Trappists go hi-tech

Back in November 2015, I wrote an article about the visit I made to the St Sixtus Monastery at Westvleteren in West Flanders. St Sixtus Monastery is the smallest of the 10 Trappist Monastery Breweries, with an output of just under 4,000 barrels, or 126,000 gallons, a year, but its beers are amongst the most sought after.

I was in Belgium for the 2015 European Beer Bloggers Conference, but didn’t actually set foot inside the abbey or even get much of a glimpse of the place. To say that the monastery, hidden behind its high brick wall, is rather secretive would be an understatement, but the world-class beers brewed by the monks can be enjoyed at the modern and spacious café, located just across from the abbey.

The café is known as In de Vrede, and not only can you drink the beer by the glass there, but you can also buy limited quantities of bottles to take home with you at the integral shop, (maximum of two six-packs per person). Those wishing to buy more have to do so at the monastery gate, and that is a much more fraught experience. Not only are you limited to just one case per car, but your order must be reserved at least 60 days in advance.

You do this by calling the brewery over the "beer phone"; a dedicated number which is supposed to put you through to the brewery, but more often than not, it is impossible to get through. It is claimed that at peak times as many as 85,000 calls are made per hour, and it is reckoned that only around 200 callers get through during the two-to-three-hour window when orders may be placed.

Determined drinkers do manage to place an order though as, on most afternoons, a line of cars forms outside the monastery walls at a pick-up point for the latest coveted batch. Drivers stay in their cars as staff check registration plates, load the single crate and then take the credit card payments.

So why bother, and why all this secrecy and fuss? The answer lies in the title of my 2015 post; “The Best Beer in the World?” Back in 2005, the beer-information website RateBeer.com ranked Westvleteren 12° as the best beer in the world.  The monks at Saint Sixtus who brew this dark, quadrupel-style beer were not at all pleased by the ensuing publicity, despite this award being an achievement that most brewers can only dream of.

As you can imagine, a beer which few people had heard of suddenly rocketed in popularity. One day, a few dozen people were drinking the beer; the next, there was a huge line of cars queuing up at the abbey gate to buy it. Stories began to appear about the abbey's stocks of Westvleteren 12 starting to run low, so to counter this situation the monks were forced to reduce the amount of beer sold to each customer.

In a rare interview one of the brothers explained that the abbey had no intention of increasing its production, despite the clear demand for the beer. "We make the beer to live”, he said, “but we do not live for beer.” . In other words, they brew beer only in sufficient quantities to support themselves and their abbey, and are not in the business of brewing beer in order to win awards, or to make money

Despite this reticence, things are about to change at St Sixtus Abbey because, in a bid to stop the thriving black market in this most sought after of beers, the holy fathers have been forced to go digital. Because of its credence and ranking amongst the top beers in the world, Westvleteren 12, which has been brewed since 1838, is a highly sought after beer. The brothers sell a crate of 24 bottles for £40 at the brewery gate, and insist the beers should only be sold to private individuals and not businesses.

In practice, this does not always happen, as despite the ban, it is possible to buy Westvleteren 12,  in a number of off-licences and bars in Belgium, invariably at an inflated price. For example, a bottle can sell in Brussels for about £14, and reach up to £40 in the USA. Its providence is increased by the Trappist monks’ resolve to only brew as much each year as they need to cover their annual costs.

Things came to a head last year, when a Dutch supermarket chain placed 7,000 bottles on sale priced at £9 a bottle. The chain received a stern rebuke from the monks, although at the same time it prompted the holy fathers to abandon their complicated phone ordering system, described above, in favour of an online shop.

The new system allows orders to be placed at anytime, and the software  has been programmed to give first-time buyers an advantage over regular customers. Every beer and every shopper will be given an online code, which means customers can be linked to the beers they buy.

The beers must still be picked up from the abbey, and no customer can return until 60 days after their last purchase. This ruling was also enforced under the old system, as the monks demanded the registration number of their visitors' cars.

