Bath time - complete and unabridged version

I finally made it to Bath last Friday, having been thwarted three weeks previously by named storm Eunice. It was almost four decades since I was last in the city, which is obviously far too long, and despite the heavy rain that greeted my arrival, it was good to be back and renew my acquaintance with this lovely old spa town.

I journeyed by rail, from Tonbridge, via Charing Cross and Paddington. Arriving at the latter and admiring Brunel’s magnificent glass-roofed train-shed, was a reminder that the station was another place I hadn’t visited for many years either. My Advanced Ticket stipulated travel on the 10.32, but as I stood eyeing up the departure board, flat white in hand, it became evident that this service would not be leaving on time. 

Fortunately, the delay which was due to “operational difficulties,” was only 10 minutes, and as soon as the platform was announced, I joined the scrum rushing to secure a seat on the train. I had a seat reservation, although it was unclear from both the ticket, or the ridiculous pictogram, just below the luggage rack, whether seat 76 was a window or an aisle one. I decided it was the former and settled down to enjoy the journey 

Reading was soon reached, as was Swindon, and as the train headed towards the next stop (Chippenham), I noticed that the rain, that had been forecast, had indeed arrived. It had been sunny when I’d left home, a couple of hours earlier, but rain it was and as we headed further west, I realised it was probably in for the day. 

The train arrived at Bath, only five minutes behind schedule, and after
donning my hat, and zipping up me coat, I headed off, down into the city, heading for my first port of call. I was due to meet up with a select few members of the Beer & Pub Forum, and the pub I was heading for was actually the second one on the itinerary. The early birds of the group  started off at the Crystal Palace, one of several Fuller’s pubs in the city, but the timings were such that I would join the others at the Coeur de Lion.

This, little gem, is tucked-away down a narrow side street, close to the abbey, and is the only pub in Bath that I remember from previous visits to the city. The Coeur was a Devenish house back then – a lone outpost for this regional brewery, based in Weymouth. Unfortunately, the company got into financial difficulties in the mid 1980’s and after a succession of owners, closed 10 years later. Today, the pub is owned by Abbey Ales, a local brewery based in Bath, and a local success story, as today the company owns four pubs in the city, including a couple of real classics.

I found the Coeur without too much trouble, but after stepping inside from the rain, and looking around, I could see no sign of the people I was supposed to be meeting up with.  I was conscious of the fact that I didn’t have anyone’s phone number – slightly surprising as I thought I had Martin’s. I did have the Tapatalk app on my phone, as this is an application that seems to be favoured by the Beer & Pub’s Forum. I’d tried connecting with the app whilst on the train but needed a password to access my account. The password, of course, was in a book, back home, which just goes to prove that such things really are the bane of modern life.

 

Returning to the Coeur de Lion, I noticed a sign in the corner that pointed to an upstairs room, so after climbing the steep and rather narrow stairs, I was relieved to discover Martin, Frome Jon and Oxford Nick sat around a small corner table, tucked away in the corner. There was no bar upstairs, so Martin very kindly nipped back down to get me a swift half of Bath Ales Best Bitter. Shortly after, he had to repeat the exercise for Mick aka “Citra,” who arrived about 5 minutes later. It was a shame in some respects that the Coeur had been so crowded, as I was unable to take any interior photos, and for my part, it would have been good to stay for another; this visit to Bath being the first time, I’d tried Abbey Ales. The food also looked good, although straight after arriving in the city, was a little early to be tucking into a full-blown meal – more about that later!

However, with all five members of the party now assembled, it was time to move on, and the pub we were heading to was an absolute corker. First licensed in 1760, the Star Inn retains many of its original features, including 18^th Century bar fittings and wooden benches. There are four small rooms, with bench seating around the walls, wood panelling and open fires. The smallest room has a single bench, usually occupied by the pub's older customers

The Star remains a classic example of a multi-roomed English public house, that is virtually untouched by time. The pub is featured on CAMRA’s National Inventory of historic pub interiors, and is famous for its Draught Bass, served direct from the cask, and poured from a jug. As we walked in and made our way to the room at the far left, the pub certainly didn’t disappoint. 

