Norfolk highways & byways - Part Two

Suitably refreshed after a good nights sleep, and only awakened by the clucking of the hens in their coup at the rear of the garden, I showered and then wandered down for breakfast. Full English, of course with freshly laid eggs from the aforementioned chickens.

I then set off to visit dad and then to meet up with my sister. Dad’s care home is situated in the small village of Gressenhall, a few miles to the north-west of Dereham. I stopped off first to do some shopping, and also to ensure my arrival did not coincide with the home’s lunchtime.

Dad was just finishing his pudding when I arrived, and was looking pretty good. Despite him not talking a lot of sense he was pleased to see me. He is still reasonably mobile, but not sufficiently so for me to tempt him outside into the enclosed garden area. “Far too cold for sitting outside”, was his response. I stayed for around an hour, and told him I would call in the following day; although I don’t think that registered.

Dereham Museum & Parish Church

After leaving I drove back into Dereham and dived into Greggs for a coffee plus quick bite to eat. I had the laptop with me, so I spent three-quarters of an hour bashing out a couple of draft blog posts, keeping one eye on the keyboard and the other on the comings and goings in this popular High Street chain outlet. For a decent, freshly prepared roll, and an equally decent cup of coffee, you can’t really go wrong, and my egg-salad sub was just the right size and the right price to keep me going until the evening.

Later, I joined my sister, her new husband and one of my nieces for an evening meal at the Romany Rye; the local Wetherspoon’s outlet in Dereham. We arrived around 7pm, to find the place heaving, but fortunately we found a table tucked away at the rear of the pub. My brother-in-law was keen to try out is newly downloaded Wetherspoon’s App, which worked well for our food order, along with the standard drinks, but as blogger, Jessica Boak pointed out recently, the App falls down when it comes to guest ales. I had to make a trip to the bar to discover what was available, and bought my choice physically rather than electronically.

Although I was tempted by the Forbury Lion Strong IPA from Loddon Brewery, at 5.5% ABV it was a little strong, bearing in mind I would be driving back to Mulbarton later. Instead I settled for the 4.5% Flashman’s Clout  from Dorset Brewing Company (DBC). Now this was a beer whose name I remember from sometime back, and I believe it was one of a range of several beers with a “Tom Brown’s Schooldays” theme produced at a brew-pub. If my memory is correct I imagine DBC, who are a relative newcomer on the brewing scene, must have acquired the rights to the name.

The beer was pleasant enough and went well with my Chicken Tikka Masala. We spent an enjoyable evening, catching up, and the big news is my youngest niece is waiting to hear about a place at Oxford University. This will be a first for our side of the Bailey family, so we are keeping our fingers crossed on this one.

We left Spoons shortly before 9pm. It was raining rather heavily outside, so I gave my relatives a lift back to their place before heading back to the B & B. Although  I eventually become accustomed to it during winter, I don’t like driving along unlit roads after dark, especially when it’s wet, so it was here that the Sat-Nav really came into its own.

I don’t think I could have found the narrow turning off the A140 without its assistance, and even then I almost missed it, so I was glad to get back to my room and crack open one of the bottles I had left in the fridge. I fired the laptop up and did some writing, until my eyelids became rather heavy and I found myself drifting off.

After another good night’s sleep and another equally good breakfast, I paid by bill and checked out from Meadow Farm Cottage. The place was definitely one of the nicest I have stayed at for a long time, and if it was nearer to Dereham I would consider staying there for future visits to Norfolk.

Beers of Europe

I headed west along the A47 and made my way back to the care-home at Gressenhall, in order to say goodbye to dad. I then headed for home, but not before diverting towards Kings Lynn for a visit to Beers of Europe, in order to satisfy my Rauchbier fix.

The Sat Nav took me along a much quieter route to the north of A47, through some very pleasant country side, through the village of Litcham with its attractive flint-built houses,  and then across Massingham Heath. People who don’t know Norfolk that well have a preconception that the county is totally flat, and whilst it is in places, there are some hills towards the northern coastal area. My drive through a long, gradually sloping, dry valley, with the sun shining and hardly another vehicle in sight, was very pleasant, and I was sorry when I had to eventually leave this pleasing landscape and join the much busier A47.