Speaking about the new system to Flemish broadcaster VRT, brother Manu Van Hecke, Abbot of St Sixtus Abbey said, “We like to give as many people as possible the opportunity to buy our beer at the right price.”  He went on to warn though that, “Anyone who does not adhere to the sales rules and abuses the system will be denied access to the web store."

The new system certainly seems a lot easier, although whether it can prevent the black-market sales, feared by the monks, remains to be seen. I mentioned in the 2015 article that a work colleague has a Belgian friend who visits England quite regularly. In the past he has brought over various Flemish beers for me, so now, given the new digital system, I am tempted to order a case of Westvleteren 12 and get him to deliver it next time he comes over.

Finally, I wish to express my solidarity with the monks of St Sixtus Monastery, along with my contempt for sites, such as RateBeer, which created this un-holy mess in the first place. They have turned the world of beer drinking into little more than a glorified, "list-ticking exercise", rather than what it should be – the appreciation and enjoyment of  good beer.

No self-respecting beer lover needs a ranking site to tell them what to drink; especially as such a forum can be open to manipulation. Why not make your own mind up? Don’t follow the crowd; do some proper research of your own. Get out there and try these beers for yourself. Even better, try and visit some of the places where they are produced, and experience how better these world classic beers taste on their home turf.

Last honk for Honker's

This short post is not one for those who believe that beer drinking should only be done in the pub, rather than in the home. If you’re a cask/real ale aficionado, I can kind of see your point, but there are times when, for a number of reasons, you just fancy a beer in the comfort of your own home.

For me such situations arise whilst I’m sat in front of my computer, bashing away on my keyboard, but they also occur when I fancy  the odd glass of beer with my dinner, or after a hard day in the garden. (Yesterday, was such an occasion).

Being someone who likes a bargain, a trait I acquired from my late mother, I was more than pleased when, whilst out shopping, some high-quality, cut-price beer turned up in the most unexpected and  most unlikely of places.

Earlier today Mrs PBT’s and I popped into our local branch of the discount store Home Bargains, to pick up a few things for the garden. Whilst walking up and down the aisles, I got all excited when I noticed a member of the replenishment team pushing a trolley full of cases of beer.

The beer in question was Honker’s Ale, from US-based Goose Island Beer Company, so hurrying round to the beer aisle I noticed six-bottle packs of this beer, in their own integral carrier, on sale for the bargain price of £3.99. That’s just 67p a bottle! I grabbed a couple of packs off the shelf, and deposited them in our trolley, alongside the seeds and ornamental plant pots Mrs PBT’s had bought.

Yesterday evening, I stumbled upon a potential reason why this well-regarded beer was on sale at such a ridiculously low price. From what I can gather, Honker’s is one of the brands being dropped from Goose Island’s portfolio. The company is no longer an independent, family-owned concern, having been snapped up by US brewing giant, Anheuser-Busch (AB), back in 2011.

Today much of Goose Island’s production takes place at AB plants either in New York, or Colorado, rather than at the company’s original home in Chicago. Honker’s was one of Goose Island’s original flagship beers, but as the demand (particularly in the US), for over-hopped, high-octane double and triple IPA’s has continued to grow, its popularity has declined.

Described as “a fine pale ale that any Englishman would be proud of: traditional yeast, malt and hops make this ale a classic on both sides of the Atlantic,” Honker’s Ale is an excellent, easy-drinking beer, with plenty of malt body, off-set by a rich, fruity hoppiness. For a 4.3%  beer, it certainly packs in plenty of taste, and whilst it might not appeal to citrus-loving, hop-heads, I’m definitely impressed with it, and looking forward to drinking the other 11 bottles. I may well even buy some more!

Honker’s being discontinued, certainly as a regular brand, might well explain why stocks of it have ended up on the shelves of Home Bargains. The beer is packaged in 355ml bottles, rather than the more usual 330ml ones. The larger size is standard for North America, although they have been labelled to meet UK regulations.

