For Hector, ‘t Brugs Beertje  has to include Hanssens Kriek.   It was Daisy who introduced Michael and I to it, explaining the lack of labels on the bottles, and how she identified each Bier by a coloured chalk mark.  Hanssens is the driest Kriek I have encountered. It is even more sour than Cantillon at Geuze level. The cheeks are drawn together with every sip. Marg deduced I was in discomfort, this is what putting Cherries into Bier is all about. At €6 for a 375ml bottle, expensive. This was the only venue I knew I could be certain of purchasing the Bier. The place would be closed tomorrow and Wednesday, the last chance saloon. Boon Kriek followed which was a complete disappointment. The Cantillon Kriek hit the spot.

They are also closed for two weeks in July. Daisy was not present this evening and so the guys behind the bar worked out that they should be open by the 25th July when we show up. We hope so.

Tuesday

There was meant to be a Curry-Heute, I had my venue located and a back-up too. In the end neither opened and there was great disappointment. The day began frustratingly too when I realised I had left the power cable for my typewriter at home. No electronic outlet in Brugge has the cable for a Samsung Netbook 210Plus.

This became a day of coffee and eventually a wee Bier or two; a wander around the edge of the city ring canal, windmills, canals, the sun was shining, very pleasant.

A return visit to Gambrinus was the first Bier stop of the day.   Corsendonk Blond was very fine indeed. Passing the Erasmus Hotel (closed) we stumbled upon 2be. The sign for ‘Wall of Bier’ had me hooked. What a place! There was a small cafe-bar at the end of a lane. Down one side is a set of glass enclosed shelves with bottles and their appropriate glasses. The ‘wall’ extended indoors, it was a trail Hector had to follow. Then the Bier was revealed: Kwak on draught….

It was Bier time, photo time, wind-up time, phone-call time. Robin and Howard had to know about this place, immediately.  Marg enjoyed the experience too, hot chocolate, on a stick!

The place is massive. There is an accompanying store, it is one perhaps three levels. Every Belgian Bier must be there. A floor devoted to 75cl bottles, a basement devoted to 375ml bottles. This is ‘Bier Paradise’. However, they shut early.

The other way

From the main canal down from Maarkt I always take the same route, not today. We took the ‘scenic route’ and somehow ended up at De Halve Maan, the Half Moon Brewery. (Walplein 26 Bruges 8000).  Back in the days when this was the Straffe Hendrik Brewery this venue was a must visit.  Hector always remembers Straffe Hendrik as having a similar malty after taste to Kelham Island’s Pale Rider.  Alas, neither of these Biers can be highly rated these days.

Wednesday

The first trip to Antwerpen, the account of this excursion appears in its own Post.  On the return to Brugge it was still early enough to justify another visit to La Garre en route to Ter Reien. The House bier was offered and accepted. A couple of bottles of Hanssens Kriek polished off the night. Perhaps Curry and Kriek is not a wonderful combination, or was it the cheese…

*

And so to Koln…

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