A Bitter Lesson in Birmingham

While many members of the Campaign for Real Ale were sceptical about moving the Great British Beer Festival (GBBF) from its London home to the NEC in Birmingham, it is doubtful if many of us were prepared for how badly it would turn out.  A whopping £320,000 loss was surely not in anyone's mind, and must have exceeded by far the worst case scenario presented in the business case for it.

As someone who has worked at countless Great British Beer Festivals and organised or jointly organised the National Winter Ales Festival and latterly for a number of years, the Manchester Beer and Cider Festival - a large event in a very beery city - the thing that haunts you most is "Will anyone turn up and if they do, will they come in enough numbers to at least break even?"  You spend countless hours beforehand trying to size and scale the event to appeal to as many visitors as possible, and to offer them an attractive event that will make that, not only possible, but likely enough to write it all down in a proper business case and then convince the Campaign's Festival Scrutineers that it can be done.  In our case, and I'm sure at the NEC, organisers are getting hourly door counts to see how things are going. Firstly you need to pay the rent and if numbers look good, it is likely that the other main expense - beer - will take care of itself.  The relief when you see the numbers adding up is palpable.

I can only imagine the GBBF organiser's horror as door numbers were absorbed and the realisation that it wasn't going to be a success, and actually reaching the dreadful conclusion that the main question to consider was "How bad is it going to be?"  It is likely that realisation at the organising end of things, was an early one and that in the meantime, the show must go on. That must have been hard and I truly feel for them.

The Campaign, to its credit, did not try and hide the true horror of the loss and while it is easy to be wise after the event, the NEC did not appeal to many old hands for many fairly obvious reasons. It wasn't in a big city centre. The area wasn't that attractive and transport links would likely mean that casual visitors were unlikely and there would be no or little after work crew dropping in.  Above all, the NEC isn't an attractive building like Olympia, or indeed Manchester Central.  However, a business case must have been made, and it is hoped that this was on merit as it is tempting to some to think that holding this flagship event after cancellation the year before, was a now or never decision.  

So, what next for CAMRA?  The GBBF in its two forms (The winter event which was the National Winter Ales is now GBBF Winter) will now not take place, and likely will never take place again.  There will be a huge tightening of belts.  Writing to members Ash Corbett-Collins the National Chairman wrote:

• The Great British Beer Festival and its Winter counterpart did not attract enough visitors to cover the cost of holding them, resulting in a substantial loss.
• Our membership figures – like many other organisations – are simply not growing. The hard truth is we are unlikely to return to pre-2020 levels.
• Our festivals are getting more expensive to hold, with fewer affordable venues.
• The cost of running a membership organisation and business is also increasing. 

Ash finished as follows:

"While I hoped I would never need to send this message, my number one priority is seeing our Campaign survive and thrive. Our 50 plus year history must be protected and I am determined to see CAMRA continue for the next 50 years.

Doing nothing is not an option. If we do not act now, the stark reality is we will not exist in the future." 

CAMRA though, is not alone in this existential threat. All voluntary organisations are suffering the same effect. Younger people have other priorities nowadays. Either way, it does suggest that big CAMRA beer festivals will slowly die out as members get too decrepit for the physical effort. Demographics do tell the story here, and actually as folks get older, maybe targeting retirees than hopefully pursuing younger members is a better way of doing things, but this would inevitably change what we do - and in fact this is happening already.  Some festivals have been cancelled as there just aren't enough able volunteers

As I wrote on Seeing the Lizard's blog, Birmingham was CAMRA's Ardennes Offensive* - a last tilt and throw of the dice for GBBF, and while not as devastating, it will hasten an inevitable retreat. Though a collapse of the Campaign is unlikely - assuming it can overcome the loss - it will likely presage an emphasis on local campaigning and indeed, socialising, which is still an attractive part of the Campaign. (The national picture isn't always a main concern locally anyway.)  While us old gits are still alive we'll carry on and there will still be a bit of national lobbying while super complainant status is still with us. After that? Who knows, but it is hardly a bright picture overall.