So the United States’ loss appears to be the UK’s gain, for the time being at least, and full marks to the buying team at Home Bargains for snapping up this “unwanted  classic” North American ale.

You can read more about what Goose Island (or rather AB), have been up to here, at the Guys Drinking Beer website.                                                                                                               

At Anchor for 40 years

In the fast and ever changing world in which we live in, it’s sometimes good to know there are a few things which don’t change as quickly, or as frequently as we might think. You wouldn’t perhaps include the licensed trade in this category, although a generation or two ago, you almost certainly would.

When I first started drinking it was the norm for a pub licensee to remain at the helm for many years, perhaps then handing on the business to a younger member of the family, but today such longevity is the exception, rather than the rule.

Looking at the way the licensed trade is continuing to change, the established pattern of yesteryear has virtually disappeared, along with qualities such as consistency and stability. The latter two virtues in particular, are sadly missing from the pub trade today, but they haven’t vanished entirely, as I’m about to reveal.

I’m pleased to report that one well-known Sevenoaks landlord has bucked the trend and lasted not just for a few years, but for several decades. That person is Barry Dennis, who is by far the longest serving licensee in Sevenoaks. He has now been behind the bar of the Anchor, in the town’s London Road, for the last 40 years!

Barry comes from a family of publicans, and has certainly seen some changes since he first took over this traditional town pub, back in 1979. Forty years ago the Anchor was a Charrington’s pub; serving Charrington IPA and Draught Bass. Today, whilst the pub is owned by Admiral Inns, Barry has a fair degree of control over the cask beers he is allowed to stock.

With the wisdom which comes from four decades in the trade, Barry has resisted the temptation to turn the Anchor into a “beer-exhibition” show pub, and sensibly stocks just three cask ales. He is obviously doing something right, as he shifts around 10 x nine gallon casks each week; the quality of which can be judged by over two decades in CAMRA’s Good Beer Guide.

But it isn’t just the beer which sparkles at the Anchor, because as well as offering food every day, there is always something else going on at the pub. For example,  Monday is Texas Hold ‘em Poker night, and on other occasions the pub holds regular blues evenings, darts, presentations from various brewers, charity events, meat raffles and open mike nights for budding musicians. Barry is also a keen supporter of the town’s Stag Theatre, which is almost opposite the pub.

As if all this wasn’t enough, there is always Barry himself to liven up proceedings. He is certainly a larger than life character and a real showman to boot; conducting proceedings from behind the bar like a “Master of Ceremonies”. In short, Barry never seems to stand still, and there is always something going on at the Anchor.

Returning to Barry’s milestone achievement, last Thursday evening he generously invited a select group of local CAMRA members, to a meal plus a few drinks at the pub, in order to help celebrate this remarkable achievement. The group consisted of those individuals who have been long standing supporters of what Barry has achieved at the Anchor, during his time at the helm.

I was pleased to be invited to this select gathering, so after catching the train over to Sevenoaks, I made my way up the hill towards the Anchor, accompanied by four other members who I met at the station. We arrived at the pub in plenty of time for the eight o’clock sit down, and Barry of course was behind the bar, waiting to welcome us. Barry is generous to a fault, as the first pint was on him, as were the selection of various craft beer bottles on the table, there to be either enjoyed with the meal, or to take home for those that wished. 

The beers on tap that evening were Wantsum Imperial, Franklin’s English Garden and Gadd’s Seasider. I spent the evening alternating between the Franklin’s and the Gadds, as I have never been a fan of Wantsum. However, I do admit that Wantsum is a brilliant name for a beer, even though the brewery is named after the Wantsum Channel, the watercourse which once separated the Isle of Thanet from the rest of Kent.
 

