Up in the Andes

“It's a pity it'll be dark when we arrive." Chris told me yesterday. "Because the view is amazing."

I rise just around dawn. And he's not wrong. The view out of my room's window is incredible. As the first rays strike the peaks and turn them to gold. God, I love Chile. It’s so beautiful.

The Andes at Lonquimay at dawn

It’s a toasty 23º C in my room according to the thermostat. The only time I’ve been properly warm since landing in Temuco.

I'm the first down for breakfast. Which makes a change. Paddy comes down soon after. With more fascinating tales of the brewing industry in the 1980s. He worked at so many long-closed breweries: M&B Springfield, Cape Hill, Highgate, George’s, Horsleydown.

A breakfast of two fried eggs, fruit and tea.

By the time Chris comes down, I've polished off my two fried eggs. And have moved onto fruit. Got to get some healthy stuff into my body. It’s a pretty good spread. But only instant coffee. I drink tea. Very nice Twinings tea.

Boris turns up and takes us to the malt room. Which is incredibly hot. When we progress down to the brewery, I realise why. The copper is under the malt room. It's heating up. And is directly fired by a gas burner. Quite spectacular. Not something you see every day.

Copper with burner underneath

When the water is hot enough, it's filled into the mash tun. And we return to the malt room to add the malt. Not that I do any lifting of sacks. That's too much like work. Something which, as a happily retired man, I never plan doing again.

Paddy, who has over 40 years’ experience as a brewer, has some detailed comments about the setup. Especially the mash tun, which is a tall, narrow cylinder.  A mash tun is ideally wide and shallow.

Lots of constructive suggestions follow from Paddy. Boris, keen to learn, asks lots of questions. This is what was supposed to be happening at the conference and surrounding events. Local brewers benefitting from the knowledge and experience of the foreign experts. It’s happening in spades here.

Not sure where I fit in. All I know about is history. At least the recipe is mine. Or. At least, started out that way.

Boris shows us where the new brew house he's bought from China will be installed. This is the view:

Brewhouse view of the Andes

Once we're mashed in, Paddy and Sue head off for a walk.

"Do you want to come along, Ron?"

"No, that looks like too much climbing for me."

Ah, the joy of growing old. Hills are off the agenda permanently. Unless someone is prepared to carry me. Don’t think there’s much chance of that.

Instead of torturing myself., I sit in the warmth of the bar, gazing at the mountains. I've not got bored of them yet. Typing up notes on my laptop and slowly sipping on a pint of Pewenche, a dark 8% beer. The brewer asked yesterday what style I thought it was. "Dark Mild." was my reply. Before I found out it was 8% ABV. Knowing that, I'd go with Burton Ale.

The rooms are all named after their beers. Coincidentally, I’m staying in the one called Pewenche.

I haven’t told you what the beer is that we’re brewing yet, have I? It’s based on an 1890s Thomas Usher Shilling Ale recipe. Based being the operative word. There have been a few tweaks.

While everyone is away, four young people arrive. They don’t look like customers and don’t buy anything. They just stand around. Who the hell are they?

It's quite a while before Paddy and Sue come back. They've been to look at a volcano. Not something you can do often in the UK. They’re accompanied by the owner of Metrulo, another tiny brewery nearby.

Boris is very passionate and very energetic. He built the brewery, bar and hotel himself. I don’t mean totally on his own, but without a builder.

While we’re waiting for the mash to run off, we eat lunch. I have Chilean shepherd's pie (as Chris describes it): ground maize on the top, boiled egg, chicken and ham underneath - it's really good.

Chilean shepherd's pie

The other brewer has brought four beers, which we sample after lunch. Three of them are nice and clean. The fourth, Cream Porter, is a gusher. The beer goes all over the table and the poor bloke’s phone. It’s all a bit of a mess.

After lunch, the brew is ready for boiling. Paddy adds the hops standing on a rather rickety ladder. Rather him than me. I declined the opportunity.  Done it plenty of times before. Much more safely.

It turns out the young people are some sort of regional government officials. Checking on what we’re up to. They seem pretty impressed with Paddy’s detailed suggestions to Boris regarding process. It’s like a free consultancy

When we’ve finished cleaning up, we drive back to Temuco. Initially, there’s stunning mountain scenery. Then it looks like England, lush and green - except with snow-capped volcanoes in the background. That doesn’t stop me nodding off. It is a 2.5 hours drive.

Many of the wooden houses have a medieval look, with the first floor protruding a half metre or so. What that’s all about? It features in both old and brand-new houses.

Small food shops are everywhere. In Lonquimay and randomly at points along the road. Laden with brightly-painted signs advertising Crystal beer and Pepsi Cola. Along with holiday cabins, shops make up most of the rare structures scattered by the roadway.

Fields and pastures surf over the hills, uninterrupted save for brave stands of trees, tall and upright. Pines hum a dull green. Barren deciduous cousins sprout the barest flashes of green from their fingertips. Spring hasn’t quite sprung.

Biergarten Klein interior on a sunny day

We go straight to Klein where we meet Markus and Asbjorn. Markus has his favourite mix of draught beers and goes behind the bar to pour it. He must have done it before, as none of the staff bat an eyelid. Or maybe they’re really laid back.

I have an Imperial Stout. A pint, obviously. But I don’t want to fill myself up. So, I switch to gin. The London Dry gin, to be precise. Very fragrant. It slips down a treat. It was my favourite of the three I tried on my first night in Temuco.

We go outside where Camilo is barbecuing delicious steak. 

Camilo barbecues steak

Pete comes back from his collaboration brew and isn't happy because he had to give a talk he wasn't warned of. I understand his annoyance. It’s not nice being ambushed that way. It appears it was the same type of government officials who visited us who insisted on the talks. I think Paddy’s masterclass got us out of giving impromptu presentations.

I’m not hungry at all. That doesn’t stop me grabbing a cube of beef every time they come past. Damn, that’s nice.

I drink more gin. It is rather good. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Sue has never tried straight gin before. Only mixed with tonic. Judging by the look on her face, I don’t think she’ll be dropping the tonic anytime soon.

I get to bed about eleven. Flopping down to immediate sleep.



Biergarten Klein
Los Ganaderos 03326,
4811829 Temuco,
Araucanía.
http://www.klein.cl/


Disclaimer: The First International Araucania Cervercera Congress paid for my flights and for my hotel in Temuco, along with food and drink.