Former maltings - Bishops Stortford

I picked up a few bottles at Beers of Europe, including several Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbiers, before heading south on the A10 towards Ely. The Fenland countryside looked quite different from my visit earlier in the year, as the bare, dark black soil had been replaced with fields of fully grown crops; particularly wheat. I skirted Ely and turned off towards Soham, before picking up A14 to the north of Newmarket. 

I stopped briefly at Bishop’s Stortford for a look round and to stretch my legs, before continuing my journey south via the M11 and the M25. I arrived home just after 4pm, just in time to collect my son from work, and to enjoy the rather tasty lasagna which Eileen had prepared for us.

The Butt & Oyster - Pin Mill

When the  author Arthur Ransome’s name is mentioned, people automatically think of his classic children’s book,  "Swallows and Amazons". In 1937, Ransome published "We Didn't Mean to Go to Sea",  which was the seventh book in the series about the Walker family (the Swallows). The book is set in a new location, on the other side of the country from the Lake District, and sees the Walkers staying at Pin Mill on the River Orwell just downstream from Ipswich.

Like many people, I have fond childhood memories of "Swallows and Amazons", although I never progressed to reading any of the other books in the series. The reason though, for me mentioning  "We Didn't Mean to Go to Sea" is that last Friday I managed my first visit to Pin Mill, and its famous waterside-pub the Butt & Oyster.

Pin Mill is a hamlet on the south bank of River Orwell, which is tidal at this point. It is close to the village of Chelmondiston on the Shotley peninsula. The settlement was once a busy landing point for ship-borne cargo, a centre for the repair of Thames sailing barges and home to many small industries such as sail making, a maltings (now a workshop) and a brickyard.

Like my home county of Kent, the east coast of England has a long history of smuggling, and Pin Mill and the Butt & Oyster pub allegedly played key parts in this. Pin Mill has  been the subject of many paintings and photographs, and is a popular yacht and dinghy sailing destination.

The Butt & Oyster is best described as a traditional 17th century inn. It is famed for its setting on the bank of River Orwell and the fine views it offers across the estuary. To take full advantage of this, there is a substantial amount of outdoor seating to front of pub, and this is very popular on sunny days.  The Butt & Oyster can get very busy in summer and also at weekends, and has been long renowned for its food menu, which includes a number of fish dishes.

There are three separate rooms inside, connected by a corridor with flagstone floors, and along with the main bar, there is a small snug, plus a much larger dining room. There are some high backed settles plus a large open fire in main bar area, making it very cosy on cold winter days. The pub has featured in a number of films and was once used as a filming location in an episode of the TV series Lovejoy, when it was known as "The Three Ducks".

I’m not quite sure when the Butt & Oyster Inn first registered on my consciousness, but I imagine I think I must have come across it in a book of old inns. Looking back through my collection of pub books, I noticed the pub is listed in Classic Country Pubs, written by former CAMRA Good Beer Guide editor Neil Hanson, and published in 1987.

Back then the pub belonged Tolly Cobbold who were the dominant brewery, not only in the Ipswich area, but across wide swathes of Suffolk, and even spreading into adjoining counties. Tolly of course, have long gone to that great brewery graveyard in the sky, and their impressive Cliff Brewery, fronting on to the waterfront in Ipswich, is currently the subject of a number of redevelopment plans, which could see the buildings converted for residential  or commercial use. Somewhere along the line, the Butt & Oyster was acquired by local brewing heroes Adnam’s, and is now one of the Southwold brewer’s flagship pubs.

It was a pub I had wanted to visit for a long time, but despite making regular trips up to Norfolk, there never seemed sufficient time to divert across to the Orwell estuary, and the tiny riverside settlement of Pin Mill. It wasn’t until I looked at a more detailed map of the area, that I realised just how do-able it was to divert off the A12 - A14 junction at Copdock to the south of Ipswich. The acquisition of a Sat-Nav made the whole process even easier.

Last Friday therefore saw me diverting off the A14, convinced at first that the Sat-Nav was taking me the wrong way. However, when I saw a sign for Chelmondiston followed by an initial glimpse of the River Orwell, I knew my instincts were wrong and I needed to put my trust in technology and follow the instructions. (This has actually been the case on several other occasions, and I have slowly learned to trust the device).

