Making an exhibition of oneself, in Brum

I enjoyed a rare day out on Wednesday, and it was rarer still, because it was work-related. I've been employed in my current part time position for around four and a half years, and apart from a four day spell helping to man the company trade stand in Cologne, at what was the world's largest dental show, I've been largely office-based. 

That changed the other day, when I took time out from my busy schedule, for a visit to a Health & Safety Event, at Birmingham's NEC. I'd received previous invites, of course, but when you are only on site for three days out of five, you have to manage your time very carefully, in order to squeeze everything in. I travelled up to Brum by train, taking advantage of an off-peak return, on Avanti West Coast, which offered a fair degree of flexibility. I know the company was paying, but it all comes off the bottom line, so there's no point in wasting money, just to get somewhere at the crack of dawn! I might do that, if I was going off on holiday, but I wouldn't do so for work, and certainly not for a trade show. 

A few observations before launching in to the main topic, and the first one was I enjoyed a fast and comfortable return train journey to Birmingham, along part of a route that I first travelled on back in my student days, when I was studying at Salford University. Avanti may have had teething issues when they first took over the West Coast franchise from Virgin, but from what I experienced the company has  certainly now got its act together.  The other observation is one I am not sure that I want to share with you, chiefly because it is an unwelcome reminder of growing old. 

The South Eastern service I took from Tonbridge was crowded, and whilst I could have got a seat, I wanted to speak to a work colleague first, concerning the successful resolution of a problem that had cropped up the day before. By the time our conversation finished, the train had called at Sevenoaks and taken on a further load of passengers. As I walked down the corridor, looking for an empty seat, a young lady obviously took pity on me, and offered me her seat. Thanking her for her kindness and consideration, I politely declined, not sure to be flattered or ashamed. Surely I didn't look that much in need of a seat? Later on, the same thing happened on the  Northern Line tube, between London Bridge and Euston. Talk about chivalry in reverse!

These events aside, the train dropped me at the NEC just after 11.30. I then made my way towards the exhibition halls, pausing to reflect that whilst the NEC does exactly what it says on the tin, it is just that - a series of interconnected concrete and metal sheds. What it isn't is somewhere to host a beer festival, and not just any old beer festival, but the UK's premier, national, beer-related event. I understand that CAMRA had to do something last year, when Olympia became unavailable, but a little thinking outside the box would have gone a long way. If you've ever been to Munich's world famous Oktoberfest, then you'll appreciate the effort that goes into staging the event, with the so-called "tents", in reality, large wooden temporary structures, that reappear every year. 

These rustic-looking buildings, designed to look like hybrids of a tent and a beer hall, are capable of accommodating large number of revellers, and supplying them with large quantities of beer, as well as food, in a matter that is efficient, cost-effective as well as atmospheric. Contrast the structures at Oktoberfest with the soulless NEC, or even Olympia and its predecessor, Earls Court, and you quickly realise that in over 40 years of running beer festivals, CAMRA has failed to learn there is more to such events than a massive list of beers that are often indistinguishable from one another. 

Rant over, because whilst totally wrong for a beer festival, and a flagship national one at that, the NEC delivered fully when it came to "The Health & Safety Event". There, under one roof, were stands exhibiting safety equipment, protective clothing (lots of boots and hi-vis jackets), systems, and virtually everything connected with keeping workers safe, whilst at work, whether that is indoors or outside. My main areas of interest were, systems and equipment to protect lone workers (not that we do much where people have to work alone, or out of hours). I also looked at provisions for first aid in the workplace, plus software for generating and managing risk assessments and method statements. I shan't bore you with any more details, but from my one point of view, as well as that of my employer, it was well worth my attending an event that certainly delivered on all fronts.

Being a warm day, it was nice to escape outside into the Piazza that is bounded by several of the inter-linked halls. It was where I took my genuine Cornish Pasty, courtesy of the Cornish Bakery chain. Their stand also delivered a fine cup of coffee as well, so a decent, and moderately-sized lunch, unlike last week's gargantuan offering at the Elephant's Head. 

