Yesterday got off to a bad start. An hour and forty minutes on a delayed District Line did nothing to cheer us up, nor did an enforced change of lines to the Piccadilly at Gloucester Road. We dashed through torrential rain to the hall as I was getting perilously close to being late for my beer tasting. I arrived in time, dishevelled and looking like a drowned rat. I was wet through to my underwear!
The tasting went well. They asked lots of good questions and gave me two rounds of applause. For those interested in such things, I talked the National Grid and guests through Tryst Wheat Beer, St Austell Proper Job, White Shield, Fullers 1845, O'Hanlon's Port Stout and Thomas Hardy Ale. No. I wouldn't have chosen that list either! The most interesting was the Proper Job. A pale, golden ale with lashings of Yankee hops. This was seriously good beer. The Fullers and the White Shield were underwhelming, though they, like the Thomas Hardy, will be better in a few months time. OK the TH will be better in a few years time!
What the public don't see is the scene behind the many bars. They are designed to give large working and rest areas at the rear and a tour of back stage reveals people sitting reading papers, drinking beer, poring over computers and dip sheets, hauling fresh beer out of coolers, stacking shelves, anxiously checking beer for clarity, or just quietly resting before hitting the fray again. Upstairs is a canteen which churns out grub for the hungry at reasonable prices, a bar The Volunteers Arms with twenty or so handpumps, plus all the admin and staffing areas as well as staff cloakrooms,toilets etc. There is an army of cleaners,site construction staff, fund raisers, hospitality staff and all sorts of weird backroom jobs that while not glamorous, are the glue that binds it all togther. For every person you see behind a bar dispensing beer, there is at least one other doing something more mundane, but as important. When you look at the sheer size and complexity of the festival it is a wonder that it gets done at all.
Today is going to be our busiest day at BSF. We will be battered. Friday night will be a massacre with queues more than four deep at our very long bar. We'll sort them out and see them off. We always do!
BRAPA - Thanx for the Manx (Part 7 of 7 : Leaving to Liverpool) - My final night then in Douglas, that now familiar feeling of arriving back on the bus in need of a pee, cold aching bones, a bit tipsy but not drunk, and h...
1 hour ago