In a previous job, I had to visit our offices in Stoke. With the CAMRA beer festival venue close by, I made sure that I scheduled a trip to the Potteries at just the right time. Nowadays my Friday outings are few and far between, so this year I took a Saturday trip to Stoke instead.

With an early-ish arrival into town, I headed for the nearest Spoons. I remember The Wheatsheaf when it was fairly dingy music venue in the eighties; sticky floors, loads of pillars to stagger into and all the ambiance of an underground car park during a power failure. Now it's a light and airy pub with some great guest beers. I scooped the Riverhead Liquorice Stout simply because it sounded interesting - and what an awesome flavour it had. Bags of dusty brown liqourice with unsurprising coffee and mild chocolate hints.

It's only a two minute walk from the Spoons to the festival venue (King's Hall) so I trogged off and joined the queue. Thankfully not much of a queue, just a few hardy topers braving the chilly breeze. Full comedy marks go to the guy behind me who attempted to whistle the theme tune to 'The Littlest Hobo' but ended up on the theme tune from 'The Monkees'.

With doors open, I grabbed a glass and flew upstairs to secure a seat by the foreign bar. But there were no seats set out - AARRGH! So, back downstairs to grab a piece of the stage before any band arrived. The King's Hall is an impressive space, a stage set at one end with a balcony at the other and a superb ornate ceiling. With the brass band not due on for a while, at least the stage edge gave me somewhere to lean against.

The issue with beer festivals on their last day is that you've really got no idea what's going to be available, even if beers have been held back for that day. That doesn't bother me too much anymore; random beers have an attraction and if the choice was uninspiring I'd just hop back on the train and carry on drinking in Derby. Thankfully I could start with one of my favourite beers - so with a half of Thornbridge Kipling secured, I went for a wander around the bars to see what was left.

Surprisingly, there were quite a few of my preferred beers still knocking around. Better still, the festival seemed to gain a second after about an hour when some weighty beers suddenly seemed to become available. Every beer was in good nick and I was able to Reluctantly Scoop six new beers;

- Beowulf Killer Stout; a parched-dry stout with obvious alcohol
- Crouch Vale Wild Hop; slightly sweet, fairly crisp
- Lymestone Stone The Crows; strong autumnal ale with roasty wheat in there?
- Oakleaf I Can't Believe It's Not Bitter; citrus zest and a sweet vein
- Pictish Z Rod; a well-balanced pale ale
- Titanic Maple Smith; Captain Smith with added maple syrup; malty, sweety, not cloying

As well as the tried and trusted Thornbridge, I was happy to sink a half of Falstff Wilko, one of my favourite barley wines. It's only supposed to be brewed during the Rugby World Cup or Six Nations, so I don't know if this has been knocking around a while or Falstaff have decided to brew it for the winter. Either way, I'm glad to get another taster of it - aggressive alcohol cuts across the malt from start to finish.

I didn't find the food outlet here - it was probably lurking down one of the hospital-like corridors. Fortunately I bought a pork pie with me (a fairly crumbly Melton job from Sainsburys). Yummier were the almond croissants (from Sainsburys as well), I used to have these every time I visited Stoke when I used to work for a nearby college.

As the Audley Brass Band took to the stage, I took off to the cider bar. Plenty still left here - and I don't know if this is just a Midlands thing but the ciders and perrys all seemed to be great value in comparison to the price of strong beers. I was happy to try the Ross on Wye whisky casked dry cider again and it didn't disappoint.

To round out the festival, I took a trip upstairs to check out the foreign bar. Nothing really grabbed my fancy, though I was tempted by the Hopsinjoor that I tried back in July at Derby's fest. Sadly they'd sold out of Gouden Carolus Cuvee van der Kaiser, a bottle of which I usually buy here and drink at Christmas.

A surprisingly good festival, this; I knew the beer quality would be good but didn't honestly expect such a range of great beers to still be available on the festival's third day. By two o'clock it was busy but not cramped and still offered quick service at the bar. With my pick of the beers polished off, I had enough time left to pop down the road to Titanic Brewery's new pub, the White Star, for a decent pint of Captain Smith's alongside a bacon & cheese stuffed oatcake.

