Nürnberg

I arrive in Nürnberg Hauptbahnhof at around midday. It's only a short walk to my hotel, but the maze of pedestrian tunnels between the station and the old town make it take much longer than it should. They could try putting up some signs. At the fourth attempt I find the right exit.

There were two reasons I chose to stay in the Deutscher Kaiser: it's close to the station; it's an Andechs tied house. I check in. "Do you want a smoking or no smoking room?" I definitely don't want a smoking room. It might burst into flames.

I take the lift up to the fourth floor. It makes some worrying clunking noises on the way. My room door lacks a no smoking sign. This isn't good. Inside, it smells like an ashtray. There was a time when I would have let this slide and just taken the room. But I really don't fancy sleeping in this stink.

I take the lift back down to reception. It does a good deal more clunking. The receptionist apologises and gives me another room on the first floor. This one really is no smoking. See - it's worth sticking up for yourself.

Next I return to the station to buy a ticket for my return journey to Amsterdam. I'll take a train at 14:00. Enough time for some dinner and a couple of beers. I feel much better once I've got my ticket and made my seat reservations. Look at me - taking care of myself. What a hero I am.

On the way to the station I noticed a Paulaner pub. Seems like a good spot for lunch.

Paulaner Im Pillhofer
Königstrasse 78,
90402 Nürnberg.
Tel +49.911.21.45.60
http://www.pillhofer.net/

One of the reasons I'm staying a night in Nürnberg is to gather information for my Nürnberg Pub Guide. I've never visited most of the pubs in it. This is a good opportunity to put that right. My plan for the afternoon is to crawl around everywhere I have listed in the city centre, taking photographs and drinking the odd beer. Or two.

Paulaner isn't the most exciting beer, but their tied houses are usually pretty nice places. The food is good, too. I have one particular food in mind. One of my Bavarian favourites that you don't see much in Franconia: Weisswürst. Sure enough, it's on the menu. Disappointingly, my waitress isn't wearing a dirndl. It looks like she has the figure for it, but the way she's dressed she looks more like a lesbian lumberjack. A shame.

On the wall there's a picture showing two building with a pile of rubble between them. I think this is the pile of rubble. Looks like it sustained a direct hit in WW II. They've done done a bad job of rebuilding it. The pub is cosy, in a very Bavarian way. For a Paulaner house, it's very small: only about the same size as a normal pub. The other's I've been in were all enormous.

Let's see if you can guess which beer I order. Dunkles, that's right. Goes nicely with Weisswurst. I'll have to add that to my list of beer and food pairings. Guinness FES with curry, Paulaner Dunkles with Weisswurst. It's not a very long list.

Paulaner Dunkles: mid brown colour, sweetish taste, toffee, caramel and pepper flavours. Bland compared to Franconian Dunkles, but it'll do while I'm eating my Weisswurst. Just 40 out of 100.

Stomach full and the required minimum alcohol level in my blood, it's time to explore. How exciting. I haven't really done any research on the trip, except in Prague. I'm not planning on stopping in the first couple of places. They're Tucher outlets. Not my favourite beer. I'll use up the number of beers I can drink today on something more rewarding.

As soon as I set off, I notice how the tour has knocked the stuffing out of me. I'm knackered. I feel even more knackered when I remember that I need to climb the hill at the far side of town. That'll be fun. At least it's a nice day.


Tucher-Bräu am Opernhaus
Am Kartäusertor 1,
90402 Nürnberg.
Tel. 0911 - 204649
http://www.tucherbraeuamopernhaus.com/

Just a photography stop.


Zum Gulden Stern
Zirkelschmiedsgasse 26,
90402 Nürnberg.
Tel: 0911 - 205 928
http://www.bratwurstkueche.de/

Another photo only visit. Very brothers Grimm, but for some reason it doesn't appeal.

