Festival!

With no early start, I lie in until 8. I have a shower and troll downstairs at about 8:45. Uwe and Andreas are there. Martyn comes down a few minutes later. And then Sandy.

No bacon today. Damn. I was looking forward to that. Those sliced up sausages really don’t do it for me. It's back to scrambled egg and cheese. Followed by fruit.

A breakfast of mixed fresh fruit, orange juice and coffee.

After breakfast I write up yesterday back in my room. And have a little pisco and coke eye opener.

We meet in the lobby at 10:30 for our little excursion to Ergo, Daniel’s brewery. Well, cellar, really. There’s rather more of us than originally anticipated. We have to get an extra capacity Uber to squeeze everyone in.

The cellar is housed in part of a former furniture factory. Down a fairly dodgy-looking industrial street. The factory has seen better days. Though perhaps not that better. The concrete looks pretty shoddy, in parts.

There’s a steep narrow staircase down to the cellar.

“Are you OK with that?” Daniel asks. “You could use the lift.”

“It’s OK. I live in Amsterdam. I’ve seen worse.” And the lift looks even more rickety. I’ll take my chances with the stairs.

It’s a fairly compact space. With barrels, bottles and cans crammed into most of the available room.

Wooden barrels in the Ergo cellar.

For several hours, Daniel plies us with samples of all sorts of barrel-aged stuff. Starting with cider and perry. Some his own, some from a producer further south. All really good. One batch was made with apples from a single tree.

We try lots of Daniels own concoctions. Barrel-aged beers with all sorts of things in them. Quite adventurous. And mostly pretty good.

The toilets are, er, interesting.

“Do you remember that scene in Trainspotting?” Daniel asks.

I do. They aren’t quite that bad. But are still pretty grim.

The rather dodgy toilets at Ergo.

We eventually drag ourselves away. Getting a couple of Ubers to transport us to the beer festival. Which is outdoors, in a park. And very nice it is, too.

Gran Festival Cervercero Independiente, or the Great Chilean Beer Festival, is, as the name implies, a festival for independent Chilean breweries. Though nothing like all of them.

A section of the park has been fenced off. Inside are four dozen or so brewery stands. Along with ones for food and other stuff. It’s all very relaxed. Oh, I almost forgot, you have the Andes in the background.

Lots of families are present. Once again, I’m struck by the youth of the beer crowd in South America. Unlike in most of Europe and the USA. Where many of those into beer are over 50. It’s a sign that the scene is much newer here.

The Mowa brewery stand at the beer festival.

We wander a bit around the brewer stands, getting the odd sample. And food. It’s after 4 PM and I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Other than a few crisps at Daniel’s.

I get a prawn handroll. Which is a long tube of rice with a filling, wrapped in breadcrumbs and deep fried. It’s very filling. Which is just what I need right now.

Prawn handroll on a table.

I recognise that smell. You get it a lot in Amsterdam. Weed. It’s not just beer that’s being consumed.

We’re headed for the stage. Where the competition medals will be awarded. Chris wants us all there by 5 PM.

Currently, there’s a blues band on stage. Look at that. The fucker’s playing a 5-string bass. Work of the devil, those things.

I wander off to get a refill. And notice the Klein stand. A brewery in Temuco, which I visited last September. The young woman serving recognises me and signals for me to come over. And gives me a beer. Which is nice of her.

The band is still banging away come the awards time of 17:30. Who knows when it will start now. Understanding how long this going to take, I sit on an equipment box at the side of the stage. After a while, Daniella, one of the stewards at the contest, brings over a folding chair for me. Which is nice of her. That’s much better.

Eventually the band fucks off and awards are given. The winners get very excited. As they are fully entitled to. But it all goes on a very long time. Chris looks exhausted when it ends.

He offers to give Sandy and me a lift back to the hotel.

“Let’s go now.” He says. Then gets distracted multiple times. It’s almost an hour later, at well after 20:30, when we emerge from the park. By which time I’m starting to be in the need for a wee.

It’s getting quite late when we’re back at the hotel.

“One last nightcap, Ron?” Chris asks.

“OK, twist my arm, then. Just let go and have a piss first.”

A few judges gradually drift into the hotel bar Pisco sours are ordered, including one for me.

Martyn's vintage beers, two glasses of Royal Wedding Ale and a pisco sour.

Martyn brings down the bottles which were intended for a vintage beer tasting. I brought over bottles, too. We just never seemed to have time to do it. A bottle of Royal Wedding beer is opened.

“That’s not as dreadful as I feared. It’s actually quite drinkable.” Martyn remarks.

I don’t linger over my pisco sour. I need to be up at 6 AM. Luckily the clocks are changing overnight. Going back an hour. Giving me an extra hour of kip.




Gran Festival Cervercero Independiente
Parque Padre Hurtado,
Avda. Francisco de Bilbao 8105,
La Reina,
Santiago.



Disclaimer: a fee, my hotel and some meals were paid by the Chile Independent Beer Week.