Please make it end

I rise at 7. Perform my ablutions, get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast.

It's the same as usual. Scrambled egg, cheese and ham. Followed by fruit for pudding. I'm dead boring. At least when it comes to breakfast. I’m Mr Exciting when it comes to, er, something. Let me have a think and I’ll get back to you.

Breakfast pudding of watermelon, a banana, orange juice and coffee.

Thomas Sjoberg joins me again. Always nice to start the day chatting with him. Then we trundle onto the bus.

It’s the last day of judging. Thankfully. For a different competition today: the South Beer Cup. With entries from all over South America. Four judges to a table, this time. No idea why.

I judge with Matin Proano, Rodolfo Rebelo and Hugo Simon.

Time for the first flight of the day. Experimental, and other, IPA: 10 examples.

This type of beer isn't my forte. I really struggle to make sense of them. The other judges seem better acquainted so I defer mostly to them.

Many judges, judging at tables.

After the first flight, Rodolfo leaves to buy stuff for tonight's BBQ. Which I'm really looking forward to. As many caipirinhas as you can drink, as well as food, for 120 reals. "That sounds like a challenge to me." I quip. How many can I get down in 3 hours? I'm aiming for double figures.

The second five beers are slow to appear. Which is annoying. The other days have been much better. No idea what the problem is as it's the same people serving. And there are fewer tables. The break does give me a chance to do some writing.

Next is smoked and historic beers. It’s very mixed in terms of styles. And strengths.

The flight is also brought out in two phases. There's a long wait for the final six beers. Dead frustrating watching other tables finish up and go to eat, while we just sit on our arses.

I'm sure that we judged several of the historic beers yesterday, too. Which is a bit weird.

One of the Grodziskies is dead good and gets a medal. A really nice Smoked Porter wins an award, too. And an Adambier. Though, personally, I found it too sweet. The Gotlandsdricke was in with a shout. But missed out narrowly. Partly because none of us had anything to compare in to.

We're in pretty close agreement as to which beers are the best. Which is good, seeing how long we've been hanging about.

A healthy bowl of crisps, rice, spaghetti meat and black beans.

Lunch isn't in a restaurant. Just a pre-packaged polystyrene bowl of stuff in the coffee corner. It’s carb-heavy, even for Brazil. A three-carb trick of crisps, rice and spaghetti. Along with some meat and black beans.

After eating I quickly fuck off before they ask me to do the BOS. I'm back in my room by 15:40. Yeah! What to do for the rest of the afternoon? Well, there is that cheap vodka. It won’t drink itself.

Barbecue tonight. At a yacht club. Fellow judges have bought the meat and the drinks. And it will be party time. Yeah!

I get an Uber down there at 18:30. The party is already in full swing. Meat, cocktails. Merriment. What more could you ask for?

Rafaelo in gaucho gear holding a tray of meat, bread and farafa.

I quickly grab myself a brace of caipirinhas and join in the fun. Rafaelo Santos, in gaucho costume, comes around with bread and meat. Delicious, succulent meat. Fuck me, it’s nice. I quickly consolidate my caipirinhas into one glass to leave a spare hand for meating.

Is it the meat or the caipirinhas? Things are getting pretty wild. Judges stand on tables and shout stuff. Mostly about the bottle of spirits they’re sharing. Like Norwegian aquavit, aged by a trip around the globe.

A Norwegian judge standing on a chair telling fellow judges about hi aquavit.

More than beef, the barbecue. Pork and even lamb, too. A meat heaven. Where the only danger is overindulging. Chatting with the other guests is a helpful distraction from the meaty deliciousness that keeps floating past.

Only 20 euros for all I could eat and drink. Which, in the latter case, was nine caiprinhas. Gutted I don't make double figures. But I need to be up at 6 AM. And I want to feel human.

I leave a little after ten. Regretting not having eaten more meat. Who hasn’t done been there? Vegetarians and vegans, I suppose. Or, perhaps, especially them.

I’m back in my room with enough time for a little writing and some cheap vodka. I really am living the dream. We're visiting a cachaçaria tomorrow. Wish me luck.



Yacht Club Camboriú
R. Dom Henrique, 1200
Jardim Iate Clube,
Balneário Camboriú
SC, 88337-260.

Disclaimer: my hotel and some meals in Balneário Camboriú were paid for Concurso Brasiliero de Cervejas.