I'm tempted by a pub with a sign from a brewery I've not heard of. There's just the barmaid and one customer who's eating his dinner. I order an Export. The beer fizzes like crazy. Then I notice why: the bottom isn't very clean. It didn't taste very nice even before I realised. Wonderful. The pub has a typically soulless 1960's or 70's interrior. I hurry to finish off as much of my pint as I can stomach. I told you that I hate wasting even horrible beer.

Steichele Hotel Restaurant Weinhaus
Knorrstrasse 2-8,
Nürnberg.
Tel. 0911 - 202 280
http://www.steichele.de

My next photo opportunity is at Steichele. It looks quite pleasant and I need something to wash the nasty taste of that last Export out of my mouth. Inside it's a jumble of small rooms with long pine-topped tables. I call this brewhouse style, because that's the type of furniture the homebrew houses in Cologne and Duesseldorf. I sit at a table. A waitress rushing past points to the reserved sign on it. I select another table. The rather bossy middle-aged waitress comes back for my order. She gives me a disdainful look when I order a small beer and repeats my order for confirmation "You want a SMALL beer?" Yes, I do want a small one. I'm not some raving alcoholic. I've another six pubs to get around this afternoon. She is wearing a dirndl but doesn't have the figure for it. Sometimes it's disturbing how sexy grannies can look in a dirndl. Is that just me? My waitress is about the least sexy thing I've ever seen in a dirndl. That's quite an achievement.

Gräfenberger Landbier: amber colour, pepper, grass and caramel flavours. I'm starting to realise how spoiled I've been the last few days this is OK, but nowt special. We passed through the town of Gräfenberg yesterday and it looked lovely. Wonder what the beer's like there? 52 out of 100.

This place is pretty nice. The windows have wonderful leaded glass designs. I like the one with the fat bloke and a beer barrel so much that I photograph it. But I'm not staying long. Loads more pubs to photograph.

I leave through a different entrance and notice that a large, ugly modern hotel part has been tacked on the side. It's a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde place: cosy and traditional; modern and bland bordering on hideous. I'm glad I didn't approach it from the new side. I probably wouldn't have bothered going in.


My destination is the Schwarzer Bauer brewpub, but, as I have to photograph some other pubs, my route is rather tortuous. The streets in Nürnberg's old town aren't very straight in any case.

I spot Landwehr. From its exterior, I doubt I would have bothered dropping in for a drink, even if it had been open. Looks pretty dismal.

I cross the river. Very scenic. Some parts of Nürnberg are very pretty. Henry, a schoolfriend, lived here while he was working at a US air base. He was here for more than a year, yet never made it to Bamberg. I've never let him forget that.

I'm now at the bottom of the hill at whose summit is the castle. Knackered as I'm feeling, I don't relish the prospect of walking up it. This seems to be the tourist end of town, as opposed to the town end of town where I'm staying. Loads of Albrecht Durer stuff. The older buildings, built from flushed pink stone and with ornamental bay windows on the upper floors, are quite charming. I snap a few of them. I'm always photographing buildings. Almost none of my photos have people in them. At least not if I can help it. Quite often some bastard walks past just as the shutter is opening.

Oh look - there's a second-hand bookshop. I wonder if they have any old brewing manuals? Let's have a look. I search the shelves but can't find a beer or brewing section. I ask the lass on the till if they anything about beer. She calls an older bloke, who I assume is the owner. He disappears for a couple of seconds and comes back with three books. Only one was on display. I decide to puchase two - "Besteuerung des Hausbrauwesens in Bayern" and "Die Behandlung und Pflege des Bieres". 20 and 18 euros respectively. What a bargain. The first is full of statistics. The perfect sort of light reading for a train journey.

I'm about half way up the hill. Not much further to go. I've been meaning to visit Alt Stadt Hof, or Schwarzer Bauer (as the pub is really called) for many, many years. I hope it isn't shut. That would be a bummer. Especially after dragging myself up this bloody hill.

