Thursday, 21 March 2024

To Derby!

I don’t have to get up too early. Thankfully. Time to do stuff before heading off. My flight isn’t until 13:30. I jump in a cab a bit before 10:00. I want to get a lounge breakfast. Both solid and liquid.

It seems like just yesterday I was here, I think as I enter Schiphol. Oh, I remember, it was just over 24 hours ago I stumbled off that flight from Brazil. Not feeling that bad, as I hadn’t gone crazy with the boozing and got a good few hours kip.

There’s a bit of a queue at passport control. Maybe 15 minutes. Nothing crazy. I’m in the lounge soon enough. Whisky first, then some food.

The hot food isn’t bad. A decent enough beef stew. With a slice of wholemeal bread. Goes very nicely with my brace of whiskies.

I’m still feeling peckish and go for a second course. After a second course of whiskies, obviously.  Cheese, olives, pickles and brown bread. Quite a lot of cheese. And a boiled egg.

There’s time for a couple more rounds of whisky before I trundle off to my gate. Which is a bit of a walk on D pier. I’m used to getting transcontinental flights from the much handier E and or F piers.

The flight is pretty much one time. Even after spending 10 minutes taxiing to the polderbaan.

It’s a rather long walk to immigration, which involves doubling back. Now there’s a great layout.

Once they’ve looked at my passport, I’m done, not having checked in a bag. I just need to find my way to the tube. It’s a simple ride. As St. Pancras is my destination, which is on the Piccadilly line. It’s about 14:30, when the tube train pulls out.

I’ve arranged to meet Mike Siegel (of Goose Island) at 16:00 in the Betjeman Arms. A pub inside the station. I should be there in time. It’s about an hour or so on the tube. But everything in London always takes much longer than you expect.

I arrive at the station in good time. I just have to get to the mainline station. Not as easy as you might think. The Piccadilly line platforms are several levels down. And the lifts don’t go all the way to the top. You need to take a relay of lifts to escape from the bowels.

When I finally get to street level, I’m right at the back of the station. I decide it’s easier to walk outside along the street, rather than in the crowded station. And I get to walk past the Salt’s Burton Pale Ale stores.

I get to the pub around 15:50. Pausing only to snap a few pics of the beautiful station.

Mike hasn’t arrived yet. So I get myself a pint of Harveys Best. Because I can. It’s not in the greatest of condition.

I haven’t been sitting long when a voice behind me says: “Hello, Ron.”

When I’ve recovered from the shock, I realise that it’s Derek Prentice. Oracle on London brewing and all-round nice bloke. It’s good to see him again.

“How’s the Harveys?” he asks. I let him try it. “That’s funky, even for Harveys.”

Not long after Mike Sigel and Shane roll up. I recommend against the Harveys and they go for Youngs Ordinary. As do I for my second pint.

We haven’t long to hang around. Our train to Derby is at 17:00. After we move on to Youngs Special, Derek asks Mike if he knows where the Youngs beers are currently brewed.

“Maybe in Burton.”

No-one seems to be sure. Which is rather sad.

We say our goodbyes to Derek and make the short walk to our train. Which seems to be on time. There’s a miracle.

I haven’t eaten since my lounge breakfast. Just as well I ate plenty then. When the trolley comes around, I ask:

“Do you have any sandwiches?”

“No, just snacks.”

Disappointed, I get two bags of crisps. Cheese and onion and salt and vinegar. Just to keep my diet balanced.

Once our bags are dumped in our hotel, we venture out in search of food. Well, there isn’t really any searching. Mike has already planned this out. We’ll be eating in the Exeter Arms, a beer pub with decent food.

There’s a pretty good selection of cask beer. And the cosiness of an open fire. It’s rather nice. I get a Thornbridge Crackendale.

Once seated, we order some food. Scotch eggs and pies. We share one each of the three types of Scotch eggs they make. Followed by a main of three small pies, served with chips and mushy peas.

The pies are rather nice. Though my son Andrew, who’s a bit of a pie Nazi, would have complained because they were all pot pies. That is, there was no pastry side or bottom. Just a lid.

Once we’ve eaten, Mike suggests that we continue on to the Smithfield. Where they have Draught Bass.

The pub is like a shrine to Bass. Memorabilia covers the walls. Including a giant letters spelling “Bass”, which would once have adorned the exterior wall of a pub.

Being a bit of a contrarian, I get a Craven Brew Oatmeal Stout. Just because it’s so rare to see one. It’s OK. Maybe a little past its best. For my next beer, I surrender and go for the Bass.

The Bass is good. I’ve not had it for ages. As you rarely see it in the parts of the country I usually visit. Here, not far from Burton, it’s much more common. It’s not too farty and finishes quite dry and bitter. Easily good enough for a second pint.

The pub is reasonably well filled for a Monday night. But the age of the customers is a bit of a worry. Mike is one of the few under sixty. That doesn’t bode well for the future. Without a steady influx of young customers, pubs will surely die.

We don’t leave it too late. We have a busy day tomorrow.

In case you’re wondering “Why the hell is Ron going to Derby”, it’s researching for my next collaboration beer with Goose Island. I can’t say too much about it. Other than it will be an historic recipe. And probably British.



Disclosure: my travel and all expenses were paid by Goose Island.



Betjeman Arms
53, St Poncras International Station,
Euston Rd.,
London N1C 4QL.
https://www.thebetjemanarms.co.uk


Exeter Arms
Exeter Pl,
Derby DE1 2EU.
http://www.exeterarms.co.uk


The Smithfield

Riverlights House,
Meadow Road,
Derby DE1 2BH.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ron - does your time machine have hand pump & optic spirit dispensers on board.? And, can I come for a ride.? Thought you were in Brazil 🤷. Sev

Anonymous said...

You don't need to be a pie Nazi to feel that a pie with just a lid isn't a pie - it's stew with a pastry top. And puff rubbish at that I bet. It. Is. Not. A. Pie. In fifty years, there will be people reading about these things with the same level of disgust and disdain as your readers have for the 70's freeze dried garbage. A pie has sides, and a top, and is generally shortcrust pastry.

A Brew Rat said...

Does anyone else found it a bit concerting that Ron began another travelog before completing his Brazilian travelog? I was wondering how the heck did he get back to Amsterdam?