I passed under the impressive Orwell Bridge which carries the A14 over the river, and before long found myself driving along a relatively peaceful B1456. I soon reached Chelmondiston, and just past the centre of the village I turned off down a narrow lane towards Pin Mill.

As I approached the end of the lane, I saw a sign for a car park along with a notice advising motorists there was nowhere to park along the shore, so I followed the instruction and found a small “Pay & Display” area. I actually managed to grab the last free space, so that was a bonus; as was the fee of just 30p for an hour’s parking.

I then walked the couple of hundred yards to the end of the lane and down a slope to the shoreline.  The River Orwell lay straight ahead, whilst to my left was a motley collection of old boats. On my right, was the legendary Butt & Oyster, with its outdoor dining area appearing to rise straight out of the water.

After stopping to take a few obligatory photos, I hurried inside and headed first for the Gents. On he way back I took a quick look into the small and cosy snug, before turning right into the main bar. I was pleased with what I saw, specially as the bar was everything I imagined it to be. With a tiled floor and wood-panelled walls, the crowning glory was the bay window which looks out over the estuary. There was a family group sat at the table which occupies the window space, whilst on the opposite side was a rather jolly party of walkers.

I made my way to the bar, and whilst waiting patiently to be served, had time to admire the row of beer casks stillaged behind the bar. There were four Adnam’s beers available; Southwold, Ghost Ship, Regatta and Broadside. As I was driving, I opted for the Southwold which at £3.90 a pint was better value than the pub I would visit later in the day; see previous post. I scored it at 3.0 NBSS, and the only thing spoiling it was the "stylised" Adnam’s glass.

I found myself a seat, just along from the window, and sat down to enjoy my beer and to soak up the atmosphere of this timeless old inn. The bar staff were fairly busy, as were their colleagues in the kitchen, but both seemed to be coping admirably. The dining room, which leads of from the main bar, also seemed busy, but was nowhere near completely full; even though the food offer looked really good. Perhaps the dull and overcast conditions outside had deterred any fair weather visitors, but I was just glad the pub wasn’t totally packed out.

I only stayed for the one pint, as I still had a fair way to go to reach my pre-booked bed and breakfast place, a few miles to the south of Norwich. Before returning to the car, I took a short walk along the shoreline, stopping to admire the views and the boats, whilst soaking up the atmosphere of this almost hidden nautical haven. I took quite few photos; some of which you can see on this post.

I am certainly pleased that I made the effort to visit both Pin Mill and the Butt & Oyster, and can clearly see why, eighty years ago, Arthur Ransome fell in love with the place and used it as the setting for one of his best known books.

Norfolk highways & byways - Part One

It’s nice to get away sometimes, especially when there’s been a lot going on both the work and domestic fronts, so a long-overdue trip up to Norfolk to see dad seemed a good idea. After selecting a free weekend, I booked Friday off; the idea being to spend two nights in the county and to make a decent break of it. Unfortunately my plans for an early departure were delayed somewhat as we ended up having to have a new washing machine installed, and that Friday was the most suitable day.

As it happened the “Know-How” team from Currys arrived reasonably early, and seeing as we’d ordered a built-in “integrated” machine to replace the one which had died, it was well worth paying for it to be installed by a professional team, rather than me crawling on my hands and knees trying to connect the various pipes.

After some clearing up and putting a few things away, it was 11am by the time I left; although it took me another 10 minutes to programme the Sat-Nav! Despite my reasonably early start, I still hit six miles of queuing traffic on the approach to the Dartford Crossing. This seems a regular occurrence, as I got caught in the same place on my previous trip to Norfolk, and on the way back on Sunday, I noticed the same lengthy, northbound queues.

Once through the tunnel, the traffic thinned out (where does it all go?), and I made good progress, but obviously not sufficient to make up for the 40 minute delay. After turning off onto the A12 (not my favourite road) just south of Ipswich, I made my way to the riverside settlement of Pin Mill, and the famous Butt & Oyster Inn; a pub I had wanted to visit for a long time, but had never quite managed to. It was here that the Sat-Nav really came into its own.