Schwarzer Bauer
Bergstr. 19,
90403 Nürnberg.
Tel. 0911 - 227 217
http://www.altstadthof.de/

My fears prove unfounded and Schwarzer Bauer is indeed open. It's not as big as I expected, just a single, small, square toom that a bar counter bites a big chunk out of. It's in brewhouse style. There that relieves me of any more furniture descriptions. I sit at a table by the window, after checking for a reserved sign. There isn't one. The Barmaid isn't wearing a dirndl either.

I'm not a great fan of new German brewpubs. Most brew the dullest beers imaginable: Helles, Dunkles and Weizen. The Helles and Dunkles are almost always sold way too green. Don't they understand the word lager? Altstatdhof Hof is one of the few with a good reputation. Let's see if they deserve it.

Dunkles: can't see the colour (it's in a steinkrug), sweet taste with roast, dates, cream and toffee flavours. Rather nice. I think I'll have another. 72 out of 100.

I order a second and take a look at the local paper. There's an article about "Smokers' Clubs" Apparently 200+ of 1500 pubs have taken this option. It's such an obvious fiddle that the authorities are considering tightening up the law. Bloody right! They aren't really members only clubs, as my experience earlier in the day at Hebendanz proved.


I carry on a bit further up the hill. I have another two pubs close by that I need to photograph. The first, Albrecht Dürer (Bergstr. 25), looks pretty crappy. Why exactly is that in my guide? Aaah, they have a house beer. Looking at it, I'm quite surprised. Is this really the right place? Further on, opposite a section of city wall is the next. This looks more like it - a traditional pub and beer garden.

Photos taken, I look around the little square. One building has a pretty cool statue of George and the Dragon sticking out of the first floor. Further along, there's a Franconia fan shop. They have a great slogan on many articles: "Frei Statt Bayern". I'm so proud that I actually get this German pun. Watching all those episodes of Tatort has finally borne fruit. (Freistaat Bayern - Free State of Bavaria - is the offical name of Bavaria. Frei Statt Bayern means "Free instead of Bavarian". Franconia was given by Napoleon to Bavaria, which was one of France's most loyal allies in the Napoleonic Wars. Many Franconians still don't consider themselves Bavarian.)

Hütt'n
Burgstrasse 19,
Nürnberg.
Tel: 0911 - 201 9881
http://www.huettn-nuernberg.de/

My next stop, Hütt'n is only a few metres down the hill on my route back into town. Outside, it's a typical Nürnberg building. That's a good sign. Unlike the bloody road sign that gets in the way and prevents me from taking the photo I want to. Bad sign. I go in.

This isn't what I had expected. What the hell is all this timber framing about? Does it have a purpose, other than to make the interior look shit? The staff are eating their lunch. One still serves me. Thanks mate. There are no other customers. I really can pick them. Being a misanthrope, I have no problem with drinking alone. I prefer it that way. At home, I'm never alone. I appreciate the opportunity for some peace and quiet.

Neder Braunbier: too knackered to write tasting notes. Sorry.

I suppose it's worth coming by for the selection of Franconian beer which, though small by Belgian or Dutch standard, is broad for Germany. I don't linger. Things to do, places to sleep. That's what I feel like doing. My hotel is right the way across the other side of the old town. At least in this direction it's all downhill.

The walk takes me through the main shopping district. How exciting. Is there anything I need to buy? A complete new wardrobe might be an idea. But I'm not allowed to purchase clothes without Dolores along. There aren't any pubs worth investigating that I pass. Mostly it's just shops.

Until I'm almost done. I notice that the tower house whose photo adorns my pub guide now has a restaurant in the cellar. It sells Nürnberger Bratwurst and St Gerorgen Kellerbier. I call that a winning combination. I was wondering where I was going to eat tomorrow. Problem solved. Andrew will be gutted when I tell him. He loves Nürnberger Bratwurst.

I get back to my hotel. My room is on the first floor, so I use the stairs. Walking along the corridor I notice that the lift doors are open and a couple of workmen are fiddling with it using heavy duty tools. It's stuck between two floors. That must be what all the clunking was about earlier.