After that, it was a short walk back to the station, where I purchased a return ticket to Birmingham New Street. The journey into central Brum was short too, lasting all of 10 minutes, but as the train approached New Street, I was somewhat surprised at the lack of progress in linking and converting, some of the mega-structures, associated with HS2, into a viable railway.

So now for the other main event, namely a few of Birmingham's finest hostelries. I'd done a spot of research, but as things turned out, it wasn't quite sufficient. I was aiming for a pub overlooking one of Birmingham's many canals, at a location known as Gas Street Basin. My route from New Street took me past the now sadly closed, Post Office Vaults, a pub which, as its name suggests is partly underground. It was the first pub, and initial meeting point, on the Proper Day Out in Birmingham, a stagger around some of Brum's finest alehouses. Looking back the event took place three years ago, a fact that both surprised and shocked me, but now, according to the notice on the door, the POV is no more, due to insolvency.

Onwards and upwards, I skirted the front of the imposing, Victorian Town Hall, now almost free of the scaffolding and netting that spoiled its appearance, back in April 2023. There was also a significant improvement in the weather, with sunny skies and warm temps, contrasting with the wind and rain of three years ago. 

What I hadn't banked on was the maze of roadworks and ensuing street closures, which made my way to the Waterside Tap something of nightmare. I'm not a fan of using my phone, for navigation purposes, preferring instead a good, old fashioned, paper map, but after a number of false starts, I felt I was getting somewhere, only to see, also online, that the pub wouldn't be open until 5pm! Checking at home, earlier today, that information appeared not to be true, which left  me wondering did I miss out on this attractive, canal-side alehouse, owned and run by Joule's Brewery.

Now I know that Stafford Paul isn't a massive fan of Joule's pubs - something to do with the amount of repro advertising, and artefacts adorning the walls, and other flat surfaces of the company's, but I was really looking forward to this one, and a pint or two of Joule's beers into the bargain. As for actually trying to find the pub, I decided to call it quits, especially as the website advising the late opening of this pub, was CAMRA's own. Reluctantly I retraced my steps, and headed back in the direction of the town hall, where I knew I'd find at least one, and probably more of the pubs on my provisional list. We're going to have to leave these pubs until next time, as I've waffled on, for rather longer than I originally intended, so, until then, then!

Striding ahead

Although I've known this for some time, it's only now that I can actually confess to the fact that I am a slow walker. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, or indeed shameful, and it certainly doesn't make me a lesser person, but it's not just on walks to pubs, with fellow beer enthusiasts, that I've noticed this effect, I’ve come across it in other areas of life too. I remember back in my early teens, going hiking with the youth group I belonged to, when I always seemed to be amongst the stragglers at the end of the walk, keeping company with those who got left behind. 

At the time, there seemed nothing more frustrating than seeing the lead group ahead in the distance, sitting down and enjoying a break whilst waiting for stragglers like me to catch up. You’d then find that as soon as you’d caught up, the advanced party would announce that it was time to get going, and off they’d go again. They'd had time to rest up for a while and recuperate, when you of course, hadn't.

This pattern of behaviour was most apparent on the youth-hostelling trip to the Isle of Wight, that I made, with the same group. It didn’t particularly bother me at the time, because there were others walking at the same pace as me and they weren’t concerned either. There was also something of a rebel about me back then, and not conforming was part and parcel of the scene I was involved with, at the time. As the week drew on, we got lost on more than one occasion, which was quite easy, as none of us had a map. We knew roughly where we were supposed to end up, and usually, once off the hills, there were buses we could catch. On at least one occasion, we managed to get a bus that either went directly to, or pretty close to our final destination for the day and arrived ahead of those who had stayed the course, on foot. 