I am writing a separate post about this famous, National Inventory - listed pub, so I won’t elaborate further, but I was pleasantly surprised that my visit there only involved a deviation of 15-20 minutes both ways. I took the A14, towards Newmarket, before turning off onto the A140, just before Stowmarket.

For those unfamiliar with the A140, it is an old Roman road, so it is fairly straight, although most of it though is single carriageway, with speed restrictions along much of its length. This was always my least favourite route up to Norfolk, but needs must and all that. During the course of my journey I noticed there were a large number of pubs lining the road; some in quite isolated locations. The term “roadhouse” springs to mind, but most of these pubs looked much older than the “between the wars” establishments which sprang up to cater for the growing motoring trade.

I imagine that most were old coaching inns, which acted as staging posts along this ancient route towards Norwich. There are some quite famous old inns along this road, although not all have survived as pubs. Several appear to have been converted into upmarket gastro-pubs, or even restaurants. For example, the Yaxley Bull is now an up-market restaurant called the Aurberge, the Countryman was once the Bird in Hand and the former Dun Cow, is now the strangely-named Sugar Beet Eating House.

Fortunately traditional pubs, such as the White Horse, the Old Ram and the Walnut Tree still survive, and the Magpie at Stonham Parva, which had a gantry sign spanning the carriageway, has re-opened following a lengthy period of closure. I had noticed many of these establishments on past journeys, and in an effort not to doze off, I started thinking it would be interesting to do a pub crawl along the A140, stopping off at whichever of these old pubs took my fancy. Obviously I would need the services of a tame, non-drinking driver, but if I lived locally a min-bus trip with a group of friends, would be an idea worthy of serious exploration.

I arrived at my pre-booked bed & breakfast establishment shortly before 5pm; having stopped off at a Co-Op supermarket to stock up on a few items such as bottled water – for me and chocolate biscuits for dad. I’d had trouble finding somewhere at a reasonable price, that wasn’t booked up, but with the school summer holidays in full swing, this was perhaps not surprising. My chosen abode for the weekend (I was staying for two nights), was some distance from the Dereham area, where dad’s care home is situated and my sister also lives.

Fortunately I found the delightfully named Meadow Farm Cottage, a cosy and comfortable establishment just outside the village of Mulbarton. I checked into my room, with its view out across the garden and hen coup to the fields beyond, unpacked and then decided it was time to do some exploring.

I knew there was a large Adnam’s pub on the other side of the village, as I had already checked out the locality on Google Maps. The landlady had told me the pub was quite walkable, and that she and her husband quite often went there on foot. It should take around 45 minutes, so I decided to give it a go, and set off armed with a torch, a pre-downloaded route map on my phone and a shower-proof coat. The torch was important for walking back in the dark; not some much to see where I was walking, but to make sure any on-coming cars were aware of me. The coat was essential, because rain was forecast for later.

I found the pub without difficulty, even though it seemed further than I thought. The walk afforded me the chance of seeing Mulbarton close-up, and it reminded me of Swanton Morley; the village where my parents had retired to when they first moved up to Norfolk. Many of the bungalows were constructed in a similar style, and were obviously of the same era (late 70’s – early 80’). More than a few had that tired look about them, which characterised my parents’ bungalow in the later years. I also noticed that several were in the process of being renovated or even extended.

Mulbarton was also considerably larger than I expected, and there were a couple of new housing developments taking place. I noticed that some of these new dwellings were constructed in a Flemish-style, with those Dutch-looking gables which are quite prominent in parts of East Anglia. There is a reasonable sized Co-Op in the village, along with a separate Post Office and convenience store. The impressive, flint-built parish church is the other side of the expansive common area, and it is here that the World’s End pub is situated.

The pub dates back to the 1600’s, and in its time was an important Coaching Inn.  It has obviously been enlarged over the years and today offers fine locally sourced food and drink, along with bed and breakfast accommodation. Adnam’s are the owning brewery, and on entering the spacious main bar, I noticed Ghost Ship and Regatta on sale alongside the staple Southwold Bitter.

I opted for the Ghost Ship, which was in good form (3.0 NBSS), but rather pricey. £4.20 seems more like London prices than what one might expect for rural Norfolk. All the same, I had two pints along with a rather delicious fish pie which was every bit as good as the description on the pub menu.