Barry was certainly on form and we had a lengthy chat before joining the rest of the CAMRA crew, sat at a long table to the left of the bar. The pub was busy with regulars and other customers, enjoying a game of darts, a turn on the pool table or just chatting, but Barry still found time to serve them,  pop back to the kitchen – to see how our meal was progressing, as well as chatting to us.      

Barry and Bill

We eventually sat down to eat and enjoy a well-presented roast dinner of beef and pork, complete with roast potatoes and all the trimmings. The Anchor’s kitchen team certainly surpassed themselves with the meal. There was also cheesecake for afters, but I passed on this, as I find sweet dishes spoil the taste of the beer!

After the meal it was time for the presentation. Forty years deserves something special, and what could be more special and more personal than an original, hand-drawn caricature of Barry, sketched out on behalf of the branch by Bill Beacham, who is a local CAMRA member and regular at the Royal Oak in Tunbridge Wells. Bill also hand-drew the card congratulating Barry on his 40 years, which was signed by those in attendance.

For such an outgoing person, Barry is actually quite modest. He thanked everyone for coming and said that despite his longevity in charge at the Anchor, he hadn’t really done anything special, apart from really loving his job. (He did admit to not liking the paperwork side of running a pub, but that’s understandable!)

This is so true. If you can’t love what you are doing, then you shouldn’t be doing it. This is especially true of the pub trade, where you are dealing with people, on both sides of the bar.

So congratulations to Barry and a big thank-you for Thursday evening’s meal and drinks. One final point, and this is one which is puzzling me as well as Barry, does anyone know who is the longest serving licensee in the UK? And if do, how long have they been doing the job, and what is the name and location of their pub?

Footnote: The photos of the presentation, and of Barry's pen and ink portrait, are courtesy of various West Kent CAMRA members. The rest of the photos are, as usual, my own.

Brighton - part two

After leaving the Brighton Bierhaus we set off in search of something to eat. The pub only served pizza, and that had to be delivered in and as I, at least, wanted fish and chips, we took a walk down to the seafront.

I had noticed several fried fish shops as we walked along the front earlier, but as is often the way of things, they all seemed to have disappeared when we actually wanted to find one to eat at. We crossed the road and took a look at the beach and the pier. Both looked their summer best in the bright, early June sunshine, but despite this there was still no sign of a place to eat.

After crossing back and diving briefly into the Lanes again, we struck lucky, with a fish and chip shop on the corner. The only problem was by now, son Matthew had decided he’d rather have a burger, than that most traditional of seaside dishes, cod and chips.

Cursing the fickleness of youth under my breath, we walked a little further, and found a restaurant with tables set out in front, but protected from the off-shore sea breezes, by a glass screen. Matthew wasn’t sure, I don’t quite know why, seeing as I was paying, but we nevertheless found a convenient table tucked away in the corner.

Looking back, number one son had allowed his blood sugar levels to drop. Rather typically he had skipped breakfast, and apart from a bag of crisps eaten on the train, had not had anything to eat. Combine that with two pints of a 5% beer, and it’s small wonder he was grumpy, but he demolished the house-burger and chips with aplomb. I'm not sure whether washing his meal down with a pint of Stella, helped or not, but his mood did seem to improve.

My selection was more reserved; haddock and chips with a pot of tea. This was far more in keeping with the seaside setting. Buddies proved a good place to stop off at, and other visitors to the town obviously thought the same.

There was a party of four blokes from Switzerland, sitting just along from us. They had obviously just got off the plane, judging by their suitcases complete with the IATA airport code labels, but were getting stuck into their fish and chips, as did the group from “souf” London who arrived shortly afterwards.

The afternoon was getting on, and we still had another pub to visit. The Brighton Beer Dispensary is situated just off Western Road, which is Brighton’s main shopping thoroughfare. We made our way along to this busy part of the town, skirting round the Churchill Square shopping centre.

Matthew works in retail, for a well-known hardware chain of stores, and wanted to check in on the firm’s Brighton branch. Talk about a busman’s holiday, but I went along with him, just to be nosey. A stock audit was taking place, as Matthew recognised one of the auditors, but with curiosity satisfied, we made our way to the Brighton Beer Dispensary.