Given the Star’s reputation for Bass, it seemed rude not to give it a try, and ordering by the jug, seemed the way to go. The option was either three- or four-pint servings, so three of us opted for a three pinta. I remain unconvinced that drawing the beer off into a jug, and then poring it into the customer’s glass, makes any difference at all, but as Martin remarked, it is a nice piece of theatre.  In over 40 years of drinking, I can only think of one other pub that used this practice, and that was the Ram's Head (Owd Tupps) at Denshaw; a 450-year-old inn, high on the moors above Oldham and Rochdale.

Back in the 1970's, the pub stocked Younger's XXPS Scotch Bitter, direct from casks kept behind the bar. In order to achieve the thick creamy head beloved by northern drinkers, the bar staff would draw some off some beer first into a large enamel jug, and then pour it from a height of around 10"-12" into the customer's glass. XXPS has long since been discontinued, and looking at the Ram’s Head website, the pub is now a rather upmarket “gastro-pub.” The cask beers today are now served by traditional hand-pump, rather than the time-honoured way that is still retained by the Star.

Two three-pint jugs of Bass, between five people, worked out at just over two pints each. Other beers were available, including Bell Ringer & White Friar from Abbey Ales, Dark Star Hophead, and Wye Valley Butty Bach. Most of us stuck with the Bass, although Mick gave the Butty Bach a try. I was getting peckish by this time, and in need of something to soak up the beers, I grabbed a cheese and onion bap, just to keep me going, little thinking that would be the only solid food (apart from a packet of Pipers Crisps) to pass my lips.

It was time to move on, but I was really glad we called in at the Star, to enjoy and appreciate a bit of our fast-vanishing pub heritage, as well as the chance of crossing another National Inventory pub off the list. It wasn’t far to the next pub, and as an added bonus, the rain had eased off as well. The Bell which, although different to the Star, still proved to be a real cracker. I thought I had carried out my research for the Bath trip quite thoroughly, but it wasn’t until just now, when I logged on to the pubs’ website, that I realised this was the famous music pub, purchased in 2013 by around 500 of its customers, fans and workers, and run as a cooperative. 

It is also the pub with the black & white photo of some of these owners, leaning out the windows, along with a group of musicians posing with their instruments, on top of the flat roof extension, to the left of the main building. Free live music sessions are held at the Bell, three or four times a week, and because of this, the pub gets endorsements from no lesser luminaries than Robert Plant and Peter Gabriel.I really must pay better attention next time, as even more of a lapse in research was the presence of a pizzeria in the garden, offering freshly made pizza. NOBODY mentioned this, even though I am sure the subject of food had been raised. Paul was hungry, and a nice helping of freshly made, sourdough pizza, at that stage of proceedings, would have been gratefully appreciated!

The beer offering WAS much more obvious, and with the Bell offering seven different cask ales, no-one was likely to be disappointed. I particularly enjoyed a fine pint of Nine Lives Porter from Parkway Brewing Co. The internal layout of the Bell consists of a lengthy, single bar at the front, with a raised area, which acts as the stage, at one end. There is also a small Back Bar, used mainly for practice and open-mike, music sessions.

We stayed in the Bell until just after 4pm, as that was the time the next
pub opened. Just a short walk away, the Brewed Boy is a crafty paradise, serving up to 10 craft beers on Key keg, plus a large assortment of bottled and canned beers. The place looked like it might have been a shop in a previous life, and with both space and seating at a premium, we were lucky to get a seat and a table.

It was pleasant and bright inside and as Frome Jon knew the owner/proprietor, that helped things along. I had a rather nice Milk Chocolate Stout, from Imaginary Friends – who thinks up the names for these breweries? A few of us then helped Martin finish a can of Blueberry Weisse from Pastore – a mixed-fermentation sour and wild brewery based in his former home village of Waterbeach. This quite challenging beer is a Berliner Weiss style of beer, and if you have ever tasted one of those you will know how sour they are!

We headed back into the city centre after, I was looking for a pub that served food, although some of the others were considering the Old Green Tree. Again, I hadn’t done my homework properly, as if I had, I’d have know the latter was another CAMRA National Inventory pub. I missed out there, and so did my companions, so apologies to all for allowing my stomach to dictate the choice of pub.

We ended up at the Raven, a pub recommended by Mrs PBT’s niece. It was a nice place, but rather crowded. It was Friday evening though, and given the large student population of Bath, not entirely surprising. We managed to bag a table, but with a 20-minute wait for food I began to doubt I’d have time to eat a meal, and then find my way back to station. It wasn’t quite the ending I had in mind, but there is a strange relationship between beer and time whereby the later seems to speed up, as consumption of the former increases.