My plans for this evening are modest. I've done enough walking for today. I'll eat in the pub in the ground floor of the hotel. But first time for some hardcore dozing in front of the telly.

The workmen are still tinkering with the lift when I go to eat.

Kloster Andechs - Das Wirtshaus
Königstrasse 55,
90402 Nürnberg.
Tel: 0911 - 236 9844

There used to be a chain of Andechs pubs, but most have changed name and stopped selling Andechs beer. This is the one exception.

It's a long, narrow beerhally-type place (after a week on the road my descriptive powers have been severly impaired). The effect is only spoiled by industrial-strength silver ducting hanging from the ceiling. Lovely. I take a seat close to the entrance after checking carefully for any reserved signs. I don't want another telling off.

When the waitress comes she voices no criticism of my behavious. She's dressed in rather dull all black. No more dirndls today. I order a Dunkles.

I don't understand quite why Andechs is so highly-rated by many beer-lovers. Their beers are OK, but I can think of loads that are much better. Probably the fact that they're available in the States. They have the full set on draught here.

Andechser Dunkles: even more watery than the Paulaner. The menu describes it as a "light version of our Doppelbock". I'll have to remember that, Light Doppelbock.

The menu is surprisingly short. I choose lamb shank. Should be good. And it comes with a Klose. I haven't had one of those for a couple of days. I like to get dumplinged up while in Germany. Though why is a bit of a mystery. Dolores is perferctly capable of cooking them.

The meal turns out to be about the worst I've had this trip. It wasn't horrible or anything, just a bit flat and dull.

I don't stay out late. There's a long train ride tomorrow. I don't want to be knacked before I start. I notice that the lift is still bust as I go back to my room.

Breakfast Beer

Forchheim
One of the most memorable experiences of the tour last year was a breakfast session with Stonch in Forchheim. I'd love to repeat the fun this year, so after checking out of the hotel, Andy drives us all into the town centre. These are my last few minutes on the tour.

If you look carefully at the photo to the right, you can see three brewery taps. How wonderful. Is there anywhere else in the world you can get a photo like this?


Hebendanz
Sattlertorstrasse 14,
91301 Forchheim.
Tel. 09191-60747

While the others look at the WW I was memorial outside the town hall, I quickly dive into Hebendanz. It's one of my all-time favourite pubs. Purely because of the nutters who inhabit it. There's a disconcerting sign on the door "Smokers Club - members only". Bum. Another sign seems to say that guests are welcome. I decide top take a chance, enter and sit at a table. It's the same young barman as last year. He seems pretty normal, which makes him look out of place.

"You're not a member, are you sir?" (I suppose what he means is "You don't totally radged yet, so you can't be a local".) "You'll need to sign in." He passes me a slip of paper and a pen. A couple of scribbles later and I'm a member for the day.

Unsurprisingly, every other customer is smoking. There are quite a few of them, spread around the room. Most are on their own, sucking on a fag and staring at their pint. What a cheerful bunch. I order a Hebendanz Export, which comes fresh from a barrel on the bar. It looks absolutely wonderful. It's almost worth enduring the fag smoke for. I wonder where the white ghost is? Probably dead. He looked pretty unhealthy. He might upset him if he is still alive. I'm sitting in his seat.

Hebendanz Export: golden colour, sweetish/bitterish taste, honey, pepper and resin flavours. Light and very drinkable. Surprisngly sweet for a Franconian beer. I give in 62 out of 100.

I'm hidden around a corner, so Keith doesn't spot me when he pokes his head in the door. I slurp my beer down more quickly than it deserves. I have very little time and I want to get to Neder, too. Greif is once again closed. Why do I never catch it open?


Neder
Sattlertorstrasse 10,
91301 Forchheim.
Tel. 09191 - 2400

The atmosphere is much better in Neder in every sense. Clean air and customers who don't look a hour away from suicide. The others are sitting with a beer in front of them. Soon I'm with them with a beer of my own.