The pub is located roughly two thirds of the way up a steep side-street, in the middle of a row of terraced houses.. Formerly known as the Prince Arthur, the Brighton Beer Dispensary  is a joint venture between Brighton Bier and the Southey Brewing Company, who are based in South London outfit. The main bar, with its exposed brickwork, is at the front of the pub, whilst at the rear is a small conservatory area with seating.

It was there that we sat after selecting and purchasing our drinks. I hadn’t come across Southey Brewing before, but given the proliferation of new breweries in recent years, this is hardly surprising. I opted for the 3.8% Southey Pale, which was refreshing and quite drinkable. Matthew’s choice of the keg Pilsner looked rather strange, as it was hazy, bordering on murky (London murky?). He said it tasted alright, but when I tried it, it was unsurprisingly very yeasty.

It was pleasant sitting out in the conservatory, but I had one eye on the time. We wanted to take the Eastbourne route home, so after noting there was a train departing at 6pm, we made our way back to the station. The train was busy with homeward bound commuters, and students, although most of the latter group alighted at Falmer, adjacent to Sussex University and, for the football fans out there, the Amex Stadium.

The majority of the commuters got off either at Lewes or Eastbourne, and we then had most of the carriage to ourselves. North of Eastbourne the line hugs the coast, as it passes through Pevensey and Norman’s Bay. We left the train at St Leonard’s Warrior Square, and after swapping platforms, waited for train up from Hastings, which would take us back to Tonbridge.

It  had been a good day out, and for me it was especially good to re-visit Brighton after all those years. We barely scratched the surface, beer-wise, so a further visit would be a good idea. Using my Senior Railcard, the return rail fare was a very reasonable £10.90. It is two and half times that amount, should you choose to travel via London, but then, why would you?

Brighton has much to offer besides good beer and good pubs, with a real sense of joie de vie to accompany its free spirit, and general quirkiness. It's therefore, not surprising that the town, very sensibly, voted Remain, by a large margin, in that divisive and totally unnecessary, “advisory”referendum. 

 

Brighton - yesterday and today*

It must be 30 years or so since I last had a beer in Brighton, and if I recall the occasion correctly, it would have been in Hove (actually!). Back then Brighton’s neighbouring town was home to a contract pharmaceutical manufacturer who produced the bulk of the vitamin and mineral tablets sold by the Tunbridge Wells-based, nutritional supplements company I worked for at the time.

I was in charge of quality control and regulatory affairs (not much change there then!), but was also responsible for formulating new products. Because of the need for close cooperation with this key supplier, I was a fairly regular visitor to their premises, on the edge of  Hove.

My contact there was a man after my own heart in so much that he enjoyed a pint or two of decent ale. Normally after the business part of our meeting was concluded, but sometimes before, he would treat me to a spot of lunch at a rather nice pub, called Hove Place. The pub is still trading, although it seems to have undergone at least one make-over since my last visit, which would have been some time in the very late 1980’s.

So far as Brighton itself is concerned I visited several of the Great British Beer Festivals, which were held in the town, round about the same time as my aforementioned business meetings. There were four such events, and I definitely remember attending at least two of them.

Prior to that, drinking in Brighton was confined to a couple of pub crawls that I help organise, on behalf of my local West Kent CAMRA branch. Three pubs from those two crawls seem to stick in my mind; all were close to the station, and all are still trading today. This trio of pubs is the Lord Nelson (Harvey’s), Basketmaker’s Arms (now Fuller’s, but back then a Gale’s tied house), and the Evening Star (Dark Star now, but a free-house in the late ‘80’s).

Fast forward to 2019, which saw son Matthew and I taking the day off work and the train down to Brighton. For the outward journey we travelled via Redhill and Gatwick, due to trains on the alternative route, via St Leonard’s, being delayed. We couldn’t have picked a better day, weather-wise, being blessed with blue skies and wall-to-wall sunshine.

