Advent at Forchheim

Forchheim isn't just one of those charming Franconian towns that dominate the area between Bamberg and Nuremburg.  It is though, like many, picture postcard pretty, but in addition it has great interest to the beer traveller as the home of no less than four breweries.  But we aren't here for the beer - well not entirely. We are here to watch the unveiling of the Town Hall Advent Calendar window. The venerable Rathaus uses its many windows as the Schönster Adventskalender der Welt (“World’s Loveliest Advent calendar”). And, lit up with Christmas lights, in a fairy tale setting, it is indeed lovely. A decent sized Christmas Market, the inevitable mulled wine and bratwurst stands, an easy going and expectant crowd and a small funfair all add to the feeling of bonhomie - or rather gemütlichkeit.  The fairly large crowds, jostle for views in that polite but determined German way. There are happy children snaking around the stand up tables and there is even beer - not as common as you might suppose at Christmas Markets in Germany. No rip off prices here either, with a half litre of local pils at €2 and 50 cents back when you return the bottle.  There was a band too and an over cheerful MC who attempted to whip the crowd into a frenzy. At the appointed time, spotlighted from another building, a local schoolgirl, dolled up to the nines, opened the appropriate Rathaus window, waved to the crowd and made a charming speech to much good natured applause. The air was full of sizzling sausages, wine, donuts, pizza and Christmas cheer. In the cold, crisp December air, it was just perfect.

But man does not live by such bucolic scenes alone. We made our way to one of my favourite hostelries for proper beer.  The pub and brewery, Brauerei Neder,  is typically German. Seemingly small on the outside, but with a Tardis like interior. The side door to the main room was locked, so we made our way through the noisy corridor where it seemed everyone was smoking furiously and probably illegally, to the far door where we fought our way in.  We were immediately taken in hand by the female server, who said one word: "Zwo?" I nod and she snakes her way through the throng to the front of the pub and orders a group of drinkers to make room.  They do and we are told where to sit - edged against the locked door with a perfect view of the beer servery and the whole room. A prime spot.  Two beers are brought without further ado. Broadly in the kellerbier style, totally delicious and a mere €1.90 a pop.

Outside it is cold, but inside it is steamingly warm.  A couple of accordion playing dudes are giving Deutsche Blasmusik their all, while the crowd - some of them at least -  sing along, or tap their tables enthusiastically. Along the front of the pub, which somehow seems like the back wall, a group are playing Skat - or it could be Schafkopf, both of which are popular German card games of impenetrable rules, that, whichever it is, involve a lot of noisy shouting and table thumping.  Some play and others bawl encouragement or derision at the players from the sidelines. They compete happily with the accordionists and nobody seems to care. In the midst of all this good natured chaos, our matronly saviour slaps down half litre stone pots of beer as soon as an empty one is laid on its side - the signal from the thirsty that another is required. She is kept very busy.  Our tablemates, by now used to our presence, nod to us. Another one arrives and squeezes in, tapping with his knuckles on the table at our position. The unspoken greeting of Franconia.

We look at the crowd and having been there before, the odd face starts to look familiar.  There are some, shall we say,  rather individual types in this town that aren't easily forgotten. One or two raise their steins to us and we beam back. I'm watching the mystifying card game when E nudges me. "I've pulled!"   An elderly gent smiles and winks at her. She smiles and toasts him.  It is harmless fun. And great fun it is too.  Soon we are lucky enough to hear a song we know on the squeeze box. Along with the crowd we roar out "Eins Zwei Zuffa". This is more commonly sung in the Hobraühaus in Munich and here the words are adapted to be local, but we know the tune and sort of know the words, so we sing.  It is so German, so Franconian and just a sheer pleasure to be a small part of it. We are the only two there that aren't local, yet we feel welcome. And happy.  My stein is placed on its side more than once. This beer slips down easily.

All too soon though the musical duo cease their merry din.  The set and indeed the act is over. I come across them at the back, when going for a pee. Now off duty, but still with their instruments strung across their chests as if ready to swing back into action, they are knocking back the same beer as everyone else, young or old, male or female. That's just how it is. We look on this interlude as a cue to depart, though we don't go far. Almost next door is Brauerei Hebendanz where there is a much more sedate crowd, but again, no obvious seats. We are once more taken in hand by the Boss. He finds us a corner and brings us, unbidden, two beers.  We sup contentedly and are nodded to cheerily by our table companions.

Social inclusion. That's the secret to it all. Even when you aren't obviously part of it, you are. 

Forchheim is on the main Nuremburg - Bamberg rail line. It is about 20 odd minutes from Bamberg and half an hour from Nuremberg.

We also chalked up the only brewery I hadn't visited before as it has always been closed, Brauerei Eichhorn, but that was early doors and it was almost empty.

Bavarian Beer Prices Stable

As the good weather returns and the beer gardens open again, public broadcaster Bayerische Rundfunk reports that most Bavarian drinkers can enjoy a beer at last year's prices. The exception is Munich where prices have gone up by around 20 cents a litre. The somewhat bizarre explanation is the Munich attracts more tourists who steal more beer glasses. It seems for example, that 30,000 mugs a year are stolen from the Chinese Turm Beer Garden alone.