In the meantime, as long as real ale - cask conditioned beer exists - there is a case to promote and protect it.  That presently, at least, means CAMRA, but the reputational damage is immense and the shock to the finances a heavy blow. I support Ash in steadying the ship, but he is correct to highlight the writing on the wall. 

 * The German's final large scale attack to ward off the inevitable defeat in the West during World War 2.

I also know that the cost of hiring venues, large and small is getting beyond CAMRA's means in many cases. Beer festivals are more difficult than ever, generally.

 

Boddies Going Down a Storm

Since my last post on the subject, I have been reading on social media that the new JW Lees version of Boddies is meeting with much approval from the cask drinking public and, importantly, from publicans.

It is of course still largely in its Manchester homeland, and probably not straying too far even in the North West, but it will I’m sure in time.  I note that such fine establishments such as the Fox and Pine in Oldham - CAMRA's Greater Manchester Pub of the Year say it is flying out and in Stockport, the newly re-opened Crown run by the same team as the award-winning Petersgate Tap, is shifting the stuff at a rate of knots, selling their three casks in 24 hours.  Of course, at the moment there is a large novelty factor at play, but speaking to folks in my local Lees pubs, who have been quizzing me about it, it is clear that it has definitely piqued interest locally, not least of all from the Mayor of Greater Manchester, Andy Burnham and the Japanese Ambassador Hiroshi Suzuki. 

Boddingtons
Cream of Manchester
“By’eck, it’s gorgeous”!!! pic.twitter.com/ozBFF0cGd9

— Hiroshi Suzuki (@AmbJapanUK) September 5, 2025

The reputation of the beer will be enhanced to travellers, too, as it is being sold by the Piccadilly Tap and the Victoria Tap, at the city's main railway stations. Maybe passengers, nipping in for a pint will spread the word?  

There has been a bit of  minor grumbling about whether the beer is true to the original, but of course, the question to pose when that arises, is "Which original version?" as it is clear that Boddingtons Bitter changed many times over the years, though nobody can say with any certainty when the halcyon version was, or when it changed from that.  Beer memories are fickle and subjective, so it is better surely to take this view as expounded by Boak and Bailey, which I regard as entirely sensible.

"A perfect historical recreation might work as a one-off special, which people would seek out once, as a novelty. But this needs to be a beer that will sell in 2025. That it reminds people of how it felt to drink the original* is good news in that regard. (*As someone pointed out in that social media discussion, there is no ‘original’. In reality, the beer changed and evolved over the course of decades.")

I will be keeping my eye on it from my perspective as CAMRA's JW Lees Brewery Liaison Officer of course - as well as from my own interest - and will report back from time to time.  In the meantime, it has given a bit of a buzz to the cask ale market and that, for sure, is a good thing.

I am told that Boddies is also available in JW Lees Rain Bar, but this isn't verified and there are other places in the city too, so plenty of chances to try it should you be so inclined.

Munich Observations Part Two

You’ve already had the lowdown on some of the beers we enjoyed in Munich, but man – and indeed woman – does not live by Helles alone (though in Munich you certainly could have a decent attempt). As I mentioned before, E took quite a shine to Augustiner Pils. Alas her attempts to sample a few different pils along the way were thwarted. Sadly, you can’t find Pils on draught anywhere, and for reasons best known only to themselves, Spaten insist on offering the dreadful Beck’s as their bottled pils in their most prestigious outlets. It appears Spaten Pils, which I recall was a lovely beer, is no longer brewed. A real shame.  In fact, Spaten it seems, only brew Helles in both normal and alcohol-free forms and, of course, an Oktoberfest. 

It gets worse. The whole shooting match of Spaten-Franziskaner-Löwenbräu-Gruppe is owned by AB InBev, who presumably have streamlined the brands available, though under the Franziskaner brand you'll also find weissbier and a kellerbier.  Like Spaten, the rather delightful Löwenbräu  Pils has been dropped. It is a pretty grim picture as the odd hoppy pils provided an alternative to Helles, which in its Munich iteration, can be a little sweet, and dare I say, bland? (The locals call it “süffig”, meaning “easy to drink”. And, in fairness, it is.