After leaving the station, we headed down along Queen’s Road, in the direction of the seafront. In my rush to finish stuff off at work, the previous day, I had forgotten to download and print off a map of the town, but had an inkling there would be a tourist information office somewhere along the front, and I’d be able to pick one up there.

My family take great delight in making fun of me making a beeline for the tourist information office, every time we visit somewhere new; particularly when it’s abroad, but then are quite happy to rely on me to guide them to places of interest (mainly shops in Mrs PBT’s case). Son Matthew was content to do the same, and as luck would have it, we stumbled upon Brighton Town Hall, where the nice lady in reception handed me a free map of the town. If only things had been that easy in Guangzhou!

Now I had done a spot of planning beforehand, even if it was just looking up Brighton’s GBG entries using the Good Beer Guide App on my phone. The App threw up  just two pubs  in the town centre, despite me thinking there should be more than that, but the Brighton Bierhaus and the Brighton Beer Dispensary both looked worthy of a visit. 

It wasn’t too far to the first pub, and a quick stroll through Brighton’s famous Lanes, which were looking as colourful and diverse as ever, brought us within sight of the town’s equally famous Royal Pavilion. From there it was a short uphill climb to the Brighton Bierhaus which, with its doors all open, looked bright, breezy and welcoming.

The welcome extended to inside as well and with six hand-pumps and 12 keg lines, dispensing Brighton Bier’s own brews, alongside a number of guest ales, there was something to please everyone. After ordering our beer we sat one of the high “posing tables,” close to the window. Matthew plumped for a pint of Rothaus Pilsner, from the Black Forest, whilst I selected a very drinkable pint of South Coast IPA (3.5 NBSS), from Brighton Bier.

The Brighton Bierhaus opened in its current guise in April 2017, having previously been known as the Jury's Out – a reflection of the pub’s proximity to the local law courts. There were a handful of drinkers in, but not as many as one might expect for a Thursday lunchtime. This might possibly be due to the pub not serving food; well not it’s own food. Customers are able to order a pizza through the pub, which is sourced and delivered from a local pizza company.

We decided to stay for a second pint, with Matthew sticking to the Rothaus, whist I opted for another for Brighton Bier, in the form of the 4.0% Summit Elevation Pale Ale. This was nowhere near as good as my first choice, although I did score it at a rather generous 2.0 NBSS.

It was getting towards the bottom of then cask, but was not quite bad enough to send back, or look for a convenient plant pot to ditch it in, but it was definitely a disappointment. I can’t help thinking that with six cask and a dozen keg-lines, there might just be a little too much choice available, even for a diverse town like Brighton.

We will leave things there until next time, when we'll take a look at Brighton's other GBG-listed pub.

*Yesterday & Today.

Time of the Season*

It dawned on me last week that we’re almost halfway through the year, and just three weeks away from the summer solstice. What struck me even more was that, apart from a couple of weekends away (Norwich and Ross-on-Wye), I haven’t yet had a holiday this year.

But you’ve only recently returned from a trip to China, I hear you say, and furthermore, you spent a week in Cologne, back in March. These observations are true, but in my defence, both trips were for business rather than for pleasure, and whilst there was a little free time in Germany and China, the main purpose of these trips was representing my company abroad, rather than being in those locations purely for my own pleasure.

I’m still waiting for Mrs PBT’s to decide on the cruise we’ve talked about these past couple of years, and I’ve tentatively pencilled in August. However, as I’m sure most of you are aware, when you are working you have to choose your leave so as not to clash with other people. Also, when you’re head of department, you have to ensure adequate cover for periods when your own staff are on holiday.

That’s all been taken care of, but son Matthew has to book his annual leave much further in advance. He has been off this week and, as he reminded me earlier, him and I were supposed to be going to Poland in order to attend the Wroclaw Beer Festival.