The group leader, who was the local vicar (it was a church youth group), never seemed bothered about people being left behind, working on the basis of self-reliance, and “toughening us up”. Perhaps he should have done, since he was a man of the cloth, although in those days, I don't think any qualifications were necessary to be in charge of a youth group. Fortunately, none of us came to any harm, even though there were cliffs we could have fallen from, or rivers we might have drowned in, proving perhaps, that the vicar of Wye & Brook was right in his approach, even though it would be frowned upon today.

Back to the walking, as well as the present day. Many of my beery trips out, start from Tonbridge station, which is reached by a 20-minute downhill walk from Bailey Towers. I’ve lost count of the number of times I've set off only to be overtaken by people coming up from behind. Once they’ve passed me, they seem to disappear off into the distance, arriving at the station some considerable time before me. I appreciate most of them are probably seasoned commuters, who know exactly how long their journey is going to take, but their speed does seem a little disheartening at times.

They are obviously people whose natural walking pace is much faster than my own, and this includes individuals of both genders, many of whom seem to stride effortlessly by. Fortunately, I normally factor in sufficient time to not only reach the station, but to purchase my ticket as well. The other occasions when I’ve noticed this head down, fastest foot forwards approach has been during company business trips to Cologne, where we were exhibiting at the International Dental Show (IDS).  The mornings would begin with breakfast at the hotel, followed by a walk past the main station and then up across the river Rhine, via the Hohenzollern Bridge.

The latter is a similar structure to London’s Hungerford Bridge in so much that it carries pedestrians, alongside the train tracks, across a wide river. Once across the Rhine, we would make our way to the Köln Messe exhibition halls, where the show was taking place. There was normally half a dozen of us, and I was never part of the leading group, as there were colleagues who walked so fast as to give the impression of participating in a relay race. Nevertheless, we all arrived, each morning, at the company stand in time for the show’s opening. I've given up trying to emulate these people, although the joke is Mrs PBT’s thinks I'm a fast walker. I probably am, compared to her but certainly not when it comes to many, if not most, of my contemporaries.

Back to hiking, or rambling, if you prefer, and the last major long-distance footpath I walked, was the North Downs Way, which I completed in September 2022. After starting this LDP as part of a group, I ended up walking the majority of the trail on my own primarily because I felt that as my pace was slower, I was holding the group back. This is why I recommend walking solo, at your own pace, as it allows you to see what you want to see, take breaks for meals or drinks as needed, find a discreet place for personal needs, enjoy the solitude and experience the joy of being in nature alone.

There are exceptions to this, especially if you can find a walking partner whose pace matches your own. I was fortunate to experience this with my friend Eric, 15 years ago, when we completed the South Downs Way LDP, walking the trail in strict linear fashion, east to west (Eastbourne to Winchester). This was different, and perhaps more satisfying, than the piecemeal approach I adopted for the North Downs Way   

Our walking pace must have been equal, because I don’t recall ever feeling rushed, or feeling that our progress was too fast, or too slow. Perhaps it had something to do with stature, as we are both of similar height, and build, although now I am carrying quite a bit more weight. It might also be down to leg length, which must have a bearing on one’s stride. I don’t know my friend’s inside leg measurement, but at 29”, mine is on the short side, and Mrs PBT’s likes teasing me about it.

Having recently turned 70, I am pleased I can still enjoy outdoor activities and appreciate the great outdoors. I am aware though, that my stamina is not quite what it was 10 or even 5 years ago, but this is a natural part of aging, and despite this my aim is to continue walking as often as possible. Walking is an excellent form of exercise, allowing one to maintain fitness while enjoying the fresh air and the beauty of the English countryside.

Although this has been rather a brief post, and not particularly beer related, I would be interested to hearing about others' experiences when walking, whether individually or as part of a group. For much more detailed information about hiking, and walking in general, I strongly recommend checking out Rambling Man, the highly informative, and also entertaining website of seasoned walker, Andrew Bowden. Andrew has completed many of the long-distance footpaths in the British Isles, and as well as recounting his experiences of walking these trails, his blog is packed full of useful facts, figures and important information for those inspired to hike some of these paths themselves.

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A few more beery gems in Cologne

I was having a sort out earlier this morning, when I stumbled upon a pile of notes that I’d made in relation to the Rhineland city of Cologne. As you're no doubt aware, last month I published a quite lengthy piece consisting of reflections, looking back over my many visits to the city. I tried to make the post as comprehensive as possible but obviously couldn't include everything. Now, after looking back over these notes, it’s evident there are quite a few gaps, and so, in the interests of completeness, I've added them in here. But will this be the final word on Cologne? A city I have visited on eight separate occasions, which is more than any other overseas destinations. The answer is I don't know, although it certainly is for the time being, so sit back and relax as I describe a few more of Cologne’s beery gems.

Brauerei Päffgen is a place that is well-known to beer lovers; not only is its wonderfully hoppy Kölsch brewed at the rear of the premises, but it is also dispensed from wooden casks. A former school friend had taken me to Päffgen during my first visit to Cologne, way back in 1975. My friend was living and working in the city as part of the language degree he was taking. I was also a student, but at the time was travelling around Europe, by train, on an Inter-Rail ticket with a friend from university. Even back then I had a reputation for enjoying good beer so my host, knowing this fact, had taken me to Päffgen as he knew I would be impressed.

I didn’t plan on waiting 34 years before returning, but in 2009, on an evening out with a few colleagues, whilst attending the Cologne International Dental Show, I was finally able to make that return visit to Päffgen. With a sense of eager anticipation, my colleagues and I pushed open the door, and found ourselves in a central corridor with a small room leading off to the left, and a much larger one to the right. We opted for the latter and were soon seated at one of the many tables in the wood-panelled room. On the way in we noticed two up-ended wooden casks, tapped and ready for serving.

We ordered a Kölsch each and were pleasantly surprised by its hoppy flavour. I had a look round the rest of the pub to see if it would bring back any memories. I recognised the large back room at the end of the corridor as being the place where, on a damp July evening, my friend and I had sat enjoying several glasses of Päffgen Kölsch. It was great to be back, even if the memories were rather vague but sadly, as mentioned previously, I haven’t been back since then, despite several attempts during subsequent visits to IDS.

In May 2017, I made a non-work-related visit to Cologne, along with son Matthew. We were part of a group of beer enthusiasts drawn mainly from Maidstone CAMRA, plus a few neighbouring branches. Our visit to Cologne was a one-day interlude, that occurred during a stay in the neighbouring Rhineland city of Düsseldorf – basically what Americans would call a “side-trip.” The transit time between the two cities is around 35 minutes, so it’s a journey that’s well worth making.

We were in Cologne for a look around, and also to have a tour around a typical Kölsch brewery, in the guise of Brauerei Sünner. Our visit was not scheduled until later in the afternoon, so this gave us plenty of time for a look around Cologne and also to sample some Kölsch. We decided to make for Brauerei zur Malzmühle at Heumarkt; an old established former brewpub at the far end of the Alter Markt. This was a pub I had never managed to get to on previous visits to the city, so I was quite pleased with the opportunity to go there this time around.

Housed in a rather functional-looking building, replacing the original structure, which was destroyed in World War II, Malzmühle was every bit the traditional German beer house on the inside. With high ceilings and plenty of wood panelling, we made for the two tables at the far end of the room. One of the thoughtful waiters came over and fixed a “bridge” in between the two, thereby joining them and enabling us to all sit together.  

Malzmühle Kölsch was quite a bitter variant on the style. Being slightly away from the main tourist areas, Brauerei zur Malzmühle was very much a local’s pub, but we were nevertheless made very welcome. (I think the staff were glad of our presence during what seemed a slack period).