Neder Export: )I don't know what colour it is, because it's served in a Steinkrug: my guess would be golden) sweetish/bitterish taste, pepper, grass, resin and cream flavours. This must be the perfect breakfast beer: light but tasty, refreshing and not too cold. I could sit here till dinnertime. I score it 70 out of 100.

It's quite busy here. too. Lot's of 50- and 60-somethings eating their breakfast. Each has bread and packages of sausage and cheese. They brought it with them. Is this allowed? It certainly is. There's even a sign in the window to encourage you. What a civilised place. This is how I dream of living after retirement: a few quiet beers with breakfast every morning. Lucky bastards, living in a town like Forchheim. I plan joining them when I finally say goodbye to work.

I only have time for the one, sadly. Andy needs to press on and he's giving me a lift to the station. It's quite emotional saying goodbye to the group. The last few days have been memorable and a whole load of fun. We've shared some great beer, too.

The minibus drives off and I make my way to the ticket counter. "Ein Einzelfahrt nach Nürnberg, bitte." I'll have to look after myself from now on. It's a bit like getting divorced. I just need a few more beers to dull the pain. I wonder if I'll be able to find any in Nürnberg? I wonder if I really do have a hotel reservation? Find out next time....

The last day

Windischeschenbach
Though it sometimes seems as if we've been on the road for several weeks, the final day has still come too quickly. The final day for me, that is. The others have a few more days to go.

After breakfast we drive to Windischeschenbach to have a look at their communal brewery. Andy thinks he knows where it is. He's wrong. But as we're driving down the high street, Keith spots a tractor pulling the Zoigl trailer. Andy turns around and tries to give chase, but we've lost it. Bum.

We still can't find the brewery. Andy stops and asks an old bloke. He gives a pretty incoherent reply, but Andy does his best to follow them. No luck. Andy tries another local, who gives a completely different set of instructions. This doesn't look good. "Why don't we just check the street the tractor came out of?" asks Keith. It's a pretty good suggestion. No, it's better than that. It's the perfect suggestion. We find the brewery at the end of the side street.

It's nothing like as grand as the communal brewery we saw yesterday. There's a worryingly large crack in the wall. A spillage just in front of it suggests the trailer really had just been filled with wort. I peer through the window, but can't see much. Today there's no friendly Zoigl man around to unlock the door for us. I walk over a small stream to get a good shot of the side of the building. It's bigger than it appears form the entrance, but not much.

We explore a little further and find another brewery. It's tiny, too, but is commercial. I manage to get a photo of the inside when a worker comes out. After he's disappeared the place is deserted, as is the adjacent pub.

That's it for Zoigl country. We're now headed back to Franconia. Things could be worse. Much, much worse.


Klosterbrauerei Weissenohe
Klosterstr. 20,
91367 Weißenohe.
Tel: 09192 - 591
http://www.klosterbrauerei-weissenohe.de/

We're now retracing part of the route from last year's Franconian tour. First stop is Weißenohe. "I wonder if the conical fermenter will still be lying outside?" I say jokingly. It is.

I'm looking forward to this. Last time here I was feeling well below par, having stayed up way too late the night before. I drank my first two beers through gritted teeth.

The bar is deserted. The others have gone to look at some church. This is my church. Just as Costcutters is for Jeremy. I think mine's way superior, as it serves four different draught beers. Which Costcutters that does that? Or church. Eventually a barman shows up and I order a Dunkles. I stay true to tradition right to the bitter end.

Klosterbrauerei Weißenohe Export Dunkel: pale brown colour, sweetish taste, nuts, pepper and toffee flavours. It's pretty good, apart from being too fizzy. Both malt and hops are present - very nicely balanced. 66 out of 100.

The others have turned up. That was a pretty brief church visit. Keith orders the sampler set of draught beers. Very cute they look in their tall and elegant 20 cl glasses. I'm in so much better form than last time. That Dunkles didn't last long. I order a Altfränkisch.

Klosterbrauerei Weißenohe Altfränkisch: amber colour, sweetish taste, caramel, honey, fruit and grass flavours. Like a slightly hoppier Märzen. OK if you like that sort of thing. I score it 57 out of 100.