Less common, but sitting just above pils in strength, you'll find Augustiner Edelstoff, a delicious export style or "spezial" beer. Tegernsee also produce one, though this is harder to find. Expect around 5.6%. 

So what other beers can you find in Munich? Well, aside from helles, the most common is weizen – wheat beer – also known as hefe-weizen or weissbier. It’s a hugely popular summer refresher, and unlike pils, every major Munich brewery makes one.  Such is its popularity that wheat beer is almost always available on draught, not just in the big beer gardens but in most pubs and bars around the city. Bottled versions are everywhere too, though in busier places you’ll usually be served beer from the tap, unless you specifically ask for a bottle. The standard pour is half a litre, and I enjoyed quite a few of them in my week in Munich.

The differences between the big Munich brands are subtle, with one notable exception: Schneider. They’re specialists in wheat beer and produce a broad range of excellent and distinctive brews. Interestingly, they haven’t brewed in Munich since 1943, when in a losing encounter with the Royal Air Force, their brewery was destroyed. These days, production continues in Kelheim, where the wheat beer tradition is still going strong. More of this in Part 3.

 Dunkel bier varies between light and dark brown and is malt accented. It seems a minority taste these days, though I do recommend the Hofbräu version which is fuller bodied, darker and tastier than most. You'll also find the noted strong beers in bottle in most of the bigger places - and at very reasonable prices too. But beware, these are usually over 8% abv and should be sipped cautiously, not necked.  Well known examples are Paulaner Salvator, Augustiner Maximator, Hacker-Pschorr Animator, Hofbräu Maibock and Augustiner Heller Bock, sometimes depending on time of year. If you really want to go for it, March sees a number of "Starkbierfests" where you can certainly fill your boots..

Finally, it is worth mentioning that many of the breweries sell beer from a wooden cask, but you have to seek it out. This is sold without extraneous CO2, in wooden barrels filled from the conditioning tank in the brewery. Look out for signs saying "vom Holzfass" or sometimes "bier vom Bayrische Anstich".  Often this is only at a particular time or day, but see below.

Augustiner, Hacker-Pschorr,  Ayinger and even Paulaner offer beer from wooden barrels here and there, but the only place you'll find Edelstoff sold in this manner is the Augustiner Keller, more of which in part 3 where I recommend a few decent places to drink the stuff. 

It would be remiss not to mention Oktoberfest beers, made available from late August until they all consumed after Oktoberfest ends. I just missed out this time, but here at least you can usually buy them in the UK from specialist online suppliers to try for yourself. This is the optimum time to do so.

By 'eck. It's Back!

A veritable glitterati of CAMRA North West worthies, plus the Morning Advertiser were gathered by invitation in JW Lees Brewery Cottage yesterday to learn about JW Lees newly brewed version of Boddingtons Cask Bitter and, importantly, to taste the product.

William Lees-Jones, the Managing Director, led proceedings with a canter through the history of the brand and how AB InBev, trading as Budweiser UK came to the agreement for Lees to revive the cask version of the brand which has been in abeyance for fourteen years, since it was last brewed for what was then InBev by fellow Manchester brewers Hydes.  (Boddingtons at 3.4% is still brewed for keg and can at Salmesbury).It was actually interesting to learn that historically, despite its national distribution, 46% of Boddingtons production was sold in or around its North West homeland.  It was also to me, at least, quite astonishing to learn that at its peak well over 300,000 barrels were produced.  

The new beer will be pitched between premium and superpremium segment of the market following market research, with the byline "Cream of Manchester back on cask." It was a humorous and interesting talk before William handed over to the Brewing Director Michael Lees-Jones, who would get down to the nitty-gritty of the product. In the background, the brewing team were busily filling pints in new branded glasses while Michael described the beer as the assembled crowd eyed them thirstily.The beer is brewed with JW Lees house yeast, as the risk of cross contamination was considered too large to use a Boddington derived yeast. Originally Boddingtons was hopped with Fuggles, Goldings and Whitbread Goldings Variety, but the new beer is hopped with Goldings and Jester to give the flavour profile that is now required. This will impart a touch of grapefruit bitterness.  The beer has 15.5 colour units and 29 European Bitterness Units. The original gravity is 1038, with an abv of 4%.