I got a little sidetracked with that one, especially with all the planning for my trip to China, but I still felt a little guilty that he’d taken a week off, at my suggestion, only for me to have done nothing to facilitate our short break to Poland.

I don’t think he was over enamoured with Wroclaw as a destination anyway, but by way of compensation I said we could have a day at the coast instead. We chose Brighton. I hadn’t set foot in the city for the best part of 30 years, and whilst Matthew has been there with his mother rather more recently, Brighton seemed a good place to visit for the sea air, fish and chips, plus the odd pub or three.

The town is also reasonably easy to get to by public transport, but not as easy as it was, back in the sixties, when there were direct trains between Tonbridge and Brighton. That all ceased with the severance of the line at Uckfield followed, nearly 20 years later, by the closure of the line between Tunbridge Wells and Eridge.

I didn’t want to drive, for obvious reasons, which left the  option of the fast  buses operated by Brighton and Hove Transport, between Tunbridge Wells and Brighton. In the end though, we decided to travel cross country, by train, with the choice of either the route via Redhill or, the seaside option via St Leonard’s. In the end, we travelled out by the former route, and returned via the latter, but that’s another story.

I had another reason for wanting to spend some time with my son, and that was to give him a little moral support. In a nutshell he’s had a spot of girlfriend trouble, and also feels that he’s been passed over a couple of times, for promotion at work.

In the past we’ve gone away to favourite beery cities such as Munich or Prague, but  as I said earlier my mind has been on other things; including trying to "Brexit-proof" our business. There’s also Mrs PBT’s to consider. Last year’s close brush with death has left her still unable to walk very far, and also knocked her confidence as well, so whilst she’s perfectly able to get a taxi if she wants to pop into the town, I’m still reluctant to leave her on her own without either Matthew or I being present to drive her around.

So Brighton it was and on a bright and sunny Thursday morning, we set off by train for the seaside. I’ll recount what we got up to, and what we saw, in the next post, but suffice to say we had what Wallace & Gromit would call “A Grand Day Out.” 

* Time of the Season.

Last day in Guangzhou

I began my final day in Guangzhou by joining my Japanese colleagues for breakfast. Fried eggs were back on the menu and the problem with the toaster had been fixed, which meant that all was well with the world.

My colleagues were due to fly back to Japan in the afternoon, whilst my flight was not until the early hours of the following morning. This actually meant me getting to the airport at around 10pm. My companions would be leaving to catch their flight at around 2pm, so asked if I would like to joint them for some more sight-seeing and some shopping.

I accepted their offer gladly, as  they had been  good company. I also had some shopping of my own to do, not least of which was a traditional paper parasol for Mrs PBT’s. I’d spent some time looking during my first day in China, but to no avail. By embracing all things western,  Chinese youth seem in an awful hurry to discard the traditions of their past, and this lack of respect for tradition applies equally to those old enough to know better.

I’d asked our contact at the factory we visited the previous day, but he seemed rather bemused by my request. The Japanese were more in tune with my quest, and did say that if all else failed I would almost certainly be able to pick up a parasol on my next visit to Kyoto. They laughed when I asked if whether they were issuing a formal invite, but a return trip to Japan features high on my list of things to do before I finish in my current position.

I arranged to meet my colleagues in reception at 9.45am. As they were travelling light, they would be checking out and taking their small trolley-style cases with them. That way they could head off straight to the airport, once the mornings’ activities were complete.

I on the other hand had booked an extra half-day, allowing me the use of my room until 6pm. This was a good piece of advice that I’d been given by our overseas salesman; a well-seasoned traveller if ever there was one! I did find though that although I’d made the request the night before, the receptionist on duty that evening had not passed on the instruction, which led to a little confusion.

So returning to the narrative, we set off to visit what is probably Guangzhou’s best known shopping district; an area known as Beijing Road. This was somewhere I had visited on my first day in the city, but as I’d only really touched on the place I was  quite happy to return there.