There were various groups of diners seated in various strategic positions, but I managed to find a table close to the door to the attractive and well-laid out rear garden, where my eardrums wouldn’t be overwhelmed by other people’s conversations. There is also a games area at the far right of the pub, which seemed quite well used. The pub seemed quiet for a Friday evening, and I heard the manager remarking to his colleague behind the bar, that it was a bit of a contrast to the previous week.

Obviously the unseasonably cool weather, we are experiencing at present, hadn’t helped trade, and having to walk back in the pouring rain didn’t really help me either, but I arrived back at the cottage in one piece. I hung my trousers up to dry, although they were still a trifle wet the following morning. I slept like the proverbial log, until being wakened some time after 6am by the rather noisy chickens, in the coup at the end of  the garden.

To be continued…………………………………………..

Carried away?

The subject of this post is not particularly about beer, although beer does play a part. What I am about to write about is one of the less pleasant sides of human behaviour, and whilst the perpetrators may not even realise  their actions show them in a less than favourable light, I feel it is something worth drawing people’s attention to, and also worthy of further discussion.

The subject is greed, and the context is people’s behaviour when presented with a “free bar”, or “open tab” at a function such as a wedding, firm’s do, or other event where the host will be picking up the bill.

Last Saturday evening, my wife and I attended a bash thrown by a firm of builder’s she does work for. My wife works as a book-keeper, on a self-employed basis, checking people’s accounts and helping them to file their tax and VAT returns. She only spends a few hours a week on this particular company’s books, but she looks after the payroll, and the boss obviously appreciate what she does for the firm.

Once a year, the boss throws a summer party, which he claims is a much better idea than a Christmas do. I wouldn’t disagree, as it is certainly nice to be outside enjoying some alfresco drinking and eating during the warm weather.

Last Saturday was the second such event we have been invited to. The venue was the same as the previous year, and was the Carpenter’s Arms; a slightly upmarket pub, just to the north of Tonbridge, on the road towards East Peckham. I wrote about the pub here, and this year I am pleased to report that this time around the beer offering was enhanced by the addition of Dark Star Hophead, to go with the Harvey’s Sussex, plus the ubiquitous Doom Bar.

We arrived a little late – 90 minutes late to be precise, as somehow Eileen had got the times wrong! It didn’t matter, as the party was in full swing and, more importantly, there was still some food left. The food was excellent, with mini-burgers and those posh freshly-cooked scotch eggs, with the bright yellow, runny yolks, some seriously good quiche, chicken drumsticks plus sausage rolls. The beer was good too, although the Hophead was rather on the cold side, even for my liking.

The guests had gathered on the walled patio, over-looking the road at the front of the pub. We sat ourselves down at a vacant table in order to enjoy our food, before moving over to join the rest of the assembly. We managed to squeeze on at the end of one of the tables, and after a few introductions, joined in with the conversation plus the general and, at times quite lewd, banter (we are talking builders here!).

I made a trip back to the bar to pick up a couple more drinks, and it is here that I need to point out that the company were running an “open tab”. I had another pint of Hophead, whilst Eileen, who doesn’t really drink, had a lime and soda. 

I returned with our drinks and sat back down again. It was then that I noticed the two pints of Becks (they were badged glasses), on the table close to where we were sitting, hadn’t been touched. Actually, that’s not quite true as both were around a third empty. What I should have said, they hadn’t been touched, or even claimed, all the time we were sitting there.

I also noticed a full bottle of Orange J2O, sitting there with the cap off, but otherwise untouched. When the barmaid came round collecting empties, I noticed quite a few other partially full glasses which were also unclaimed.

Later in the evening, the champagne was brought out and there was a rush for that. I didn’t bother, as I was quite happy with my beer and didn’t want to mix drinks either. Shortly before 11pm, the company boss called time on the tab. This seemed to induce panic in the two girls sitting opposite us, who rushed (staggered actually, as they were quite drunk), into the pub to “Get a few shots”.

