Talking and talking

Dolores has made tea before I wake. Again.

“Cup of tea, Ronald?”

“Yes, please. No fear of pissing myself today.”

“Charming.”

“Just being honest.”

I’m intrigued by what the breakfast will offer.

“I wonder if there’ll be bacon.”

“Why?” Dolores asks.

“A breakfast isn’t a breakfast without bacon. Not a proper one”

“That’s just your opinion.”

“And that’s all that really counts.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

It does turn out to be a proper breakfast. With bacon and two types of sausage. Dolores goes for the cold stuff.

“No bacon for you?” I ask.

“You know that I don’t eat bacon. Not for breakfast.”

“I thought you might have seen the light.”

“Fuck off, Ronald.”

“That’s not very ladylike.”

“Fuck off.”

I recreate my preferred Brazilian breakfast: scrambled egg and bacon, followed by fruit. That puts me in a good mood. And the coffee gets me perked up and ready to rock.

Someone comes up and tells me that my ride to Villa Raab, where I’ll be speaking, leaves in six minutes. Just as well I left plenty of time for breakfast. We quickly go upstairs and fetch my laptop, And books. Which I take in the roller bag. As they’re effing heavy.

“We shouldn’t have brought so many bricks with us.”

“Very funny, Ronald.”

Markus Raupach, whom I know from Chile, is also in the minibus. It’s nice to see him again.

When I get to the room, they’re unpacking the beer that will be served while I’m talking. Apart from Fullers IPA, all Sam Smiths beers. Nut Brown Ale, Porter and Imperial Stout.

I fire up my laptop and try to connect it to the massive TV. I’ve plugged in the HDMI cable, without any luck. Someone from the hotel comes to my aid. Rolling down the screen to which the HDMI cable really connects. I’m glad it was so easy to sort out.

Ninety minutes are scheduled for the talk. On the history of UK beer styles. Including any questions. I should be able to fill that. Once I get started, I’m hard to stop.

The talk goes pretty well. Though I’m having so much fun rambling on, that I need to rush the last part a bit. I could easily have gone on for two hours.

I shift a decent number of books. Which is good. Dolores is pleased. And that’s what is most important. I never want to piss her off.

The people from the next talk start setting up. Bringing lots of cheese. Rather smelly cheese. At first, I wonder if I remembered to change my socks this morning. Before realising that the cheesy smell is coming from, er, cheese.

We’re taken back to the castle. Where we’ve a few hours before my second talk. We spend some of it in the tent in the courtyard, where we have lunch: Eupener bratwurst and mashed spuds. Not exactly gourmet fare. It fills a hole, though.

My second talk is in a smaller room in the castle museum. Which is in a building about 50 metres away from the castle itself. It only holds about twenty people.

It’s a new talk I wrote especially for this event. On brewing in the DDR. I had so much fun writing it. Partly because I already had pretty much all of the material I needed. Only having to top it up a little with some extra details from Kunze’s “Technologie Brauer und Mälzer”. One of my favourite books and favourite technical authors.

Having Dolores along is handy. As she actually drank some of the beers I’m describing. Every now and again I call on her for comments.

The audience seems quite surprised by some of the information. DDR brewing having fallen out of consciousness and, to some extent, been written out of history. Which is a shame, as it’s an important part of post-war German brewing. Not just a temporary aberration.

I don’t shift as many books after I’m done yapping. But I do have some good conversations with audience members.

“I feel like a lie down now.” I tell Dolores.

“That’s OK.”

“We oldie people need our naps.”

“Speak for yourself.” 

Back in our room, I don’t in fact sleep. Deciding to watch the rugby. The Ireland vs Scotland game. Which is on ITV. Necessitating firing up their iplayer. As the game is most of the way through, I opt to watch the programme from the beginning,

Just one problem. There’s more than an hour of people talking bollocks before the game starts. And I can’t fast forward through the nonsense. Fuck.

I have a quick draught of hotel whisky to ease my annoyance. It helps. But not much.

Eventually, the fat men start chasing the funny-shaped ball around.

Dolores nipped to the local supermarket earlier. And picked up more rolls, cheese and shit. On which we dine lavishly.

“Do you want some of the Korean chicken?”

“Can do. How hot is it now?”

“Like Russian roulette. Some pieces are OK, some hot as hell.”

“I’ll chance it.”

The piece I pick is towards the hell end of the spectrum. About as hot as I can eat with pleasure.

There’s a sort of end-of-event piss-up at the Bürgerhaus. Where home brewers will be serving their beers. It kicks off at 20:15.

It’s a short walk away from the castle. The supermarket is on the way and we drop in. For supplies for the train tomorrow. And some emergency whisky. Got to have some of that.

The Bürgerhaus is very busy. I have trouble making my way to one of the bars. Someone grabs hold of me and guides me to his bar. Where he has a couple of bottles of 1980s Berliner Weisse for me. From the DDR.

We open one of the bottles and share it. For a beer that’s forty years old it’s in incredible condition. Not oxidised at all. And very complex. Really rather wonderful. The other bottle I get to take with me. Which is so cool.

Moving along, Markus takes me to the bar where the brewer from Lemke is. He has a bottle of Bock-strength Berliner Weisse for me.

“I’ve been trying persuade someone to brew one of these for years. Without any luck.”

I’m so happy to get my hands on one. Dead intrigued as to how it will taste.

It’s all a bit too crowded for me in the room where the beers are being served. I’ve been standing too long, too. Fortunately, there’s seating in an adjoining room. And a couple of free seats. Me and Dolores sit down.

No need to get up and fetch beer. People keep bringing it to me. Like a yummy Stout that’s a couple of years old and brewed to one of my recipes. And a very good Barley Wine brewed in collaboration with Henry Kirk. Christoph brings over his Session IPA, which he’s serving via handpump. Very tasty, too.

People also drop by for a chat. It’s all very sociable. And lots of fun. Dolores seems to be enjoying herself, too. Finding plenty of people to talk to. I’m glad she isn’t getting bored.

I’m given a bottle of home-brewed Berliner Weisse. It’s getting to be quite a Berliner Weisse evening. Which is no bad thing.

We leave at around 11:00. I can’t be doing with late nights anymore. It’s been a long day, too. With my first beer at 10:00. I need some rest.

“What did you think of the weekend, Dolores?” I ask as we walk back to the castle.

“I enjoyed it. The atmosphere was really good. Everyone was very friendly.”

“What about the beer?”

“Most of it was good. And it was free. I liked that.”

“Free beer tastes the best.”

“Exactly.”

“You weren’t bored?”

“No. There were plenty of people to talk to.”

“That’s good to know.”

It really is. The last thing I want to do is piss off Dolores. That never ends well.

The castle looks magical in the darkness. A patch of the outer wall illuminated blood-red.

Emergency whisky is my slumber helper.



Bürgerhaus Romrod
Zeller Str. 9, 
36329 Romrod.
 

 

A video of my time at the Heimbrau Convention.