Aside: BrewDog's IPA is Dead

Having recently read about the Cicerone Certification Program State-side, and with the BrewDog four-pack IPA is Dead sitting in the fridge, I figured a lazy Sunday might be a good time to see what the ole palate's capable of. Keep in mind that, until today, I'd have been hard-pressed to name more than a few varieties of hops -- the famous Saaz, and maybe one or two from Arbor Ales' awesome Single Hop Series. And, believe me, I'd enjoyed many a hop-tastic beer in relative ignorance. Still, for what it's worth, my fledgling notes on BrewDog's excellent pack -- in the order I drank them -- follow. I'll reflect on what I've read since afterwards.

• Motueka: full-on; what I love about Punk.
• HBC: of grass/greens initially; more bitter/acidic later. Less power than Motueka.
• Galaxy: more like Motueka, but again, less power; and brighter, with a citrus tang in the finish.
• Challenger: English, like a bitter, in the nose especially; tons stronger, though, with heavy citrus in the finish.

To be honest, I had some serious, cheeks-puffed-out, arms-raised moments of relief as I read the following on Wikipedia, BrewDog's site, etc.:

• Motueka: Punk is indeed made with New Zealand hops. I couldn't pick out the lemon or lime that BrewDog reference, though.
  
• HBC: I can see what BrewDog are on about with the sweet potato, but only in retrospect.
• Galaxy: really happy with this one as well, 'cause "citrus tang" should've read "grapefruit" -- hindsight again, yes, but you have to understand: my palate is notoriously muddled; getting that much is an accomplishment in my books.
• Challenger: another big win for me: not only pegging the locale, but also the lemon.

On the strength of this result, I think I'll move on to the aforementioned Single Hop Series from Arbor Ales; I know I like their Nelson Sauvin, but Favourite Beers has many shelves of others I've never tried.

Dubrovnik: our last day

Lokrum, off the coast, has peacocks!

Just back from our second round of kayaking -- if you book three tours with Adventure Dubrovnik, the third one is free, and while they offer many different ones, kayaking was calling us: we really enjoyed it, and the sea was much calmer today. Therefore we got to go all the way around Lokrum this time, and get more time in the boat overall.

Luckily, Marko was working again, so we got to chat with him a bit more during our snack break on the beach. We exchanged e-mail addresses at the end of the excursion. I really hope we can meet up with him again when we're in the region (or he's in the UK or Canada).

The view from Lokrum

I'm now sipping the orahovac we bought yesterday -- so much currant, it's like fruit cake in a glass; delish! -- while Tea grabs a shower. The plan for the afternoon is to picnic on Lokrum, away from the crowds; lots of cruise ships in today, it seems.

Oh, I almost forgot: oddly, we've been passing our next-door neighbour, Buffet Škola, by each day, despite its many awards. Running low on breakfast food, we'd made the plan to grab a sandwich there before our 10 a.m. tour. So glad we did. They make their own bread, and my smoked ham sandwich was amazing. Great coffee too. The perfect start to the day.

Well, looks like I'm up next for the shower.

Amazing scenery on the island -- firefighters are the only residents, to preserve this.

Lokrum monastery

Update 7:40 p.m.: We missed the ferry to Lokrum by five minutes, and so, with an hour to wait, decided against the picnic in favour of a quick treat of fried smelts and calamari; amazing! And then we still had almost two hours on the island. Finally, get this: we stop at the most remote bar of the trip, a few minutes before the last ferry back, and get two bottles of Tomislav! I wouldn't've dreamed of it, but Tea asked. It reminded me of a nice ruby mild (even though it's a lager); the beer of the trip, as I predicted, and an awesome way to finish it.

Check out our album for more pictures from the island.

Biking around Konavle

We woke to another absolute scorcher. Marko, one of our guides from yesterday's kayaking, met us outside the Pile Gate for our biking and wine tasting tour. Once the other Scottish couple arrived, we hopped in the Adventure Dubrovnik van, for Gruda, the muncipal capital of the Konavle region.

The equipment -- really nice stuff, too -- was stored in a shipping container on the grounds of the nearby Dubrovački Podrumi winery. The 8 km circuit would bring us back there for the tasting. We enjoyed their award-winning Ragusa white so much, we decided to buy a bottle; only then did we find out that you can buy it there for 30 kn! (That's about £3!)

Beside a war-damaged house -- why are we smiling again?