To me this really was taking the piss, and a real abuse of the host’s generosity. Along with the umpteen drinks left unfinished on several of the tables, plus the partially drunk bottles of wine, still in their cooling buckets, these cost of these wasted items must have amounted to a fairly significant amount.

Don’t get me wrong this was a good evening out, and both Eileen and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The food was excellent and the company, on the whole, good. Drink wise I had four pints of Hophead, whilst Eileen had a slimline tonic, a lime and soda plus a coffee. Neither of us wanted, or indeed needed any more. Now I am not trying to be virtuous, as I’m certain had we wanted more drinks we could have had them, and that applied to everyone; but there does come a point where people’s greed takes over, and they start ordering more alcohol, just because they can. Given the amount of half-consumed drinks scattered around the place, I was glad it was not me picking up the tab, but I also felt annoyed that the host’s generosity had been taken for granted and abused in this fashion.

Back at work on Monday, I related Saturday night’s experiences, and my thoughts about people taking the piss, to a couple of colleagues. One said he had been a guest at a wedding recently where there WAS an “open bar”, but drinks were restricted to beer, wine or non-alcoholic ones. Those wanting spirits or shots were required to dip into their own pockets.

He said that virtually everyone was happy with this arrangement, which seemed eminently sensible to me. It mirrors the policy adopted in recent years by the company I work for. After putting up with people playing “drinking games” (usually involving shots), at the firm’s Christmas Party, a similar edict, limiting drinks to beer, wine and soft drinks, was issued. The result, less loutish behaviour and drunkenness, along with a greatly reduced bar-bill at the end of the evening.

It is this last point which is probably the most important, particularly in the context of last Saturday night. The company hosting the party is family owned, and like most small businesses sometimes struggles to pay its bills. Whilst it obviously makes for good employer, worker and supplier relations, at the end of the day these events have to be paid for out of company profits. It makes little sense for people to indulge in the sort of irresponsible or wasteful behaviour witnessed the other night; especially when such actions might place the future survival of the company they work for, in jeopardy.

I am all for people having a good time, but when they start taking advantage in this sort of fashion, I get rather annoyed. My wife who as previously mentioned, looks after the accounts, hasn’t yet seen the bill, but we were guesstimating that it would  be quite substantial. As with all these things there needs to be  limits set. My company has learned this over the years, and I’m sure others are starting to do the same.

People’s behaviour though, never ceases to amaze me and when there’s a heady mixture of alcohol involved, it is perhaps not surprising they sometimes end up getting carried away.

Beer festivals - a few thoughts

A few weeks ago, the Pub Curmudgeon posted an article on his blog, entitled “Festival Fatigue”.  Four years ago I also published an article, with an identical title, where I pursued a similar line that beer festivals are becoming two a penny, and their appeal is starting to wear a bit thin.

I would argue that the unique selling point of CAMRA-style beer festivals has definitely been eroded, especially as at this time of year they are two a penny. A friend and CAMRA colleague of mine compiles a regular update on branch socials, and other beer-related activities, and emails it out to local branch members, normally twice a month.

One of the largest sections on the mail out is the list of forthcoming beer festivals. During the spring and summer months, it seems like virtually every well-known free-house in the area is running its own beer festival; along with the ones organised by the local football/rugby or cricket team. It would be good to see a bit more communication between pubs and sporting organisations in order to avoid these events clashing, although you know full well that this isn’t going to happen.

Summer weekends in general, and Bank Holiday weekends in particular are obviously popular times to pick, but with so many festivals going on there’s a danger attendances will be diluted across the board, and the individual impact each one might have had will be lessened. 

I know from my own experiences that there’s an enormous amount of hard work which goes into running these events, so I wouldn’t knock them for one moment, but like Curmudgeon I do wonder whether the popularity of some of the larger festivals has now peaked. They have either become victims of their own success, or perhaps people just prefer something a little less formal and a bit more intimate.

This is particularly true in my case, as over the last few years I have become less and less interested in attending major events such as CAMRA’s flagship Great British Beer Festival, and  I have decided to give the 2017 event a miss altogether. I have also just missed this year’s Kent Beer Festival, preferring in both instances something a little more personal and more manageable.