A group of girls comes in. They look perfect for Andy - they all have lovely grey hair.

We don't linger that long. We need to be at Hofmann for dinner.


Brauerei Hofmann
Nr. 16,
91322 Hohenschwärz.
Tel.: 9192 - 251

I'm so excited. Hofmann was one of my favourite stops last year.

Considering it's a Wednesday, the bar is pretty full of diners. We've just caught the end of the dinner service and there isn't a great deal left. No matter, I get bratkartoffel and three bratwurst.

Hofmann Export: Dark brown colour, bitterish taste; roast, butter, cream and pepper flavours. A very distinctive beer, but difficult to describe. A bit of roast, a bit of hop, abit of butter. I score in 75 out of 100.

I'm not a great believer in all this crap about beer and food pairing. Drink what you want and eat what you like is my philosophy. I suppose concern for matching food and drink provides employment for some. Having said that, the spud and sausage goes really well with Frau Hofmann's Dunkles Export. But I love the beer so much, I'd drink it with anything. A couple of half litres throw themselves down my throat. Honestly. I don't remember pouring them in there.

After we've eaten Frau Hofmann has time to show us around her brewery. Even this seemingly irrepressible woman is a bit down about raw material shortages. She's had to raise the price of her beer from 1.70 to 1.90 a half litre. A kilo of hops that only cost 7 euros last year she now has to pay 44 euros for. The price of 100 kilos of malt has also risen by 30 euros. I don't get the impression that beer is making her a fortune even at this price. If it were, she wouldn't be cooking as well as brewing.

The brewery is housed in a building that resembles a barn. Inside there's a small, but perfectly-formed, brewery. Right at the end of the trip, I've rememberd that my camera has a video function. It saves me taking notes while I interrogate Frau Hofmann. Publishing the video here also saves me the trouble of transcribing what she said. There's really no downside to this. Except that you'll get to hear my voice. I'm the twat asking questions in really poor German.

One point she does clear up: her beer isn't 100% Vienna malt. That is the base malt, but she uses some a small amount of carafa malt, too, less than 1%. The hops are Hallertauer. The yeast comes from Brauerei Kitzmann in Erlangen and is re-used 2 or 3 times.

She brews 2 or 3 times a a week, The batch size is 26 hl. The primary fermentation is in open vessels at 7º C and lasts 8 days. The beer is lagered for 8 to 10 weeks at 4-5º C at a pressure of 0.6 bar.


Hotel-Gasthof Schweizergrom
Röthenstraße 5,
91301 Forchheim.
Tel.: 09191 - 3955
http://www.hotel-schweizergrom.de/

Just like last time, we're staying at Schweizer Grom in Forchheim. We arrive in the late afternoon and, as usual, Andy is slaking his thirst about 30 seconds later.

Schweizer Grom is a proper pub despite being a hotel. They even make their own sausage. There are plenty of non-resident drinkers in the bar. On draught they don't have a local Forchheim beer, but St Georgen Kellerbier from Buttenheim. That's miles away. It must be 10 kilometres, at least.

The plan is to walk into town after a couple of warm up beers and something to eat. Three or four beers, all enthusiasm for a stroll has dissipated. I forgot to mention that I'd been lugging some of my Whitbread beers around with me. This seemed a good opportunity to sghare one of each with the group. OK, it was the last chance. Never put off until tomorrow what you can leave until next week, is what I say. We borrow glasses from Herr Eisgrub (the landlord) and pop the corks. The others like my beers. Or are at least polite enough to say that they do. I don't care which is true.

The evening disappears in a succession of Kellerbiers. Nothing much out of the ordinary happens, but it's no less fun for that. A week on the road together has made us quite a tight little group. It's going to be strange being back on my own tomorrow. I've got used to Andy handling all the annoying little details like getting us from A to B, arranging the hotels, finding somewhere to eat, paying the bills. How will I cope by myself?