Although I had a rough idea of the direction to head in, I wasn’t 100% sure of the way. I was booked on a train with a specific departure time, so I didn’t want to miss it, so reluctantly I said a hurried farewell to my companions and headed off in the general direction of the station. It was dark outside, which made it difficult to read the map, and I had to stop and ask a few people, along the way. I dived into a Sainsbury’s Local and picked up their £3.50 Meal Deal, which I just had time to eat on the platform, before the London train pulled in.

I bumped into Martin briefly, at the station. He was heading in the opposite direction, back to his overnight accommodation in Bristol, no doubt in readiness for some more GBG ticking the following day. It has been good to catch up with him again, and also to meet the “southern contingent” of the Beer & Pubs Forum. It had been good too, renewing my acquaintance with Bath after a gap of nearly 40 years. I won’t leave it so long next time!

 

That was the year that was - 2015

2015 was one hell of a year, packed with some amazing travel and beer-related experiences; in fact, I would say that for a number of reasons, it was the best year ever. It was a year in which I crammed in more trips abroad than any years previously, or indeed since. Looking back, I’m not quite sure how I manged it, but everything just fell into place, in a way that has since proved hard to mimic, so what exactly happened and where did I go?

Where to start though? And where better than Prague, capital of the Czech Republic, and a city I have visited half a dozen times. Two of those visits took place in 2015, and both were as preludes to spending time in other locations within the country. 

The first visit took place that May and was only a couple of days in length. Prague was the rendezvous for the tour group from Maidstone CAMRA I was joining, before heading off to the city of Jihlava, which was to be our base for the next four days. Situated in almost the exact geographical centre of the Czech Republic, Jihlava, which is well away from the tourist hot spots of Prague and Pilsen, proved to be the ideal place for exploring this lesser-known part of the country.

Unfortunately, the hot and dry weather I enjoyed in Prague, was replaced by wet, windy, and decidedly cool conditions by the time we arrived in Jihlava, but on the basis that there is no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing, I had a real good time in both locations. Highlights of Prague were the morning I spent exploring the area around Prague Castle and St Vitus’s Cathedral, an al fresco lunch at Klášterni pinovar Matŭska, before heading back down towards the Charles Bridge and the old town area of Staré Mésto. Although serious tourist territory, I managed a visit, to U Tři Růži; which at the time was one of Prague’s newest brew-pubs. I also made the obligatory visit to  U Fleků, Prague’s original brewpub, which claims to be the oldest brewpub in the world.

 Our stay in Jihlava, included a tour of the Bernard Brewery in Humpolec, a cultural day, visiting the well-preserved towns of Slavonice and Telč, plus a visit to the Chotebor Pivovar microbrewery,  and the Rebel brewpub in Havlickuv Brod. Special mention should be made of the bus ride back from Telč to Jihlava, which took us through some of the most pleasing countryside I have ever seen. I can still picture the rolling hills, dark forests and stretches of verdant green pasture, that make up the region, and the numerous fishponds which dot the landscape. The winding country roads we travelled along, lined by blossom-laden apple trees, completed the picture, and not for the first time, that year, I said to myself, “Life doesn’t get much better than this!”

Sticking with Prague, my second visit of 2015 to the Czech capital, took place in the autumn of that year, in October to be precise. As with the first visit, I used Prague as a staging post, and a prelude to a visit elsewhere in the country. Given the relatively small size of Czechia, flying into Václav Havel airport in Prague makes perfect sense and, as on the previous occasion, it allowed me to spend some time in this most beautiful of central European cities. This time around, I also had son Matthew for company.

Basically, our trip was a tale of two contrasting halves; spending four nights in the big city atmosphere of Prague, followed by four nights in the delightful preserved medieval town of Český Krumlov. The latter wasn’t without its share of tourists; in fact the town is now the second most popular destination for foreign visitors to the Czech Republic. Český Krumlov is people sized though, and easily seen in a day, but for me it was the perfect place to relax and enjoy a few beers - after taking in some of the impressive sights of this beautiful medieval town. It was also a town that had been on my bucket list, for more years than I care to remember.