The only beer-related festival I have been to this year was the recent SIBA South East Festival, which I wrote about here. I enjoyed this event because it was local; I could walk there, I could take my family along and I knew I would also meet up with quite a few other people who I know.

The outdoor setting also helped, as did the fine weather, as to me there’s nothing finer than sitting out in the fresh air, whilst enjoying a few beers in the presence of friends or family.  Two of the finest festivals I have been to in recent years also took place outdoors.

In 2013, by son and I attended Annafest, an event which takes place every July, in woods above the small Franconian town of Forchheim; a town which is situated roughly halfway between Nuremberg and Bamberg, and which is blessed with four breweries. Two years later, in June 2015, I visited Nuremberg itself for the Frankische Bierfest; a celebration of all that is best in beer from the local region.

Annafest fitted the pattern of most German Beer Festivals, with an emphasis on local beer. The four Forchheim breweries Hebendanz, Greif, Eichhorn and Neder all brew a strong Bock beer especially for the festival called Annafestbier, and a number of other local breweries supply brews of their own as well. The beer is only served in one litre Maß Krugs, which makes sampling more than a few different beers in the course of a session not really advisable. It is certainly a world away from the half, or even third pint measures, beloved by “tickers” at GBBF and other UK festivals.

There are however, other attractions such as fairground rides, various stalls, plus six stages which feature a wide range of different musical acts, to accompany the prolific beer drinking. The festival takes place at the “Kellerwald; a site occupying a wooded hillside, just on the edge of Forchheim. There are 23 Bierkellers (beer gardens really), most of which only open for Annafest, although a small number are open all year.

Fränkisches Bierfest, on the other hand, is different as it offers a choice of beers, from around 40 different breweries, drawn from all over the Franconian region. In this respect it more closely resembles a typical British CAMRA Beer Festival, rather than those found in other parts of Germany. The festival’s outdoor setting, in the moat which runs below the impressive bulk of Nuremberg’s Kaiserburg, or Imperial Castle, was also another plus point for me.

In 2015,  there were 38 breweries represented; all but one based in Franconia. Each brewery had its own stand, and virtually all offered between two and four different beers. There was plenty of seating (UK festival organisers please take note!), with the polished wooden tables and benches which are typical of most German beer gardens. There were also plenty of pub-type umbrellas, providing some much needed shade - essential in 30˚ of heat.

Food was the usual German fast food offerings of sausages (either Nürnberger or Thuringer) in bread rolls, grilled mackerel or pizza. On my visit I sampled 11 different beers, which included various Hells, Vollbiers, Landbiers, Kellerbiers, plus the odd Dunkles and Pils. All were good; with some served direct from wooden casks, although most were served from pressurised kegs.

There was a great party atmosphere, and whilst most festival goers were within the 20-30 year age bracket, there was still a good sprinkling of people from other age groups. What was particularly pleasing was the number of female visitors, and I would estimate that women made up roughly 35-40% of the attendees.

The central location, free admission and stunning setting, all added to the overall appeal of Fränkisches Bierfest, making it very much a festival I want to visit again. If you want a beer event which combines the best of both German and British festival traditions, then this one should definitely be on your agenda.

A number of UK Beer Festivals are also outdoor events; the best known one being Peterborough. I think I am correct in saying, Peterborough is the second largest festival in the country, after GBBF. It is certainly the largest such event in the UK to be held outdoors. I have never been, as for some strange reason I have always overlooked this festival. I will add it to my list, although I have probably left it a little late to attend this year’s event.

For many years, Maidstone & Mid-Kent CAMRA have also held a very successful outdoor festival, and this event used to feature regularly on my calendar. In many ways, this one day, local festival may be better than Peterborough, as it is smaller and therefore more personal (see below).

I’ve gone slightly off topic, as the post started out as highlighting the large numbers of beer festivals, and the fact their appeal may be starting to wane. I also described my own growing dissatisfaction with some of the larger events.  I find it pointless to have several hundred different beers on sale (Olympia is boasting 900 this year), as the paradox of too much choice is actually less choice. Such festivals are just too large and too impersonal for my liking.

I went on to describe my preference for local beer festivals and my growing preference for outdoor events, both at home and abroad. I am also appreciating more the importance of socialising at these events; as opposed to just seeing how many new beers one can “tick off”.
 