A rather smartly-dressed businesswoman in the age range 35-40 comes and stands at the end of the bar. She orders a meal and a glass of red wine. She's definitely attracted Jim's attention, the old lech. Disappointingly for him, she disappears back to her room with her food and drink.

The last day of the tour is over. For me at least. It's been a wonderful experience. But that isn't quite the end of my trip. Last year a breakfast session in Forchheim with Stonch was just perfect. Can I repeat it? Find out in the next installment.

Zoigl

Back on the motorway, we're soon back in Germany. It's a strange feeling. This the part of the tour I've most keenly anticipated: Zoigl country.

I notice the first Zoigl sign 100 metres before we pull up at our hotel. Sadly, it's swung flat against the wall. No Zoigl there today.

Zum Waldnaabtal
Marktplatz 1 in Neuhaus,
92670 Windischeschenbach.
Tel. +49 (0)9681 / 37 11
http://www.waldnaabtal-hotel.de

Our hotel is also a pub and restaurant. It's in that rustic kitsch style I've learned to love. Set your mind free and seek the beauty within. God, I'm turning into a hippy. I need a beer, quick. The landlord's daughter checks us in. It isn't the last we'll be seeing of her.

Andy takes us over to look at Windischeschenbach. We're staying in its twin town of Neuhaus. The two are separated by a rushing stream. Twin towns is a slight overstatement. The two combined make a pretty small town. Windischeschenbach does at least have a small high street lined with shops. At the end of it we spot the Zoigl trailer. It reminds me of a muck spreader. This is how the wort is transported from the communal brewhouse to the private homes where it's fermented. This is so exciting. Even though it's just sitting by the side of the road. I spot three or four pubs. The plan is for Andy to drive us back over here in about an hour. We should have somewhere to drink.

Back at our hotel, Andy has a chat with the landlord. Yes, he does have Zoigl on. Hooray! Even though the official Zoigl time ended on Sunday (it's Tuesday, if you've lost track). He has a little flyer with the Zoigl schedule for the year printed on it. They're very well organised. Each of the five brewing families in Neuhaus takes it in turns to sell Zoigl Thursday to Sunday. Like I said, it's Tuesday. Once a year (3rd of October in 2008) , all five Zoigl families sell beer simultaneously. I'll mark that date in my calendar.

I have my first glass of Zoigl in front of me. It's a shape of mug I've never seen before - low, wide and with a pattern of raised half spheres. Like the bottom half of a dalek. Andy looks at it with longing I reserve for brewery yards. "Do you really want to go to Windisch tonight? We could just stay here." I can see how his mind's working. I've barely said yes and he's already halfway down his first beer. I can't say I blame him. That Pilsner Urquell tour was enough to drive a teetotaller to drink.

Romantic that I am, I'd expected Zoigl to come straight from a barrel. Having it served by top pressure robbed me of another illusion. Quite a lot of top pressure, too. Maybe they're getting close to the end of the barrel. I've once had Zoigl before - bottled, 18 months ago (thanks again Sebastian). It was absolutely wonderful, like a really good Franconian Kellerbier. This one is disappointing in comparison. Far from bad, just not as good as my first. (Isn't the same true of most everything? The first is always the most memorable.)

Bahler Zoigl: golden colour, sweetish taste, honey, butter and resin flavours. I score it 59 out of 100.

We're the only customers in the pub. The landlord's daughter comes over. She tells Andy that she can take us to the Zoigl house now. It isn't far. Just next to where Andy's parked the minibus opposite the hotel. It looks just like all the other houses in the street, except there's a small green sign saying Zoigl on the big double doors to the courtyard. Inside we can see that it's a farmhouse with various outbuildings. A friendly, youngish chap in overalls welcomes us. He's the farmer/Zoigl brewer.

He takes us to see his brewery. It's in quite a small room adjacent to the courtyard entrance. Along one wall is an open fermenter. There's a healthy-looking scum on top of it. On the oppsite wall are stainless steel lagering tanks. The whole space is smaller than my bedroom. And I don't live in a palace.