Pints were then handed out as Michael talked us through the taste. Foremost, this is a decently bitter beer, with the trademark creamy head and yes, the classic Boddingtons dry finish is there. This is a very good beer indeed, and many of the veteran CAMRA crew spoke approvingly of how close it was to their memory of the original.  A question and answer session followed with more pints of course, and an excellent spread of food appeared while we all mingled and discussed.

So, where can you get this beer? Firstly, it won't be sold in any Lees pubs with the exception of Founders Hall, Lees showcase pub in Manchester City Centre.  Lees's free trade reps are busily signing up North West outlets to the cause and eventually, it will go out to carefully selected distributors throughout the nation.  JW Lees also intends to have us all back in a few months to tell us how it is going. In the meantime, there will be a What's App group for feedback.

So, there you have it. Boddies is back and it is very good. Seek it out and see what you think. 

This is a very quick post as I have to go out, but I thought it worthwhile to give the basic gen about this iconic beer.  Photo of William and Michel Lees-Jones and the beer and glass.

On the way out we also were given a gift box with a glass, a  bucket hat and a very yellow T shirt. Fab or what?

Munich Observations Part One

Back from a few days celebrating my birthday in Munich, I couldn’t resist jotting down a few thoughts about my favourite city — one of Europe’s great beer capitals, most at least, would say  — and how it’s changed since I was last there five years ago.

First off, we struck gold with the weather. From the moment we landed until the moment we left, the sun shone gloriously. That felt like a jackpot, especially given how grim the weeks beforehand had been, as we'd noted from various weather sites before we left. As an aside, I’ve been in Munich when the Alps pull in the clouds and leave you with nothing but drizzle and grey skies that seem to sit there forever. Not this time. This time it was beer garden weather, pure and simple. What we came for.

So, what’s different since my last visit? The biggest surprise: cash is no longer king. Germany has always been the land where a pocket full of notes and coins was essential. But now? You can get by almost entirely on cards. Even Munich’s MVV transport network is on board. No more trying to work out which way to insert the euro notes.  Granted, their ticket machines remain as clunky and unintuitive as ever though the newer ones aren’t quite so bad, but with patience and pressing the English translation, you'll muddle through. Not at all cheap though since they abolished the Partner Tagescarte

In pubs and restaurants, cash is still happily accepted, but plastic works just as well. The interesting development is tipping. Traditionally not much of a thing in Germany, but now you’ll often be asked — politely, even a little awkwardly — if you’d like to add one. Five to ten percent seems to be the going rate. It’s not quite expected yet, but you can sense the shift. That gentle, apologetic ask will no doubt harden into a norm before long and as for five percent, well, that will go too, but you can always decline. Or pay more.

And what about prices? They’re a mixed bag. The good news is that Augustiner, still widely considered the city’s best beer, remains among the most reasonably priced. Quality and value is always a winning combination to enhance any drinking experience. Expect to pay under €5 for Augustiner, but more in most other places. 

I don't think anyone would disagree that the most commonly purchased beer in Munich is Helles, so let's go through the card. Here we are, brewery by brewery, in order of the quality of the Helles beers that I drank:

In reverse order - that is worse first:

Hacker Pschorr: Dull, sweetish with some good malt characteristics. The head disappears without a trace, and the beer itself is pretty underwhelming, leaving you with the feeling that something is missing. 

Spaten:  A very appealing light bronze colour and appearance, but this beer has no zing.  Dryish, thin, and again head retention stinks. No real hop presence. Drink it quickly for best results.

Paulaner: Middle of the bunch. Less sweet than HP, its stable mate, but despite an appealing biscuity malt nose, it is rather thin and underwhelming.