Our day in Cologne concluded with the aforementioned visit to Brauerei Sünner, a traditional brewery on the other side of the River Rhine, and one where the Kölsch style of beer is said to have originated. I’m rather surprised to discover, that I didn’t write anything about the brewery tour, at the time, but despite an extensive search cannot find anything. I did take quite a few photos, though, so you will have to make do with those. 

After our tour around the brewery concluded, we enjoyed an excellent evening meal, served in the small beer garden attached to the brewery. This area open to local residents, as well as visitors to the brewery, as evidenced by the photos, and if you look carefully, you will notice a small keg of Kölsch on one of the tables. A nice idea that saves on trips to the bar or trying to attract the attention of the waiting staff.  

One city centre Kölsch outlet that I visited, during one of my first business trips to Cologne, was Pfaffen. At the time, this was the only outlet for the beer of the same name, and story behind this establishment dates back to a fall out between owner, Max Päffgen, and other members of the Päffgen family. This led to Max starting a brewery of his own. I wrote at the time that the Pfaffen Kölsch served at Max’s pub, was probably the best version of the style I tasted during my stay in Cologne. It was so good that I stayed for several more glasses.

The Pfaffen tavern is a long, narrow building featuring some attractive carved, light-coloured woodwork and also some interesting contemporary stained glass. Regrettably, I haven’t been back since, but with beer that good I brought my colleagues there on our last night in the city, and they were well impressed. The beer was served direct from wooden casks, and such was the demand for this excellent Kölsch that we witnessed the cask being changed twice in less than an hour and saw the row of empties stacked up in the corridor.

I’m not sure as to when I first came across Schreckenskammer-Kölsch. It must have been prior to my penultimate visit to Cologne, which was in 2019. This was at a time when I believed I had drunk virtually every Kölsch available in the city, so stumbling upon Schreckenskammer came as something of a surprise. I bought a 500ml bottle during that 2019 trip but was determined to track down the Schreckenskammer pub on my next visit to Cologne, little thinking that, thanks to Covid, the trip wouldn’t be for another four years!

Situated to the north-west of Cologne’s imposing main rail station, or Hauptbahnhof, the pub was quite easy to find, particularly with the assistance of Google Maps, on my Smart Phone.  

The distinctive looking church tower of St Ursula, acted as my guide as I drew near to the pub. With the original Schreckenskammer beer house destroyed by Allied bombing, in 1943, today’s pub is a modern building, which dates from the 1960’s. It is still quite an attractive looking building, which overlooks a paved area at the entrance to the church. Pleased with myself for having found the place, I gingerly pushed the door open and stepped inside.

There was a small room over to the left, with its own serving counter, complete with some casks of beer, in full view of the customers. There was a handful of customers present, plus a member of staff behind the counter. It looked very much like a “private bar,” so I headed, instead, for the larger, and more spacious room to the right. It was laid out with plenty of tables and chairs, but very little in the way of empty places, as most seemed occupied with diners.  I sat myself down at the end of one such table, with my back to the window. I do this in most pubs, as I like to see what’s going on, rather than sit with my back to the action. 

When the waiter, or Kobe, passed, by with his tray of glasses, he uttered the word, “Kölsch,” and almost without waiting for an answer, placed a full glass on the table in front of me, whilst at the same time marking a fresh beer mat, with a tick. The beer was served in a badged glass – as per the photo and was rather good, with a deep golden colour and plenty of body. The pub itself was buzzing, with a lively mix of customers, spanning several different age groups. I got the impression that most of them were local, drawn from the nearby flats.

Finding Schreckenskammer left just one final, classic Cologne pub to tick off my list, and that outlet was the legendary Gaststätte Lommerzheim, which I visited on my final evening in Cologne. Known locally as Lommi’s, this establishment is a “must visit” Cologne institution, and one of those pubs you feel privileged to have experienced. Recommended by a wide assortment of different beer writers, including Matt from Stockport, Retired Martin, and Rob Sterowski, but still far enough off the beaten track to have escaped the notice of the more usual suspects, Lommerzheim is in a class of its own.