Our time in Prague was spent visiting a variety of different brewpubs, most of which were new to us. We stayed at the same hotel that I had used back in May, although this time around, the room overlooked the street at the side, rather than the rail tracks at the rear. We also took a trip out, by train, to the Škoda car works in the town of  Mladá Boleslav, where we had a conducted tour of the factory. The weather was also disappointing, with rain at times, although by the time we reached Český Krumlov, it was characterised by sunny days, but increasingly cold nights. Autumn was definitely a week or two ahead of the UK, with some spectacular seasonal colours from the trees.

Český Krumlov certainly didn’t disappoint, and still lived up to the description given by beer enthusiast, and CAMRA founding member, Graham Lees, in his Guide to Prague & the Czech Republic. Writing in 1996, Lees described this small, southern Bohemian town as a "Time-warped, medieval beauty, built in a tight loop of the Vltava river". He went on to say that "It's as though some witch had cast a Sleeping Beauty-like spell over the entire edifice. But the spell is now wearing off, and the more tourists who "discover" it, the more it will change".

Many tourists had of course, "discovered" it during the 20 years since those words were written and the visit, in 2015, by Matthew and me. I wrote at the time that Cesky Krumlov is still well worth seeing. It's massive castle, overlooking the river, is the second largest in the country, after Prague, and the old town is still a maze of twisting, narrow streets, virtually unchanged since medieval times. There were hordes of mainly Chinese tourists, complete with their selfie-sticks, but they tended to gravitate around the castle and the old town square, and were thus easily avoided.  

At the end of August, I found myself in Brussels for the European Beer Bloggers Conference. Now despite its reputation for fine beer and equally fine chocolate, Brussels has never been my favourite city, but over the course of that visit, which happened to be my fourth, I did start to warm to the place more. I found that the city centre is surprisingly compact, and as well as visiting some new bars, along with a few old favourites, I discovered a lot more about Belgian beer and the nation’s brewing culture.

Some of that was the result of the conference itself, but I learned much more after the event, when I joined the post conference trip around West Flanders. This was a relaxed, two-day tour around the province, and included several memorable highlights. One occurred at the In de Vrede café, attached to the Monastery of St Sixtus, just outside Westvleteren. This abbey is the home of the most secretive monastic order, who are also the brewers of Westvleteren 12°, described by Rate Beer, as the best beer in the world.

Sitting outside, with my fellow conference delegates, most of whom were affable and typically outgoing Americans, soaking up the late August sunshine and Westvleteren beer in equal measures, I had another of those “Life doesn’t get much better than this,” moments. The superlatives didn’t finish there, as that evening, we enjoyed a private tour around the Rodenbach brewery, home to the world-renowned Flemish Sour Red Ales. We ended the day with an overnight stopover in Bruges, staying at a luxurious four-star hotel, just off the city centre.

I was too tired, and rather too refreshed to hit the town that night, but the following day, we were treated to a guided walking tour of Bruges, which was both interesting and a real eye opener. As if that wasn’t enough, we enjoyed an excellent lunch at the city’s De Halve Maan brewery. On way, passed through the Beguinage – a sanctuary, which offered a home to single or widowed women who wanted to live in a pious way but outside the walls of a convent or monastery. Of particular interest to fans of prog-rockers Yes, the Beguinage was the location where the promotional film for the track, Everydays was shot. Written by Stephen Stills and featured on "Time and a Word," the group’s second album, the tranquillity and calm and tranquillity of the surroundings, certainly does both the song, and the film itself, justice. Check it out below, to get the feel of the place, and you will see what I mean.

The year finished with a short family trip to Salzburg, Austria – a visit that allowed us to experience the magic of the city’s Christmas Market, whilst allowing a couple of visits to the Bräustübl at Augustinerbräu Kloster Mülln. Not only is this tavern the largest in Austria, it is also one of the finest and most traditional beer halls anywhere in the world! We arrived shortly after the 3pm opening time, and as we descended the steps from the entrance to the corridor where the food kiosks are situated, everything came flooding back, including the most important part - the ritual necessary to obtain a beer.

Just round the corner from the end of the corridor, there is a serving area, where you help yourself to a stoneware mug (litre or half litre). You then rinse it at the ornate marble fountain before queuing up and paying the person sitting behind a glass screen. You are then given a ticket, which you hand to the man dispensing the beer, in exchange for him filling your mug with beer, from one of the large wooden casks. You then wander off and find a seat in which ever of the three large, cavernous beer halls that takes your fancy, and get stuck into the beer.