Here's what he told me about the brewing process.

- the beer is left in the coolship in the communal brewery overnight and transported to someone's house the next morning

- primary fermentation is at 6-8º C and lasts 7 days

- lagering is for 20 days at 8º C

- he brew 22 hl 10 times a year

"Do you want to see my Zoiglstube?" Are bears catholic? Course we blooming do. It's behind the brewing area, along one side of the inner courtyard. "It used to be a barn" There's enough agricultural equipment lying around the yard to convince me this is still a genuine farm. Diversification really is the name of the game in rural Bavaria.

The pub is surprisingly spacious, especially considering it's only open a couple of days each month. You guessed - more rustic kitsch. Pale pine is everywhere. At one end is a tiny bar with a single beer tap. He pours us a Zoigl each. "Would you like to try a special schnapps?" Am I a catholic wood? "It's called Hopfengold." I'm not quite sure if any hops are involved in its manufacture. I'm too busy slurping it down to ask. It's 56% ABV and I experience a pleasant warm feeling as it progresses towards my gut. I've just about totally forgotten about that godawful Urquell tour.

Mrs. Brewer/Farmer comes in and has a short but totally incomprehensible conversation with Mr. Brewer/Farmer. His German was pretty normal when he spoke to us just now. This is full-strength dialect. I literally don't understand a single word. Just as well he made an effort with us.

The tour isn't finished yet. "Do you want to see the communal brewhouse?" He keeps asking us questions with only one possible answer. Maybe it's all a clever trick. We'll be so used to nodding our heads enthusiastically that when he asks us if we want to hand over our wallets we'll say yes, too. It isn't far to the communal brewhouse. It looks like a shed. Not a particularly grand shed. There's a tiny plaque explaining what it is and a bit of its history. He unlocks the door and we enter.

I've been around lots of breweries. Quite a lot of them in the last 5 days. This is about the least grand I've seen. It looks like a shed inside, too. It reminds me of the Museumbrauerei in Singen, which I suppose isn't all that far away. Except this one doesn't have a steam engine. It doesn't have a full set of brewing equipment. No fermenters or lagering tanks, which reduces the clutter a fair bit. The copper is directly fired by a furnace underneath it. On the first floor there's a shallow cool ship of a type you very rarely see nowadays. Well not in use. You do see them in museums. This one is still very much part of the equipment in active use.

They also have one of the little tanker trailers we saw earlier. It has a star of David and "Zoigl" painted on it. It must be a cheering sight to see it being pulled through town. We'll find out more about exactly how cheering tomorrow. But I'm getting ahead of myself again.

We return to the hotel. It's really livened up in the bar. There's an old couple in one corner. Time to eat. There's lots of tempting rustic fare on the menu. Andy and Jim order some meat extravaganza made for two. It sounds like it's going to be an awful lot of food. I pick something that sounds as if it can be eaten by one normal person.

The joint's now really buzzing. Another old couple is sitting in another corner. On the table next to them is a middle-aged bloke with what looks suspiciously like a mail-order oriental bride. They have a baby with them. By the bar the landlord's daughter is playing with what I assume is her child. It's another real family business.

Andy and Jim's food arrives. It's on a plate only slightly smaller than our table. For two? It looks like enough to feed everyone in the pub. There's no way they'll eat all of that. I'm pretty convinced of my ability to polish off my much more modest meal. Filled dalek glasses keep appearing, but are soon emptied. Andy orders a Weizen. What's wrong with him? You can drink Weizen anywhere, but not Zoigl.

I was right - Andy and Jim admit defeat with their giant plate far from empty. We're soon alone again. The other customers only came in to eat and disappear quickly. I can't remember what time it is when we call it a day. It's not that late.

The day has been long and varied. Seeing both bits of a Zoigl operation has been exciting. It contrasts nicely with (and makes up for) the mind-aching tedium of Pilsner Urquell. Tomorrow is my last day on the tour. Will it be an anticlimax? The next installment will reveal all.