It's been enjoyable to find a festival in fine fettle on a Saturday and a couple of good pubs within sixty seconds of each other. I'm overdue a trip around the six towns; I certainly won't leave it a year before I visit Stoke again.
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The first fest of 2009 offered old favourites, new breweries, too much Paradox and a Man With Several Plans. The panto is still in full swing so Derby's topers all squeezed into the Darwin Suite for three days of fun. Unless you were that poor sod of a photographer who didn't seem to entice anyone into having their portrait taken. Is that beer cloudy? Oh no it isn't! Oh yes it is! And repeat until the bar staff call security....


Thursday night

A simple plan; get train to Derby, eat chips, join queue, rent glass, drink beer, drink beer, repeat until bored / nine o'clock / I fall over. But, as the famous quote goes; "The best laid plans of mice and men / Are shafted to boggery by National Rail's winter timetable changes". My train now ran twenty minutes later than planned, so instead I caught the Spondon Flyer into town, having first stopped off at a nearby chippy. The delightful assistant, whose name may or may not have been Samantha,was more than happy to serve me. Indeed, she smiled broadly whilst taking my sausage out of her hotbox.

The fest is held in a compact and bijou venue, the Darwin Suite of the Assembly Rooms. With limited seating in the suite and the festival's official reception taking up the 'quiet' room, I grabbed a beer and pitched up by the catering area within earshot of hot food slopping and a daft old racist ticker.

Eventually, the smell of the ticker and the sound of the food drove me back to the bar. Approaching the doors, I was greeted with a hefty cheer of "1-2-3-4!". No, not a particularly thirsty toper ordering multiple drinks. This was Verbal Warning, a punk covers band who (refreshingly for a band of their era) didn't need flashcards to help count that far. Though it was a tad depressing to find that the audience of similarly aged gents were mostly sitting down... tapping their toes.

Several beers later I was contemplating escape when I bumped into came Comrade Brian and Cycling John. Making the most of their late passes, they'd just been to see the film Che at Quad and had popped over for a drink. They forced me to stop for a few more beers (honest) so we put the world to rights by the continental bar in an ever-busier foyer.

And those beers:

The Good: Dunham Massey Chocolate Cherry Mild and the ever-sublime
Thornbridge Saint Petersburg.

The Not Bad: Dunham Massey Winter Warmer and Derventio Barbarian

The Mistaken: possibly Wirksworth Sunbeam as it certainly wasn't St Austell Tribute Extra (ruddy lovely it was, mind)

The Indifferent: Wild Walker Old Big 'ead and Great Escape (plain stuff
from a new Derby brewery; let's give them time to find their feet).


Friday night

An even-simpler plan tonight; drink Brewdog Paradox, watch Blurb. First part of the plan was executed commendably - half-pints of Smokehead were downed with metronomic regularity throughout the evening. But Blurb.... they were supposed to be on first but instead there was a shouty bloke standing in front of some bored-looking musicians. That'll be Kaiser Thiefs, then. Now, if you're going to ape Ricky Wilson it would be ideal to look like him..... STRIKE ONE! OK, at least act like him.... STRIKE TWO! But it's a tribute band so he'll probably sound like him... STRIKE THREE! YOUROUTTAHERE! Well, I was. And so were a few others. Particularly when he forgot the words.

Tonight, this place was HEAVING. The bar was four-deep, the foyer packed, even the 'quiet' room was busy (albeit those present looked like they were auditioning to fill a chair in an old people's home). Old friends were literally bumped into (Oliver with his mate Matt), Ol being naffed off that all the Jaipur had gone - it flies off bars whenever it's on, even before Thornbridge's profile-raising spot on BBC's Drink to Britain programme. Oliver reminded me to mention that I walked (i.e. fell) into a six-foot tall freestanding CAMRA poster and went for a spectacular pratfall. Cheers, Ol, I'd almost forgotten that ;-)

With my beer goggles now calibrated firmly into their 'only have eyes for Smokehead' mode, the Brewdog was starting to seep into my soul. This Paradox lived up to its name abundantly. There's plenty enough of a phenolic fright but the flavour retains Riptide's smooth vanilla and chocolate notes.