Loewenbrau: Decent beer with a good mouthfeel, a fresh flavour and a slight hop finish.  Again, drink it quickly to get the most enjoyment. 

Hofbrauhaus: A step up in quality. Good biscuity malt, some peppery noble hops just about say hello. Better head retention and overall gives an impression of a well-made beer. 

Schneider: Very decent helles, which ticks all the boxes. Malty and slightly sweet with a touch of peppery hops. An easy-going quaffer with some character.

Ayinger: Clean, golden beer with a more steely backbone and a fuller body. Usual biscuit / bready notes to a clean, slightly herbal hop finish.

Tegernsee: Dry, clean and crisp with some bready malt. Gentle hop finish. Satisfying.

Augustiner; Fresh straw coloured beer, some hop nose and presence, good body with fresh malt notes and floral hops. Balance is much better here in this refreshing beer. One isn't enough.

Of course this is just my opinion and nearly all make a reviving drink on a hot day. Head retention was poor in most and all would benefit -  at least in eye appeal - from etched glassware, but again, that's just opinion. I like a head on my beer.

I would say that Augustiner was the winner by quite a distance. There is just something about the beer that sets it apart. 

Next I'll discuss pubs, beer gardens and weizenbier.

Oh and the best beer by a considerable distance was Augustiner Pils, which E drank when she could. Bottled only and a cut above Helles in my opinion.  An honourable mention goes to Augustiner Edelstoff.

 

 

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A Very Mixed Bag

While in Manchester the worst and more noisy aspects of bathroom replacement were taking place, we fled to London to get some peace and quiet and, importantly, to be able to have a shower.  The re-instating of our bathroom is still taking place, alas with no shower yet, but reassuringly, the connections are there, so it is a matter of time. In the meantime, I have had to resort to washing in the sink again. I say again, because my sister reminded me of our early days at our granny's in Castle Douglas, where that was the daily way of doing things until, once a week, we bathed in a zinc bath in the outhouse.  I must say, washing in such a way today is more vexatious than it seemed then.

It is a while since I have spent a week in London and of course, despite the reason and a determination to act as normally as possible, we did tend to treat it as a holiday.  And why not?   

Given that we had struck lucky with the weather, we determined to get out and about, but we started in the usual way with a pint or two in the Aldgate Tap, having previously had a quick pint in its sister, the Euston Tap. Now both sell cask beer, but also tend to have a good choice of German beer, so, given the temperature of around 30C, that's what we plumped for in both places. The choice was good with at least three beers in each and the standard Bitburger which actually, for a mass-produced beer, is both dry and bitter.

The next day, in a nod to our good intentions, we went shopping to Waitrose - it is nearest - and to be fair, we mainly ate in for a change.  Later that day, I had the pleasure of meeting, by arrangement, with fellow beer writer Laura Hadland. We met in a well thought of pub, the Old Fountain at Old Street which sells a range of cask beers, but my pint of Five Points Gold wasn't up to much and Laura's Oakham was very much end of cask.  Fortunately, as often is the case, the company and conversation more than made up for it.  Then it was a quick bus trip for me to another favourite, the Sutton Arms where the cask was just fine, though the choice didn't appeal, so I switched to Ayinger German lager when E arrived to join me. 

On Wednesday afternoon, we took a very hot number 15 bus to a new pub. Another Bloomsbury Leisure pub, this time on the Strand and a big bugger too, featuring Czech Budvar- and cask too, though I didn't try it. Stranded is aiming to sell beer the Czech way - in oversized glasses with a big head. The measures are two thirds, and it was fun to watch the attempts to pour correctly and then the services of a Czech beer and bar expert - who clipped the assorted staff behind the ear as she showed them how it was done.  Shame she poured the excess beer away, though Jon Dalton, the owner and an old acquaintance of mine, was kind enough to give us a couple on the house. We wish him well and certainly go there. The dark is particularly recommended and while Jon has high hopes that the Czech pours will take off, he remarked that it was a bit of a punt as the presentation is unfamiliar to most Brits.