Beijing Road is a pedestrianised shopping precinct set at right angles to the main north-south axis. There are numerous branches leading off from it, including an underground complex of small boutiques, adjacent to the metro station. Walking along the pedestrianised section it is possible to see the remains of the city walls, which date back to the period of the Ming dynasty.

I didn’t have any luck with my search for a paper parasol, but I did manage to buy myself a couple of T-shirts. Finding examples in my size though wasn’t easy because there seemed to be very few fat people in the city and therefore size XXL wasn’t readily available.

I persevered and found a store which did stock my size, but now here comes a further observation. Unlike many other global cities there were no stores selling what I would call the usual “tourist tat.” So no t-shirts, sweat shirts, baseball caps, badges etc advertising Guangzhou as a destination, so no souvenirs of my visit to take home and wear whilst parading up and down Tonbridge High Street.

My Japanese colleagues found a store which they liked; rather like Super Dry it was a fake Japanese brand with no stores in that country, but selling the type of stuff  which appealed to Japanese people. Apart from the novelty value the store had very appeal to me, which is why I’m struggling to remember its name. Looking on-line it may have been MINISO, メイソウ.

This would make sense as MINISO has its headquarters in Guangzhou. My companions enjoyed looking around the store, and a couple of them bought a selection of novelties, and other goodies for family back in Japan.

After the shopping was concluded, it was back on the metro and a few more stops to Huangsha, and an area of the city that one of our party was keen to see. This gentleman was the same character whose enthusiasm for tall buildings had taken us to the Canton Tower the previous evening. I nicknamed him the “travel guide,” and whilst his fellow countrymen were rather bemused at his keenness to explore new places, I was really grateful when I realised where he was taking us.

Shamian Island is an area of Guangzhou, which was granted as two "concessions" to Britain and France by the Chinese government, in the 19th century. It is an  artificial island, bordered in the south by the Pearl River, and separated from the mainland by a canal. It formed an important port for Guangzhou's foreign trade, and was an area where foreigners lived and did business, in a row of houses known as the "Thirteen Factories."

Today the area serves as a tranquil reminder of the colonial European period, with quiet pedestrian avenues flanked by trees and lined by historical buildings in various states of upkeep. It is the location of several hotels, restaurants and tourist shops – although I must have missed the latter.

It formed a perfect contrast after the roar of the traffic outside Huangsha Station, and the myriad of high-rise buildings either side of a busy arterial road, but unfortunately there wasn’t enough time for a proper look round. It’s often the way that you find the best places on the final day of a stay, but my colleagues had to be at the airport for a 2pm check in. and in addition were looking to have a spot of lunch.  

Regrettably we retraced our footsteps back across the pedestrian over-pass to the shopping area around the station. I allowed my companions to choose the restaurant, although I emphasised that I just wanted something light to eat. We found a modern-looking establishment which, whilst busy, was able to accommodate the four of us, plus suitcases.

Each of us selected a bowl of soup, with noodles. Mine contained some finely shredded beef and reminded me somewhat of minestrone soup. The waitress took pity on me after watching me struggling to twist the spaghetti-like noodles onto my chop-sticks, and very kindly brought me a plastic fork. It wasn’t exactly the “light” meal I’d been after, but was enjoyable nevertheless. Beer didn’t appear to feature on the menu, so I had to make do with a refreshing glass of iced lemon tea.

I picked up the tab, prior to leaving, a gesture which my colleagues appreciated. I told them it was the least I could do, as they had been good company and fun to be with. Furthermore our audit and subsequent business discussions had proved successful, which was just as well in view of the distance I had travelled in order to be there.

We took the metro back into central Guangzhou. I alighted at the main station, whilst they continued on towards the airport. We parted with much shaking of hands and best wishes for safe onward travel. I returned to the hotel to complete my packing and kill some time, before checking out and heading off to the airport myself.