That hill. That dirty great hill.
There's one advantage to stying in Neuhaus. It's down that dirty great hill to get to Windischeschenbach. Of course, you have to come back up it to sleep. But that's a problem for later.
Two Zoigl Stube are open in Windischeschenbach today. More than enough to tempt me down the hill. The sun is still shining. Moving the temperatue from too bloody hot, to unbearably bloody hot. At least I'm walking downhill. The woods leading down to the river look cool and tempting. Until you see the precipitous slope. Wouldn't fancy trying to walk down that. At least the trees would break your fall, should you slip. Probably break a bone or two, as well.
Walking through town I smell that unmistakable smell. Wort boiling. I remember the communal brewery being just off the main drag. And around the next corner, there it is. A trailer parked outside receiving the spent grain. I can't miss taking a snap of that.
At the door of Zoiglstube Fiedlschneider I realise that I've made a slight miscalculation. It doesn't open until 14:00. And it's not yet one. Not to worry, Schloßhof is just around the corner.
For some reason it strikes me as posher than the other Stube. Not sure why. More up-market courtyard, I guess. Picking a spot in the shade, I wait for the Zoigl to roll by. It doesn't so much hit the spot as give it leathering. Time for me to disappoint with tasting notes again. The beer is as golden and hazy as the humid day itself. And bitter as the thought of having to walk up that dirty great hill later. I treat myself to a second. Just to make sure if it will hit that spot again. The spot is left battered, broken and bloody.
A pair of middle-aged cyclists appear, looking as red and sweaty as I feel. Rather them than me on a day like this. The heat and hill combination must be a thrombie's dream. I don't believe in giving him a sniff of a chance.
I'd have had a third. But I couldn't get that hill out of my head. At the bus stop, I discovered I'd just missed the last bus of the day. Damn.
A taxi came to my rescue. For just six euros I dodged the agony of a climb up that dirty great hill. Money well spent.
The Zoigling wasn't yet done. Because my hotel, Waldnaabtal is one of the few places to permanently offer Zoigl. Their own Zoigl. One of seven Zoigls for sale in Neuhaus. (The six I mentioned yesterday are the ones brewed by private families.) That was my dinner destination chosen.
Waldnaabtal gave me my first taste of Zoigl, four - or was it five? - years back. I was a little disappointed. Too much fizz and not enough character. But weird dalek-like glasses. I give it another try. I hate to say this. I really hate to say this, because it makes me sound like a rating fascist. It's got the buttery note I associate with diacetyl. I like a bit in a Lager. Fills out the body. But not this much. It's still too fizzy. Disappointing as Zoigls go, but by no means bad.
I eat liver. That's true both as a general statement and as a specific one about this evening. It's quite nice. Not too heavy. I couldn't take a big Haxe type lump of pork in this weather. Far too hot for that.
I'm not staying in the main part of the hotel, but an associated holiday flat down the street. Or rather up the street. The day ends with a short climb. At least I dodged the big climb.
Tel: 09861 2660
92670 Windischeschenbach, Deutschland
Tel: 09681 3711
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