Thursday saw us in Brighton, where I had not been before. Suffice to say, a very hot day, so no cask beer was supped, but I thoroughly recommend the Hole in the Wall - thanks Retired Martin - and of course the Evening Star. Though we didn't spend too much time in the pub given the glorious sunshine, we will certainly go again, and the railway station is a thing of beauty which entirely gobsmacked me.  More pubs to try for sure too.

On Friday, another new pub, the Hand and Marigold in Bermondsey.  Thanks for the tip, Will Hawkes.  This is a fab place with top-notch cask beer and is well worth a visit. It is air-conditioned too and the welcome was genuinely warm.   Then we bumped into an old BSF colleague, Caroline who will manage the Dutch and Belgian Bar at GBBF this year. She persuaded us to go to Dutch Taproom - It ain't much, if it ain't Dutch -  - where the beers were strong and pricey, but excellent. 

On Saturday we went out to Jack Duignan's new gaff, the King's Arms in Bethnall Green. No issues with beer quality there, and the Charrington IPA went down well. Another positive tick for London cask. We took the long route via the Peacock, another Will Hawkes recommendation. We were the only customers for a few minutes in this splendidly renovated pub in a housing estate. Very pubby, and the guy in charge was great as he explained he had very few beers on due to the cellar dispense equipment  suffering a losing encounter with an untethered gas bottle the previous night. I didn't fancy the cask choices of Five Points Pale and Landlord, but the Guinness on an 80/20 mixture was rather good as a substitute. We will be back.

Sunday, after watching Tweedy Pubs - I'm a big fan - we nipped across Tower Bridge to Bermondsey again, but alas, our target, the Victoria, while scheduled to be open was firmly closed with no way of telling why. A great pity this, as just look at it. A beauty. We hopped back to Borough High Street for another Will Hawkes recommendation, the Blue Maid, but beforehand stopping off at another old haunt, the King's Arms. Alas, my pint of Harvey's Best was north of 17C in temperature - bad old London showing up like Banquo's ghost at last. No excuse here as a fair bit of cask was somehow still being sold, and in winter, I have had pretty good pints here in what is a decent pub.  Get the cooling mended for goodness’ sake and stop doing this.

Our final pub was the Blue Maid. This is a fantastic looking place. Someone has spent serious money here and it shows. Two cask beers on offer, but I have decided that I actually dislike Five Points Best and didn't want a 3.4% Burning Sky offering. What a warm welcome too from the Ozzy barman - manager maybe - but talk about eye watering prices? 2.8% beers for north of £7.50? Me neither. But £5 a pint for cask? Well done, and the taste I had was fine, though I opted for London Black as my last pint of the trip.  E enjoyed a very expensive Ginger Beer and the pleasure it gave her was worth the price, so maybe they are on to something after all.

To sum up.   The new pubs were tremendous, the beer everywhere was expensive, so much so, that I was warned about £8 plus pints more than once. Having said that, in the main those who take cask beer seriously, price it to go - as is wise with any perishable product - and those that don't - just avoid the buggers, though it may cost you a few quid to compile your black list. They do cask beer and their customers no favours in selling it at 17C or higher degrees at top dollar. 

It was great to bump into my beer judging pal, Paul Davies at  Anspach and Hobday. He is a really nice person, and we had a good catch up. Having already met Caroline Debenham by accident, it just shows how small and connected the beer world is.

Finally, a big shout-out to Heritage Brewing of Burton on Trent. Both their Masseys and Charrington IPA were excellent. 

 

I Was Right Then

Did you know that Cask Marque has an area on their website where you can report beer quality problems directly to them? Well, it has. To the point, it is called "Bad Beer Reporting Tool". That's what you need - something that tells it as it is.

I once used it a while ago and can't exactly remember when, where or why, but I was moved to do so again after a recent experience in London, which, as part of a piece about a recent Belgian Trip, I mentioned here.  To recap, I paid £7 for an extremely lacklustre pint of Landlord in the Cask Marque listed Hoop and Grapes in Aldgate, which is a Nicolson's pub.

