I rise a little before 10. And feel much better after a nice cup of tea. Always the best way to start the day, a nice cup of tea.
Wow. Andrew gets up at 11:20! Oh, it's just to plug his phone in to charge. He's now gone back to bed. It's more like one when he actually gets up.
I make myself a cup of tea and do some writing. Ummm. That's the way to start the day: with a nice cup of tea.
Today's plan is simple. Go on a brewery crawl. There are three fairly close to each other within walking distance. According to Andrew.
"It's not as far as yesterday, Dad"
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. It’s much closer.”
“Let’s walk, then.”
Not totally sure I believe Andrew.
As we set off for the first brewery, Crafty Robot, it's raining. Not too heavily, thankfully. And it really isn’t that far. He wasn’t lying. This time.
The brewery is an area that's mostly light industrial. And is itself a light industrial shed. With the stripped-down look so common in these places. It looks pretty new, too.
There are ten beers on tap.
“What do I want?”
“I don’t know, Dad.”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, Mr. Alzheimer.”
“Very funny. I think I'll plump for the hazy IPA.”
"Going for the strongest beer again, eh, Dad."
"I just happen to fancy an IPA. And, anyway, the Stout is a bit stronger."
"But that's on nitro. I know you don't like that."
“Work of the devil. As I’ve often told you.”
“Making the IPA the strongest beer you’d drink.”
“Well done Mr. Logic.” That leaves him speechless. It’s a gift, I know. Or he might just not be very chatty today. Like most other days, come to think of it.
Andrew gets an amber Czech Lager. That’s his sort of thing.
It's not very full. Only about half a dozen people. And four of those are staff.
My beer isn't too bad. Not too sludgy and with some nice hop character. Andrew seems happy with his, too. Though, at the speed he’s knocking it back, he may not be getting all the nuances of its flavour.
The rain is getting heavier. The beer garden is totally waterlogged.
"I'm surprised there's no-one in the beer garden."
"Very funny, Dad."
“It’s a gift, I know.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“I’m perfectly well aware of that.”
It's 3 PM and I realise that I haven't eaten anything. We order some cheesy fingers to share. Which fills a bit of a hole. Amazingly, Andrew eats half of the fingers.
I quite like this place and its stripped-down style. Bright and inviting.
Andrew has a Pale Lager, before switching to Witbier. While I stick to the sludge. The other two customers leave.
"Is it always this quiet?" I ask one of the staff.
"No. It's because of the weather."
That sounds believable. It's now pissing it down. Just as well it's not far to the next brewery, Silver Brewing.
As we approach, Andrew says: "I think it's that building with the smoke coming out of it."
And, indeed, it is. They’re barbecuing meat.
It's laid out slightly oddly, with booths running down one wall. And one table almost in the brewery area. While there’s a more restauranty bit next to the kitchen.
"Stocks are quite low and we've only two beers on tap." The barman says. A bit strange for a brewpub to run out of its own beers. Though it seems to be concentrating on being a restaurant more than a brewery.
We both get Pacific Ales. Not that I drink much of mine, as I suddenly feel exhausted.
"Why don't you get a cola, Dad? That will perk you up."
“Good suggestion. “
And after a while I do, indeed, feel a bit better.
The place seems to be Serbian owned. At least, that's what all the food is and I hear the old lady who's cooking speaking a Slavonic language. A group of middle-aged men orders a round of raki shots.
“Maybe a raki would liven me up?”
“Right, Dad. Feeling better?”
“Probably after a raki. Or two.”
“Just a coincidence that you need something highly alcoholic.”
“Yes. It’s just a weird intuition of mine. That raki will help.”
“You’re like a medieval peasant.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
“Not taken as one, either.”
After a couple of apple rakis, I am, indeed, feeling much better.
“I’m feeling much better now.”
“More pissed, you mean.”
“’Cheered up’, is how I’d describe my state.”
“There’s a new euphemism for ‘pissed’.”
As it's already after 6 PM, we decide to skip Mismatch, the last of the three breweries.
The place is starting to fill up with diners. Who order big platters of meat. Which looks nice, but would be enough for a whole sumo wrestling school. Way too much for me and Andrew.
“Fancy meat, Andrew?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Just being polite.”
“There’s a first.”
“Fuck off. I’m Mr. Polite, me. You cunt.”
“Point proved.”
“Fuck off.”
“Running out of swear words, Dad?”
“Piss off.”
When we climb into an Uber to head back to our hotel, it's pissing it down. Andrew bravely heads to Woollies for some food while I go to our room.
We end the day watching TV and sipping whiskey. Before turning in pretty early. Have to be up to check out at 11.
Crafty Robot Brewing
180/188 Grote St,
Adelaide SA 5000.
https://craftyrobot.beer/
Silver Brewing Co
200-206 Gouger St,
Adelaide SA 5000'
https://www.silverbrewingco.com.au/
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment