We get up again around 2 PM. I’m so confused about what day and time it is. I’m not so sure how wise staying up for breakfast was. I feel totally exhausted.
“What do you fancy doing, Andrew?”
“Pub.” he says succinctly.
We looked for pubs close to our hotel before leaving Amsterdam.
“How about the Five Bells?”
“Sure, Andrew.”
Five Bells exterior |
It’s not far. Just a few blocks away. Thankfully, we don’t have to cross any busy roads. That looks so fucking dangerous.
Most of the pub is actually outside, covered by a tent. There are air-conditioning units. But, as it isn’t that hot, they aren’t switched on.
We both order a Stella. No, not that Stella. It’s a local beer. Though one which is produced by a brewery owned by Heineken.
A bottle of Stella beer. |
“What do you think of the beer, Andrew?”
“It’s OK.”
He’s not wrong. It’s drinkable, if unspectacular. He must quite like it, as he’s polished off his before I’ve had more than a couple of mouthfuls of mine.
We decide to order some food. Plate of chips for Andrew, falafel for me. Though neither of us is very hungry. We pick at our meals in a leisurely way.
A plate of chips and a plate of falafel' |
One beer is enough for me. Not that I stop drinking. I move over to whisky. A local one. I’m not made of money. It’s OK Wet and pretty alcoholic. Rather like me.
There’s football on a TV. A local game. It reminds me of South America. Where there’s always football on TV in every pub. Often more than one game on different TVs.
There are only a couple of other customers. More staff, in fact.
A second footy game starts. A rather more important local game, given the behaviour of the staff. They’re paying far more attention. And reacting far more to events on the pitch. The game finishes two all. And, oddly, immediately goes to penalties.
We hang around for quite a while. It’s only at around 7 PM that more people start turning up. Which is our cue to leave.
Inside the Five Bells. |
“Let’s go to the supermarket on our way back.” Andrew suggests.
There’s one called Metro just opposite our hotel. Which is where we go.
I think I know what Andrew is looking for: beer. It’s a very well-stocked shop. But the one thing they don’t have is beer. I can’t say that it surprises me. Instead, we get some mixers for our duty free. And some cheese and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps.
Back in our room, we get stuck into the duty free. Mixing the Tanqueray with this weird lime green Schweppes stuff we got. As there was no tonic water in the supermarket.
We spend the remainder of the evening sipping away and watching stuff on my laptop. It’s quite late when we crawl off to bed. About 2 AM. We aim to rise around 9:30 AM for breakfast. Hopefully that will work.
Despite us having risen late and done fuck all but hang around in a pub for hours, I’m still feeling knacked.
Duty free Bowmore is my impetus to sleep.
Five Bells
13 Ismail Mohammed,
Abu Al Feda,
Zamalek,
Cairo Governorate 11211.
2 comments:
Egypt was effectively a British colony for seventy years, from 1882 to 1952, with lots of troops stationed there, especially along the Suez Canal, the main shipping route to British India. Were there ever any breweries producing British beers there, or did they just ship stuff in from home or other British colonies in the Middle East?
I drank Stella in Tunisia in the mid 1970s and assumed it was a local brand. However on checking, Stella in Egypt was owned by Heineken since 1937 and presumably imported into Tunisia from Egypt to compete with the Tunisian Celtia brand.
Pleasant international lager.
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