Now I have had many a pint in Nicolson's pubs and while they aren't always brilliant, they are usually dependable, though often a bit unadventurous. In fact, I praised them here, for great pints in the Lord Aberconwy adjacent to Liverpool Street Station and I don't think that is untypical.  Of course, it is a truism that the pub is only as good as the boss that runs it and sets the standards, a fact that is rather unwisely overlooked.  Check out the person in charge if you can, and watch how they operate to get a feel for the pub. If the boss is slovenly, it is likely that the pubs will be the same. The best managers are always keeping a darting sideways eye on things, even when doing something else.

But I digress. What of my complaint about the Hoop and Grapes? In a reply to me, Cask Marque advised me that they failed their recent Cask Marque inspection visit  - hopefully after my complaint - and they will be inspected again, after which they will let me know the outcome. 

Well, I at least am not at all surprised to learn that, but it is good to know. It clearly wasn't just a duff pint on the night, but a general failure which presumably resulted in countless substandard pints.

So, it is worth a complaint to Cask Marque, particularly if you feel the problem is likely systemic rather than a one-off?   You can easily look up a pub's inclusion or otherwise on the internet. They sign up to all this, so you aren't grassing them up, rather, you are holding them to their side of the bargain. 

And what can be fairer than that? After all, it is your money and experience that is immediately at stake, and in the wider sense, the reputation of cask ale.

Incidentally, Nicolson's were included in my original and subsequent complaints on X. Either they chose to ignore it - surely they have meedja persons employed for such things? - or they didn't notice it, which is poor

Next, they should actually put prices on their beer, so you can decide or not whether to pay the ransom for a pint in the quality lottery.  Given price inflation, that is something all pubs need to do. Where else do you buy something without knowing the price first?

Karmeliet on the Kust

You know how, when you venture into foreign parts, sometimes you just get stuck on a particular beer? Well - that. 

This little adventure was a short three-day hop over to Belgium. Ostend, specifically. The plan? Ride the legendary Kusttram—basically a scenic tram that glides up and down the Belgian coast from De Panne near France to Knokke-Heist near the Dutch border. It's supposedly one of the longest tram routes in the world, and it sounded like just the kind of gentle, beer-accompanied exploring we needed.

Our journey began in different ways. The other two lads came to London on Tuesday for our Eurostar 13.01 departure, while I came down the night before to check our flat was still in one piece. This allowed me to have a lie in and have the chance to be fleeced of seven of your British pounds for a substandard pint of Landlord - but that's another story.  It also allowed me to have a full English breakfast and a couple of leisurely pints in the Betjeman Arms in St Pancras Station. As an aside, it might be pricey, but what a grand place that is inside and a good spot for people watching outside. Worth it as a treat, for sure.  

Eurostar is fab, but the check in area is far too small, but we had decent seats on the train and soon were belting through France at an agreeable number of kilometres per hour. On time and comfortable. Excellent. On arrival in Brussels, we did the only sensible thing: found a bar, ordered beers, and toasted our escape. Sunshine, Hoegaarden in a comically large glass, and that undefinable hum and buzz of a city not our own. We just enjoyed it and watched the goings on, going on. Eventually, we grabbed our (very senior-discounted) train tickets—just €8.50 to any station in Belgium!—and made our way to Ostend. Our accommodation was on the 7th floor, with views of the casino and, somewhere beyond, the North Sea. But before we even found the place, there were the inevitable wrong turns and a pit stop for more beers

It was there, in the friendly and very pubby De Klokke - just round the corner from our abode as it turned out - we encountered what proved to be a bit of a nemesis - for two of the company at least - Tripel Karmeliet. Now, this Abbey beer is rather easy to drink. Brewed with three grains - wheat, barley and oats, it is as smooth, presumably from the oats, as the smoothest of smooth things, but hides its 8.3% brilliantly.  But it has a deadly kick for those that choose to sup it with a degree of recklessness. Fortunately, it wasn't entirely to my taste and I settled when in De Klokke - yes we went more than once - for a boys beer - Leffe Blonde at a mere 6.6%.  Full of common sense, me.  

