Almost a Spoons festival
Evenings begin with the best of intentions.
Three Wetherspoons in Derby. Bound to be a stack of festival beers. What could possibly go wrong?
Everything. Thankfully.
Starting at the Babington Arms, which has often put on all the 'overseas' brewers' fayre on the first fest night. We even had Luke Nicholas turn up one year. Tonight? Nada. Niet. Zip-doodly-squat.
Six below-average festival offerings on the bar; this scooper's turning on his heels. Then; Summer Wine Diablo. Really? Indeedy.
I never see Summer Wine beers unless I pilgrimage to Sheffield / Huddersfield. So, in a Spoons? For £2.20? It seems that fill-your-boots-hour is hoving into view. But the greying hordes on the next table start to fart; the shell-suited youth by the door is making no headway with his wife / mother / lover by calling her a "daft twat". Time to move on.
To the Standing Order. A splendid looking barn of an ex-banking hall. Rammed full of festival beers. The Bell's Kalamazoo Black Silk was all sticky liqorice. More stuff on offer that I really fancy by the likes of Fat Head's and Mordue. But I thought I ought to pop next door and see what's on offer.
Oh. My.
The Thomas Leaper is literally next door, separated only by the drunk holding two pints, outside on the step, and the semi-comatose bloke slumped by the fire escape. It's a Lloyd's No.1; they have music, fewer piss-stained fat men, more sharper haircuts. Not many festival beers, to be sure.But they had more Summer Wine.
Specifically, Kahuna, the big-fat-grapefruit IPA, and Barista, the chocca-full-of-mocha-stout.
For £1.50 a pint.
You didn't just open a random door into beery Narnia,
£1.50 a pint.
What did I do?
Reader, I drank them.
And drank them.
And drank them some more.
Sometimes, the best thing about well-publicised beer festivals is the unforeseen.
Three Wetherspoons in Derby. Bound to be a stack of festival beers. What could possibly go wrong?
Everything. Thankfully.
Starting at the Babington Arms, which has often put on all the 'overseas' brewers' fayre on the first fest night. We even had Luke Nicholas turn up one year. Tonight? Nada. Niet. Zip-doodly-squat.
Six below-average festival offerings on the bar; this scooper's turning on his heels. Then; Summer Wine Diablo. Really? Indeedy.
I never see Summer Wine beers unless I pilgrimage to Sheffield / Huddersfield. So, in a Spoons? For £2.20? It seems that fill-your-boots-hour is hoving into view. But the greying hordes on the next table start to fart; the shell-suited youth by the door is making no headway with his wife / mother / lover by calling her a "daft twat". Time to move on.
To the Standing Order. A splendid looking barn of an ex-banking hall. Rammed full of festival beers. The Bell's Kalamazoo Black Silk was all sticky liqorice. More stuff on offer that I really fancy by the likes of Fat Head's and Mordue. But I thought I ought to pop next door and see what's on offer.
Oh. My.
The Thomas Leaper is literally next door, separated only by the drunk holding two pints, outside on the step, and the semi-comatose bloke slumped by the fire escape. It's a Lloyd's No.1; they have music, fewer piss-stained fat men, more sharper haircuts. Not many festival beers, to be sure.But they had more Summer Wine.
Specifically, Kahuna, the big-fat-grapefruit IPA, and Barista, the chocca-full-of-mocha-stout.
For £1.50 a pint.
You didn't just open a random door into beery Narnia,
£1.50 a pint.
What did I do?
Reader, I drank them.
And drank them.
And drank them some more.
Sometimes, the best thing about well-publicised beer festivals is the unforeseen.
And you managed to blog about it, too - i'm impressed! Good score on the SWB Beers - Kahuna is thier 'sleeper hit' if you ask me, it's wonderful but doesn't seem to be getting any headlines! Looks like its time for my annual foray to the 'spoons of Leeds, then....see you on the other side.
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