Described as a throwback to a bygone era, Lommi’s is a proper community local, catering to a wide age groups and a diverse range of customers. As well as serving one of the best glasses of Kölsch in Cologne - Päffgen, naturally, dispensed from a wooden cask behind the bar counter, the food looks really inviting as well, that’s if you can find space at table where you can sit down and get stuck in. On my visit, shortly after 6pm on a Thursday evening, the place was packed with people were enjoying themselves, either in small groups or conversing with friends and neighbours.

If you want to learn more, then click on the link here, but don’t just take my word for it, add Gaststätte Lommerzheim to your beer-bucket list, or make it an essential part of any visit to Cologne and the Rhineland, (there are some classic pubs in Düsseldorf as well, and like Cologne, the city has its own unique style of beer). If these accounts haven’t whetted your appetite, then I don’t know what will, but I do know I have spent some very happy times in this part of Germany, drank some truly amazing beers and enjoyed them in some equally wonderful pubs.

 

A few reflections looking back with fondness, at Cologne

A couple of posts ago I mentioned my plan to reflect on some of the more notable establishments in Cologne where one can enjoy quality food, free-flowing beer, engaging conversation and a relaxing atmosphere. That was the plan, but the more I’ve looked into it, the more taxing the task has become. Over the course of eight separate visits to Cologne, I've got to know many of the city’s best drinking houses. I did a count up and can list 12 classic beer houses selling Kölsch in the city, plus a number of “also runs”, and that’s without really trying. It's a start though, especially as I’ve had personal experience of all these establishments, but before describing some of them it’s worth reminding ourselves of what Cologne’s unique beer style is all about.

Kölsch is a survivor from the pre-lager brewing tradition of Northern Germany, but over the years has undergone a good deal of change. The most notable of these is the lightening of its colour to pale yellow, giving it the appearance of a Pilsner. It is perhaps not surprising then to learn that it is brewed mainly from Pilsner malt. Kölsch is top fermented at a temperature of between 13 to 21°C, which is more typical of ale brewing, but after the initial fermentation, it undergoes a period of conditioning, where it is lagered at a much colder temperature.

The end result is a clear beer with a bright, straw-yellow hue, but considering its background, there is little ale character to be found, apart from a little fruitiness. Kölsch tends to have a soft, and well-rounded character and can sometimes be on the sweet side.

Kölsch has to be brewed in the Cologne area before it can call itself such, and this qualification is stipulated by the “Kölsch Convention”, which dates back to the 1980’s. The convention was drawn up 24 breweries, some of which are no longer brewing, in order to protect the style from outside imitations. Additionally, a beer may only be called a Kölsch if it meets the following criteria:

It is brewed in the Cologne metropolitan area:

It is pale in colour
It is top-fermented
It is hop-accented
It is filtered
It is a ‘Vollbier’

Kölsch is usually served in small, plain cylindrical glasses known as Stangen, which typically hold just 20 cl of beer, although some outlets will use 25 cl versions. The reason for the small glasses is Kölsch is a beer designed to be drunk fresh. Leaving a newly poured glass standing for any length of time allows the beer’s condition to dissipate and is not conducive to enjoying it at its best. This ensures that customers have a fresh glass of beer for as long as they wish to continue drinking,

Kölsch waiters, who appear to always be male, carry round a circular tray known as a Kranz. This has inserts designed to accommodate up to a dozen glasses, and they will automatically offer customers a fresh glass of Kölsch, making a pencil mark on a beer mat, for each glass taken. The waiters are known as “Köbes” (a word derived from “Jakobus”) and wear distinctive blue aprons. They have a reputation for being a bit gruff, but this might be unfounded, as most of the ones I have come across have been helpful and often friendly as well.

Since the formation of the “Kölsch Convention”, there has been the inevitable mergers and closures, so typical of the brewing industry the world over. This has led to many Kölsch “brands” now being brewed at one large brewery, known as the Kölner Verbund Brauereien GmbH & Co. This is housed in what was formerly the Küppers Brewery.