The beer, which is a full-bodied lager, known as Märzen with an ABV of 4.6%, is brewed all year round, whilst from November through to Christmas a stronger Weinachtsbock (Christmas Bock) at 6.5% ABV is produced. This beer was unavailable during my two previous visits, but it was on this occasion, so I just had to try a mug full. It was everything I expected and more, being rich, malty, and strong enough to taste the alcohol. During the hour or so we were there, the hall had really begun to fill up; such is the popularity of the Augustinerbräu Bräustübl.

The absolute highlight of 2015, started with a visit to the Franconian Beer Festival - held in the incomparable setting of the castle moat of Nuremberg’s massive and imposing Imperial Castle. Fränkisches Bierfest, as it is known locally, showcases beers from around 40 of Franconia’s finest breweries, and in this respect is more like an English beer festival, than events such as Munich’s world-famous Oktoberfest, and the lesser known Cannstatter Volksfest which takes place in Stuttgart.  

I was fortunate to have local beer enthusiast, Erlangernick, as my guide, and in his company, I sampled beers from some of the 38 breweries exhibiting at the festival. These included various Helles, Vollbiers, Landbiers, Kellerbiers, plus the odd Dunkles and Pils. All were good; with some served direct from wooden casks. 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 encouraging was the number of female visitors, to the festival.

The following day, on one of the hottest days of the year, I met up with Nick at Roppelt’s Keller, to the north-west of Forchheim. He had borrowed his wife’s car, and his proposal was to drive us both around a few Kellers in the area. There were a couple he wanted to check out, which were well off the beaten track, and he thought I would like to visit them as well. Being chauffeured around some of the region’s best Bier Kellers, by someone with good local knowledge of them was a chance too good to miss, so after finishing my beer, we set off in his car to do just that!

Driving through the unspoilt countryside of the Steigerwald, in an open-top car, in search of good local beer, and with some vintage Yes playing on the car stereo, made me think, once again that  “Life doesn’t get much better than this.” Our first port of call was the tiny village of Aisch, where we sat out in the small shady beer garden opposite the Rittmayer Brauerei & Gasthaus. It was here that I tried Spargel (white Asparagus), for the first time.

We then visited two Kellers, both perched up on hills overlooking some really attractive rolling countryside. Herrmann Kellerbier from Ampferbach, and Müller Kellerbier from Reundorf, were the beery delights at these two stops; the latter beer being enjoyed in the grounds of the substantial Schmausenkeller, high on a hill.  It was a wonderful day out and my grateful thanks are due to Nick for acting as my guide and chauffeur.

It is no exaggeration to say that this brief snapshot, of some of Franconia’s best beer and drinking establishments, was not only the highpoint of 2015, but also remains as one of my all-time best beer experiences. It was the perfect combination of good company, fine weather, splendid scenery, and some wonderfully rustic places in which to enjoy some truly excellent beer. This then, is the perfect spot to finish my round-up of 2015’s “Year in Beer.”

Getting back in the groove

After an almost unprecedented gap of over a week, I thought I had better post something, just to let people know I am still here, haven’t signed the pledge or joined the Foreign Legion. As might have been guessed from my last post, I’ve been feeling rather sad and depressed over recent events in the world, and whilst I’m well aware that “shit happens,” this current “unpleasantness” in Ukraine is just what we don’t need – especially coming hot on the heels of Covid.

I’ve been keeping myself busy on various house and garden projects, including the ongoing revamp of the greenhouse, and the installation of spur to repair a damaged rotten fence post. All pretty mundane, but thanks to Storm Eunice, and probably several preceding storms as well, the repair was both necessary and essential to prevent further damage.

On the plus side, and it is a huge plus, I enjoyed an excellent day out in Bath on Friday, just gone, renewing my acquaintance with the city and a few of its pubs. Thirty-plus years is far too long a gap to leave when visiting a place which not only has some beautiful buildings, but also some amazing pubs.

You can read all about my trip once I have finished writing it up, but spoiler alert, I haven’t even downloaded the photos off my phone, let alone started typing up the article. There is however, a quite lengthy article that is virtually complete, and it’s one I wrote primarily to cheer myself up during this rather depressing time.

