Beer, locomotives and beards
Friday night was rail ale at barrow hill in chesterfield. I hadto get up at 5am with M to be delivered to his parents house so I was ready,in chesterfield when the time came.
About 6:30 we headed out, me M, Phil and their dad to the Arkwright, for a swift one then out with a handful of other real ale fans to the bus stop. We had our own bus laid on at 7:10pm, and it took us door to door, and returned us at 10:15 to the arkwright in plenty of time for last orders.
Rail Ale itself was great, my first real ale festival, you get a commemorative half pint glass and buy beer tokens. You then go through your guide book, decide what you fancy and headup forit. I started with "Time Warp Again" which had undertones of banana and caramel, it smelled rank but was delicious.
The beard turn out was dissapointing, however one gentleman, sporting a fabulous beard, was very obliging when i asked if I could photograph his facial decoration. Yay for freindly bearded men. Interesting fact, I used to have a phobia of beards, i didn't really get over it until my teens, I have only ever been romantically linked to one person with facial hair and we lived together for a while. My first dentist had a beard and it wasn't until we changed dentists that mum discovered it wasn't the dentist itself i was afraid of, but the beard!!
Ostentatious facial ornament!
Anyway, oddly none of us got very drunnk, but M and I both bought cheesy t-shirts, mine asks, "do my boobs look big in this" which is a silly question, but hey.
Saturday was mostly quiet, but we did get sucked into the Eurovision song contest, it's a peculiar form of self abuse, made bearable only by Terry Wogan's increasingly unguarded commentary. It was one by the Finish heavy metal entry, which is good, because how would you pick between the 23 shades of beige the other countries presented. our own entry was an all time low, a group of nothing special dancers in school unifroms, putting on(i really hope) awful accents and a 40 something in a shell suit jacket singing about school, which he clearly left 30 years ago and the age of 10. I'm not bitter, just terribly saddened that with a pretty damn good british music scene at the moment this pish is the best we have to offer eurovision.
About 6:30 we headed out, me M, Phil and their dad to the Arkwright, for a swift one then out with a handful of other real ale fans to the bus stop. We had our own bus laid on at 7:10pm, and it took us door to door, and returned us at 10:15 to the arkwright in plenty of time for last orders.
Rail Ale itself was great, my first real ale festival, you get a commemorative half pint glass and buy beer tokens. You then go through your guide book, decide what you fancy and headup forit. I started with "Time Warp Again" which had undertones of banana and caramel, it smelled rank but was delicious.
The beard turn out was dissapointing, however one gentleman, sporting a fabulous beard, was very obliging when i asked if I could photograph his facial decoration. Yay for freindly bearded men. Interesting fact, I used to have a phobia of beards, i didn't really get over it until my teens, I have only ever been romantically linked to one person with facial hair and we lived together for a while. My first dentist had a beard and it wasn't until we changed dentists that mum discovered it wasn't the dentist itself i was afraid of, but the beard!!
Ostentatious facial ornament!
Anyway, oddly none of us got very drunnk, but M and I both bought cheesy t-shirts, mine asks, "do my boobs look big in this" which is a silly question, but hey.
Saturday was mostly quiet, but we did get sucked into the Eurovision song contest, it's a peculiar form of self abuse, made bearable only by Terry Wogan's increasingly unguarded commentary. It was one by the Finish heavy metal entry, which is good, because how would you pick between the 23 shades of beige the other countries presented. our own entry was an all time low, a group of nothing special dancers in school unifroms, putting on(i really hope) awful accents and a 40 something in a shell suit jacket singing about school, which he clearly left 30 years ago and the age of 10. I'm not bitter, just terribly saddened that with a pretty damn good british music scene at the moment this pish is the best we have to offer eurovision.
posted by Hageltoast at 6:14 pm
2 Comments:
sounds FUN!
was a good weeked, thanks. :)
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