Things are obviously changing in the world at large, and I think that over time we will see a shift away from the large-scale events, where the object is to cram as many beers in as possible, to festivals which major much more on beer appreciation as well as learning about the different styles of this multi-faceted drink.  

Not on a school night

I wouldn’t exactly say I have led a sheltered life, so it may come as a surprise to learn that the saying, presumably in fairly common usage, “Not on a school night” only pricked my consciousness a few years ago. The saying is often used in the context of having commitments the next day, especially in the morning; commitments such as work, important meetings or deadlines which prevent one from doing something (usually fun and sometimes even downright stupid) on that night.

“Not on a school night” is said to owe its origins to children having to go to bed early because school was the next day, but adults now also use this expression informally to describe the evening before a day when they have to get up to go to work.

Several posts ago I wrote a CAMRA-related article about the problems currently facing Europe's most successful consumer organisation which, despite rising levels of membership, is seeing active participation in the Campaign, falling to an all time low.

My own situation is that after 30+ years of involvement at committee level, with my local branch, I have taken a back seat and am just an "ordinary member", who can pick and choose which meeting or socials I attend, without having to feel guilty about "not doing my bit". I actually stood down two years ago, and whilst I was not as heavily involved as some, it still felt like a great weight having been lifted off my shoulders; liberating, if you like.

It is now, as an ordinary member that I can start to appreciate why attendances at branch socials are at an all time low (certainly within my own branch, that is). Historically, many branches held socials mid-week, during the evening, as this was when pubs were most likely to be at their quietest. This meant members could socialise without getting in the way of the pub’s regular customers, but a by-product was a welcome boost in mid-week trade for the pub.

When I first became actively involved with CAMRA, back in the late 1970’s, attending mid-week evening socials was not a problem. I was 40 years younger and a regular pub-goer. Having two to three pints of an evening was not a problem; sometimes I might stretch it to four and still feel OK the following morning. In addition, my job was not as arduous back then and neither did it carry as many responsibilities, all of which meant I could turn up at the pub in question, enjoy several pints and then be fine for work the following morning.

Times have changed, my body has obviously changed too and I find myself no longer able to consume the amount of beer I did 30-40 years ago. This is not a bad thing, and I’m certain I am healthier, and wealthier for it. I also fairly certain that I’m not the only person whose alcohol consumption has declined over the years; but one thing I’m not at all certain about is whether the thinking and the strategy behind many CAMRA branch socials has changed in keeping with people’s altered drinking patterns.

With this in mind, I am becoming more and more of the opinion “Not on a school night”, especially as I find that drinking more than a couple of pints, leaves me feeling nowhere near as bright and alert as I should be the following morning.

There is another reason though why I am not so keen to venture out on a weekday evening, and it boils down to having my dinner when I get home from work. We normally eat at around 6pm, which is the time our son is normally home from work. It might sound a lame excuse, but by the time we have finished eating, washed up, had a cup of coffee and then relaxed for a while, I don’t particularly feel like going back out again; especially after a busy day at work.

Meetings and socials, organised by my local West Kent CAMRA Branch, have traditionally kicked off at 8pm. This situation came about because the former branch chairman worked in London, so would aim to arrive at the pub straight off the commuter train.  Getting something solid inside him beforehand didn’t seem to matter.

I am the complete opposite, as I don’t like drinking on an empty stomach. Perversely, I don’t enjoy my beer as much either if I am too full up; so rushing out to a social,  straight after dinner, especially if it is a train ride away, is not my idea of fun. If I have a beer at home, I will normally wait until around 9pm, by which time my body has had time to at least partially digest my meal.

I have been known to turn up to socials at this sort of hour, but I tend to restrict my attendance under these circumstances to purely local locations. It certainly isn’t worth making a train journey that late in the evening, particularly when it’s an early start for work the following morning.

Now if other folk feel and act the same way as me, then it’s likely they too won’t be over keen to turn out on a cold January night, especially if there’s some travelling involved. So is it any wonder that attendances at CAMRA socials have fallen off, particularly if they fall on a weekday, or the location is a rural one.

In these sorts of situation, the saying, “Not on a school night,” seems to make more and more sense.