Into the sweaty maelstrom of the foyer arrived my oppo, Scott, and his wife Mary along with their friends Vicky and Matthew. Mary handed me a copy of Norfolk Nips, a CAMRA magazine. I told her that I'd always wanted to get my hands on her Nips. I'm not sure if she heard me as I didn't get the belt round the chops that such a gag usually elicits.

... meanwhile, Blurb had apparently taken to the stage. I was considering insertion into the sardine-like throng of the Darwin Suite when Oliver told me it was the same band as before... they'd just changed into tracksuits. What a swizz. Back to the Paradox and the banter, then. What that banter was, I have no precise idea, but the last hours were highlighted by the others taking some sterling photos through the bottom of a beer glass and me being unable to operate Scott's sliding telephone. I mean a telephone that slides open to reveal a keypad. Not a telephone that slides down stair banisters. Honest, Scott. (btw - did you see the photos I took on it???)

With drinks drained and late buses to catch, I weaved my way home. And went to the fridge and opened a bottle of Punk IPA. Like you do at midnight, having drank stupendous amounts of 10% stout for six hours.

Sleep fell like a sumo wrestler through a balsawood dojo.

Saturday lunchtime

The simplest plan of all today; me and the missus drink whatever the hell we want to. Accompanied by whomsoever washed up by our table in the 'quiet' room. That's 'quiet' as in no music; you still get the over-loud ticker, the grumpy non-drinking spouse and the hyperactive child who's in need of colliding with a sharp table edge in order to calm them down.

Long-time fellow festival mucker DJ Monarch aka Neil hauled himself over from deepest darkest Cheshire to share a few beers. As a five-a-side football player, striking a glut of goals recently had gone to his head - literally, as he was now sporting the rather fetching Wayne Rooney Shawn Spud hairdo. Ideal for a freezing January, Neil ;-)

He was accompanied by a couple of friends he'd met at the Great American Beer Festival last year. Who are Argentinian football league supporters. Living in Derby. Who also support Nottingham Forest. Seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up even if I'd been drinking.

Rebecca tucked into a Fentimans Dandelion & Burdock early doors before enjoying some lovely local cider (Three Cats Sweet) and a fair few glasses of Dunkertons Medium perry. And she picked some random numbers for me to order beer b, which resulted in some interesting revisitations for me like John Thompson XXX bitter and the Cascade-whiff of Purity Pure UBU.

The other beers this session of real note included:

Ashover All Saints - almost-wit with just enough orange peel shavings to
lift it on the palate.

Arbor Oyster Stout - really, really smooth stout that actually had the oyster smack that many beers of this style lack

Leadmill Louisiana - proper ashen porter with a hint of smoke

Funfair Blueberry Stout - well, it's got a vineous, hedgerow edge to it; not massively blueberry but still topper toper tasty

Brunswick Regimental IPA - first tried in October 2008 at the Brunnie's
fest, this has matured enough for the hops to infuse and produce a cleaner, even drop.

Falstaff Tennent - I'm not a fan of the constant tinkering of recipes at Falstaff but if it leads to beers like this, tinker on! Bags of fresh hops on the nose, lush citrics climbing through the malt, the kind of beer that Falstaff ought to brew every year when they get the new crop US hops in.

Another great Derby Winter fest. The season has now begun, though I won't be going to as many CAMRA festivals as usual this year (no, honest, I know I've been saying that for years but this year I mean it. Probably). I'll be visiting a few favourite fests in the evenings and weekends but I'm on the lookout for a fest further away that I usually venture - let's say two hours away by train from Derby. So, if anyone could recommend a Home Counties / West Yorkshire fest of fun, let me know.

More photos on Flickr



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