There has also been the small matter of a cruise to re-arrange, although it has to be said that our scheduled 16-night voyage around the Baltic had been cancelled sometime before Putin’s tanks rolled across the Ukrainian border. This was because Queen Victoria, the vessel we were due to sail on, was spending longer in the Bahamas, due to the availability of a suitable dry-dock.

We had toyed with the possibility of a different Baltic cruise at a slightly later date, again taking in St Petersburg, but as that was obviously not going to happen, opted for the Norwegian fjords instead. Far enough away from the Russian Bear, although close enough if the map you look at, extends up beyond the Arctic Circle!

Back on the home front, I splashed out on a case of 48 cans of “Craft Beer” from Flavourly. They’ve been pestering me regularly, ever since ordering a few cases during the first lock-down, so having the choice of something novel and interesting to enjoy with my evening meal, or to drink whilst I type away on the keyboards, broke down my resistance.

DPD chose the only day of the week when Mrs PBT’s works away from home, to deliver my case, which meant I had to pick I up from a local shop. This wasn’t a problem, apart from the weight, so much so that the chap behind the counter of our local Londis, asked me if the box contained bricks!

All joking side it should satisfy my beer wants for several weeks to come, whilst doing my bit to help small breweries. “What about the pubs, though?” I hear you say, well I am doing my best on the days off from work that aren’t purloined by Mrs PBT’s, for visiting family, or other non-beer and pub-related expeditions!

I do have to say though, that although I have drunk some pretty amazing beers over recent weeks at home, it is not the same as drinking something slightly less unique, but equally tasty in a local pub. With this in mind, I headed out this afternoon for a brisk walk, designed to blow the cobwebs away, followed by a brief visit to my nearest pub.

The pub in question was the Vauxhall Inn, a Chef & Brewer establishment, adjacent to one of two Premier Inns in Tonbridge. I am happy to report that I was pleasantly surprised, and what I found dispelled all my pre-conceptions. Full report to following due course!

What on earth is going on?

I’ve been somewhat lacking in inspiration this week, which given the events in Ukraine over the past 10 days, is not really surprising. In their regular weekly round-up, veteran bloggers, Boak & Bailey, said pretty much the same thing, stating that, “It feels like a strange time to be thinking about beer with the Russian invasion of Ukraine still underway.” It certainly does, and it’s almost as if by allowing a despot and a tyrant to flourish in Russia, we have failed to learn the lessons of history.  

As a person who was born just 10 years after the end of the most devastating and cataclysmic war the world had ever seen, recent events are not only deeply disturbing, but they are also of major concern. I was seven years old when the United States and the Soviet Union faced each other in a tense stand-off over missiles, equipped with nuclear warheads, stationed in Cuba – just 90 miles from the coast of Florida. I was too young of course, to know what was going on, but I’m sure it must have been a worrying time for my parents, along with the rest of the world.

We now have a situation where the paranoia of one increasingly isolated and unstable man, is allowing the totally unwarranted attack and full-scale invasion of a neighbouring state. A country which has no quarrel with Russia, and one which poses no threat to it either. Instead, Ukraine is facing death and destruction on a scale not seen in Europe since the Second World War, and all because of the insecurity and gross miscalculations of one man.

How on earth did we come to this, especially following hot on the heels of Covid? Hasn’t the world suffered enough Mr Putin, without you inflicting yet more misery on the planet? Fortunately, Putin’s crazed aggression has been met with a concerted, and almost unprecedented show of unity by the rest of the world, with even China – the Kremlin's new-found ally, holding back any support for Russia.

Feeling the need to do our bit, and show solidarity with the people of Ukraine, Mrs PBT’s and I, joined the “Stand in Unison with Ukraine” event, held at Tonbridge Castle. On a cold and damp March midday, we stood in a circle, with a hundred or so fellow Tonbridge residents, listening to stories from people forced to flee their homes, and from others with loved ones, still trapped in Ukraine and desperately worried about their safety.

A small effort perhaps, and some might say a token one, but for those attending it was important, and it meant something. I don’t know where we go from here, apart from saying that as someone who grew up during a time when memories of the previous devastating conflict were still fresh in people’s minds, I never expected to be seeing war breaking out, once again on the European mainland.