Beer price inflation in Germany, like here, runs way ahead of "normal" inflation which since the 1950's has run at around 300% while beer prices have increased by 1500%. Seems to be an easy profit maker for both retailer and government no matter the country!

Get away from Munich though, where you will pay €6.90 a litre this coming season, prices are much more reasonable. According to checks conducted by the radio station, prices per litre have changed little since last year, when they were on average €4.40 in Bamberg, €5.20 in Passau, €5.60 in Augsburg, €5.80 in Regensburg, and €5.90 in Nuremberg and Würzburg. The most affordable Maß was found in the Upper Franconia region, in the town of Hallerndorf, for just €3.50.

So there you have it. Not only does Franconia have the best beer in Germany, it is cheapest too. Another good reason to go if you haven't been or indeed, if you have.

Sing Something Simple

In Hirschaid, a dead and alive little town near Forchheim in Franconia is Brauerei Kraus. It has a good reputation and a decent sized beer garden. We located it easily enough and walked in past the pub itself and into the pleasant, tree shaded beer garden which doubled as the brewery yard. The brewery, a traditional tower affair, looked a good size.

Ordering from the hatch, I had an excellent kellerbier, while E started off on the pils which she liked. The place was busy at two in the afternoon with a good mixture of types. Suddenly singing started. From one corner, a group of old men, conducted by another old man, burst into song. These were traditional folk songs and were sung with obvious enjoyment, while being warmly appreciated by the audience. We all clapped at the break, while the old guys refreshed themselves with bier and schnapps. The final piece was recognisable as our National Anthem though obviously with different words. This confused some US Army civilians who clearly thought it was an American tune. It confused us for a moment too.

We supped our beers and enjoyed the simple pleasures of beer and bonhomie and joined in the well deserved round of applause when it all finished. Germany is full of surprises.

Good Greif

Our trip to four brewery Forchheim was uneventful despite the rail replacement bus that took us there. As the S Bahn line was being extended, no trains were running, but the efficient buses were fine, though DB seemed to have decided to oversee the operation with their dumbest employees, particularly at the Forchheim end.

Forchheim is a quite lovely town, with ancient buildings everywhere and a poignant Jewish memorial reminding us of darker times. A little river runs through it and we enjoyed the stroll round until, by happenstance, we arrived at Sattlertorstrasse where it seems there are two brewpubs. Actually, I'd been looking forward to this. We've been selling Neder beers at the GBBF for years and here was a chance to try them in situ. Next door was Brauerei Hebendanz which Ronbo mentions fondly and accurately here.

We started at Hebendanz, though noting it is now a smoking pub, E sat outside on the self service tables, while I braved the smoky interior. My first impression was that everyone had at least two cigarettes going at once, some maybe three. There is a corridor and one room and as Ron remarks, it is simply full of oddballs. I looked though the gloom, seeking out Ron's waxy faced pal, but he didn't seem to be there. No worry, there was plenty Adams Family escapees to be going on with. The kellerbier was tasty and cheap. I had two before we nipped along to Neder where no smoking is allowed and contrastingly, everything seemed normal. The kellerbier was fine, but not as good as that of Hebendanz. E didn't like it, so asked me to fetch her a bottle of pils. This is well within my German capabilities. A bottle was duly produced and I was then asked a perplexing question. It perplexed me, as I didn't understand a word of it. My blank look brought a reply in German. "Would I like a glass?" Now this part of Franconia has some impenetrable dialects - just try reading some of the handwritten notices - but this was it in action.

Having established that Greifbrau's pub along the street was closed for good and that Eichhorn was on a ruhetag (rest day) we walked up to the Josef Greif Brauerei where Ron mentions you can get a beer. You can. In an odd little garden, sandwiched beween the keg and bottling plants, there is a few tables and a hatch dispensing pils and kellerbier. Both were excellent and we watched the various beery goings on at the brewery happily enough, before a meal and some more beer in town.

Forchheim really is a great little town and recommended very highly, just watch out for the denizens of Hebendanz.

On our return to Bamberg I settled the conflicting information from the two DBahn eejits posted there about which of two buses left first, by simply asking in German "Is this first? Yes or no?" That sorted it!

Top Beer of the Trip

Sitting here in grey Manchester, after pretty good weather in Bamberg, I recall saying to E, "this reminds you that ordinary people elsewhere in the world actually get a real summer." By that I meant one with sunshine and high temperatures, an outdoor lifestyle and not just slightly warmer rain.



On one such lovely day we traipsed off on a rail replacement bus to Forchheim, followed by a local bus out to a four keller set up at Kreuzberg, where a large, steep hill has one keller (beer garden) at the bottom and three more up a fairly steep track, a kilometre or so up an equally big steep hill. More of these later, but at the first Brauerei Roppelt of Stieberlimbach, having short cutted through the brewery yard with our mate Erlangernick, our guide, I encountered the best beer of the holiday, Roppelt Keller Bier. Served in a traditional steinkrug, it was off pale, hoppy and delicious. Proper lager, the likes of which you will most likely only encounter in Franconia. We had plenty other decent keller beers, but this was truly a stand out. I can see why Nick makes the 26k cycle ride there more or less every Friday. I would too, but like Nick, I'd take the train back from Forchheim. You'd be too full of good beer (and pork) to cycle back.