So, what about the pubs and bars? Personally, I prefer some of the less well-known establishments away from the well-worn tourist trail. But if you’re a stranger to the city, it’s probably advisable to start with some of the more popular establishments and tourist spots, as they offer a good introduction to drinking in Cologne.

One of the most famous Kӧlsch houses in Cologne, as well as one of the largest, is Früh am Dom. "Dom" is the German word for cathedral, and Früh is very close to the magnificent gothic cathedral that dominates the centre of Cologne. 

 I have made several visits to Früh am Dom, and on each occasion this Cologne institution, with its maze of inter-connected rooms, spread out across several different levels, seems to have grown in size. On my last visit to IDS, our group called in at Früh and found the place absolutely heaving. Fortunately, one of the waiters managed to squeeze us in, and looked after our table of six, along with several others. He kept us supplied with numerous glasses of Kölsch that evening and took care of our food orders as well.

Gaffel am Dom, is another large, and cavernous establishment which is on the other side of the cathedral, and just around the corner from the main station (Hauptbahnhof).  It is a beer-hall I know well from numerous visits trips to Cologne, and the Gaffel Kölsch sold is a soft, hoppy, and easy-drinking beer which slips down rather easily. It is also one of the most widely available brands of Kölsch, in Cologne.

Probably my favourite beer house in the city centre is Peter’s Brauhaus, and another establishment that I’ve visited several times. One of the most memorable of these occasions was in 2017, when we called in on what was our second night in the city. Peter’s is a very traditional looking establishment, and the Peters Kӧlsch we enjoyed there was amongst the best we came across during our stay. Even better it was served direct from small metal casks, perched up on a stand behind the bar. Being dispensed by gravity, without the use of extraneous CO2, the beer was smooth tasty and far less gassy compared to what is often the case in Cologne.

Bierhaus en d'r Salzgass, is another classic old town pub, sited on a narrow cobbled street which leads from Heumarkt to Buttermarkt, in an area teeming with pubs, bars and restaurants. I was recommended to try this outlet, by Manchester-based blogger Matt whose informed and well-written site, “When My Feet go Through the Door”, is well worth clicking onto. Matt assured me that, as well as serving Päffgen Kölsch, the pub’s menu was also of a high standard. Two years after that visit to Peter’s, we tried our luck with Bierhaus en d'r Salzgass, after being turned away from a number of other outlets that evening.

As the German speaker of the group, I was left to ask if the pub could accommodate our party of five. The place seemed packed, but the waiter, perhaps warming to being addressed in his native tongue, managed to find us a table squeezed in towards the back of the pub. He also confirmed that we could also pay by card, provided we paid as a group. It was a good move befriending that particular Köbes, as he looked after us well, ensuring we never had an empty glass in front of us, and that our food arrived promptly. I made sure to give him a generous tip when it came to paying the bill.

The Kölsch, which was dispensed straight from the cask was every bit as good as I remembered it, and the food was equally good. Eschewing the rather obvious roast pork knuckle, I opted instead for an old favourite from visits to Munich, in the form of Leberkässe mit Spiegelei & Bratkartoffeln. We spent a couple of hours in this real old-school, traditional pub, soaking up the atmosphere and the beer in equal quantities. I had to accompany the Köbes to the bar, in order to pay, and it was here that I saw the kegs of Päffgen, set out on the counter in a very similar manner to those at Peters Brauhaus.

Päffgen Kӧlsch is worthy of an article of its own, which I will post another time, but not being able to make that third, and probably final visit to this legendary brewpub, remains my sole regret of turning down this year’s visit to IDS. Of course, there’s no guarantee that I would have been able to call in at Päffgen, having been thwarted by circumstances during the last three trips to Cologne, but I regard it as a “special place” and somewhere I’d like to experience one last time. We shall see!