We only had a couple, then found where we were staying, dumped the bags and went straight out. It turned out there was a decent seam of pubs nearby, so we tried a few, drinking various Tripels, until somewhat predictably, we ended up in a kebab house at midnight, necking Duvel from the bottle.  We, also predictably, slept like babies and were up in decent shape for the main event: the Kusttram.

It would be pretty boring to relate all our activities, but we did try a variety of beers and places. If your Belgian drinking has been mainly in big cities such as Antwerp, Brussels and Ghent, I observed it was rather different on the North Sea coast. We were disappointed with Blankerberge, both as a town and as a place to drink. Graham and I had been there before, and we had fond memories of it. But we found ourselves in a town which bore no comparison to our recollection. At all. Everything seemed to have been modernised beyond recognition - shiny and sterile, not charming and cosy. We were armed with pub recommendations from our good friend Mr Protz, but couldn't find the first at all - we think it had closed - and the second, the Terminus, by the main tram stop, was just generic and nondescript. So modern it looked, that we asked if it was new, but were advised it had been there for over a hundred years. Oh. Really? Like the UK, it seemed things had changed in the many years since our last visit, but not for the better.

We liked De Haan though. A charming and traditional looking small town, where we watched some pretty fast cycling - something the Belgians take very seriously, with closed roads, marshalls, police, and crowds. We slaked our thirst in interesting Bar Roger, which sported plenty of breweriana, and a decent beer list. Gueuze Boon for me and Tripels for the lads. A couple more in a modern place where more Karmeliet was consumed, and back to Ostend, and our local area, with lots of Karmeliet for my companions, and a variety, mostly Leffe Blond, for me. The night was topped off by another kebab at a different place at silly o'clock, of which only one of us had any recollection at all. As I'm writing about it -  me  - of course. Mr Sensible.

On the next day, we fared rather better heading south towards France, where the tramline ends.  Interesting views of miles of sandy beaches, and a plethora of what seemed to be holiday lets, as one small town rolled into another. At least on this coast, architectural merit didn't seem to be even on the planner's distant thoughts. On the way, we chatted to an old Belgian man, wondering if, as we neared the French border, would the language change from Dutch to French. He assured us, proudly, it would not.  Alighting in De Panne, in our first pub, oddly named as Itz a Pub, we were greeted with a cheery "Bonjour" from the owner and all we heard everywhere after that was French, which helped us communicate. So much for Flemish pride.

The town itself was nothing great to speak of, but we could imagine how busy it would be in the summer, as indeed we could see elsewhere. At the time of our visit, not much was open, but you could see preparations being made everywhere. However, as in Ostend, pubs/bars were all busy considering it was midweek and we had great conversations in both La Grand Place where we went by mistake and in the one right next door, Café des Bains, where we had intended to go. Table service was the norm in most places with beers, generally priced around €4.50 - €5 or a fair bit more for exotics.  Not bad at all, really.  Each order was accompanied by a small snack such as nuts or crisps.

We approached the last evening with more caution, as we had to be up and out early to get back to Brussels. The Eurostar Terminal there is more comfortable than St Pancras, and we had an uneventful journey back, with my two jaded companions eschewing a last drink in Euston Station. Maybe they would have been tempted by Karmeliet? Or maybe not! 

Would I recommend Ostend and the Belgian Coast? Well, yes - the tram is fun - but I'd likely say go in summer when things are in full swing and a lot more lively. What about Tripel Karmeliet?  It is certainly a well-made beer, but a bit hefty for swigging, though I should probably ask my friends about that.

My £7 pint was in the Hoop and Grapes in Aldgate, a Nicolsons house. Really poor it was too. If you are going to serve £7 pints, make sure they are in the toppest of condition, or at least display the price clearly.

It was also good to see Hoegaarden widely available in the North Sea Coast area. It may be big brewery beer, but it is still a classic of the Belgian Witbier style, and too rare a beast in the UK these days.