Festival!

I rise at 8:40, brush my teeth and descend for breakfast

There’s almost no-one there. I get my usual breakfast and after a little while Jos turns up and sits at my table.

“Do you know what time the festival starts today?”

“I don’t know. I’ll look it up.”

He can’t find the opening times. Oh well.

As it looks pretty cool outside, I go straight to the supermarket after breakfast. Despite it only being 25º C, I still feel pretty warm when I get there.

I pick up some stuff for lunch: rolls, cheese and salami. That should stop me from starving. And give me some ballast come festival time. Despite the relatively low temperature, I’m bathed in sweat by the time I get back to my room.

Looking at the festival website, I see that the festival opens at 17:00 for industry people and 19:00 for the general public. I guess us judges count as industry.

It’s going to be a fairly lazy day. Not much on, other than an appointment with Fe Brasciano at 13:30. Which then gets delayed until 15:00, in Bier Vila.

I get myself a Catharina Sour on arrival. I ask for “medio”, thinking that will get me the middle size. It actually gets me a half litre. I also get a caipirinha to keep it company.

After a while of chatting with Fe, Jos arrives and sits at our table. He gets himself some schnitzel strips. Which gets me thinking: maybe I should get some food. Nothing too big, mind. I look in the small meal section of the menu. They seem to have an odd concept of “small”. For example, a full-sized portion of fish and chips. I get deep-fried mash things. They’re quite pleasant and not too filling.

Fe goes off to pick up her accreditation, saying she’ll be back in a few minutes. Half an hour later and she hasn’t returned. As it’s already way past 17:00, Jos and I pay and leave. The hall is fairly empty.  Now how do we get a beer?

Payment, it seems, is by a card you charge up. Except the desk selling them isn’t open yet. Next to it is the Patanegra stand, where they’re still setting up, but are happy to serve us some beers for free. I get an American IPA, while Jos goes for a Session IPA. I’ve made the better choice. Mine is really rather nice. While his is oxidised.

Next I get an Imperial Stout, which is deeply roasty and packed with alcohol. My kind of beer.

I try a Double IPA next. I’m going for all the session stuff. By the time I’ve finished, a queue has formed at the till. Jos gets a card with 200 reals on it. Which allows me to use one of the few phrases I know in Portuguese:

“O mismo.”

We find ourselves some seats and look around for beer. Being a lazy git, I opt for the closest stand. Which in Alcapone. Wanting to stick to the session stuff, I ask for a Barley Wine.

When I’ve sat down again, someone from the Alcapone stand comes up and talks to me. At first, I think, are they asking if I’ve paid. What they really want to know is what I think of it, as it’s their first attempt at a Barley Wine. I haven’t actually tried it yet. It’s maltily rich, balanced with a decent hop bitterness.

“It’s very nice. With the right balance of sweet malt and bitterness for the style.”

They seem pretty chuffed at my answer.

When the band starts up it gets too loud to have a comfortable conversation. I hate overly loud music at beer festivals. I can’t understand why anyone likes it. Don’t they want to converse with their companions? We decant to the next hall. It doesn’t have any beer stands, just other things like coffee. But the noise level is way lower.

I discuss Brexit with Jos. Well, mostly shout and froth at the mouth. It’s that time of day. After several caipirinhas and strong beers.

“I haven’t used any of the money on my card yet.” I tell Jos.

“I‘ve starting paying.  I don’t want to freeload.” Jos replies.

“I’d normally charge for the talk I’m giving tomorrow. More than the cost of a few beers.”

I have a few more beers from Alcapone. More low-alcohol stuff: an Imperial Stout, a Double IPA and another Barley Wine, just to check if it’s still OK.

“Do you want a full measure?” the man serving asks.

“Yes, please.”

I bail out a little before ten. I don’t want to go to bed too late.

On the way out there are some cachaça stands. Including Wylaardt. The owner is there. I go up and shake his hand and tell him how much I loved his 18-year-old. I’m not sure he totally understands, but maybe my smiles and thumbs up give him an inkling.

I get an Uber in a couple of minutes. One of the advantages of leaving early. I’ve only had beers from two breweries. That works for me. No way I can get around them all anyway. I’m happy to stick with a brewery whose beers are good.

I sort of regret getting the card and putting 200 reals on it, as I’ve spent nothing. The Alcapone people seem to have liked my comments and are happy to give me full measures for free. Their beers are really good. I wasn’t bullshitting.

Back in my room, a cachaça nightcap soon has me stumbling down the stairs to sleep.



Choperia Bier Vila
R. Alberto Stein, 199
Sala 100
Velha, Blumenau
SC, 89036-900.
https://www.biervila.com.br/