Our route took us through Ljuta and Lovorno, to a Franciscan monastery near Pridvorje -- where we stopped for a quick lunch under an ancient oak. Once rested, it was time for a bit of off-roading: at one point a lady in a vineyard beside the knee-high grass we were plowing through gestured and shouted something. Tea, who was farther back than me, said she seemed angry, but Marko assured us she simply thought we were lost. (U'm, I know I don't understand Croatian, but... O.K.) On the way back, we stopped near Ljuta to see an old watermill, and replenish our water in the river of the same name. We also picked up a bottle of orahovac, a home-made walnut brandy that the region is famous for, from a small stand outside a restaurant.

Didn't quite make it across -- clearly the bike's fault.

Marko was a fantastic guide: really down-to-earth, with a great sense of humour. You can tell he loves his job, and who wouldn't, out amongst such beautiful landscapes every day. He also dropped tidbits throughout the day; one that stuck with me was passed on from a woman who'd spent time with Australian Aborigines, according to him: when water is in short supply, place a small stone under your tongue; the salivation will keep your mouth moist, easing discomfort and slowing your heart rate. Thankfully, we didn't have need of this today.

And now, for a kip.

Update 9:51 p.m.: We decided to have supper at Lady Pi Pi again. Excellent choice!

Octopus salad appetizer

Seafood platter for two

For more on this trip, check out our album and the dubrovnik label.

Dubrovnik: kayaking and Mexican

We took it easy this morning, packing down plenty of carbs for our kayaking excursion with Adventure Dubrovnik early in the afternoon. Tea and I had a two-person boat, and, happily, got on much better than on that unmentionable canoe trip of yore. Over three hours or so, our guides, Dario and Marko, took us out near Lokrum, to a secluded beach for lunch and snorkeling, and then back to the Old Town. We enjoyed it so much that we booked a cycling and wine tasting tour with them tomorrow.

Once refreshed, we made our way to a Steve McCurry -- of "Afghan Girl" fame -- exhibit at the Dubrovnik Art Gallery; they'd devoted the whole building to it; some really moving pieces, covering his work from the early '80s to the present. Tea particularly liked his Tibet stuff, and I was impressed with what he's done in Afghanistan over thirty years.

Chihuahua Cantina Mexicana

Since we were already outside the wall, we decided to take another stab at that Mexican restaurant. Luckily, Chihuahua Cantina Mexicana was open, and only moderately busy. This place had soul; clearly a labour of love. I'm talkin' the works: funky tunes at just the right volume; walls covered with intriguing art and collages of previous customers havin' a barrel of laughs; and competent, no-nonsense staff. The food, you ask? PHENOM. Seriously, regular readers will know that we've been spoiled on this trip, and, no word of a lie, this meal ranks top shelf; maybe even tops. I'd put the salsa and margaritas against the best back home any day of the week. Bizarre, I know, but there it is.

Check out our album for more pictures from the trip. The dubrovnik label should bring up all the posts, in case you haven't been following along.

Montenegro, and the back of the Walloon bus

The Bay of Kotor

We were up nice 'n' early for our tour; it was neat to walk against the stream of commuters to Dubrovnik's Old Town at that hour. There was a bit of a mix-up with the tour, such that we ended up on a bus with thirty or so French-speaking Belgians. Luckily there were two guides, so the half dozen English speakers were segregated to the back of the bus for translations in the silences. As both Tea and I understand French reasonably well -- particularly the guide's perfectly enunciated Montenegrin-school French -- we got the best of both worlds, with quick questions to our guide where we faltered. (Incidentally, we both agreed that what I'm assuming was Walloon French is very difficult to understand. Before I discovered they were Belgians, I seriously suspected that their native language wasn't French, and that they'd simply booked said tour for its accessibility, etc.)

The Cathedral of Saint Tryphon, in Kotor

Let there be no doubt: the Belgians know how to vacation. After clearing the two border crossings -- Croatia's and Montenegro's -- the agenda called for a quick stop at a petrol station to pick up our local guide; 15 minutes for the toilet, a stretch, etc. I blink, and the station patio bar is full of Belgian couples raising glasses of the local Nik Gold. (Obligatory review: I tried Nikšićko pivo in Budva later that day; unpleasantly metallic at the outset, with no finish -- the latter being a selling point, according to the warped reality of beer advertisers.) And this continued at each of the stops! Živjeli!

Montenegro is, simply, beautiful. Driving around the Bay of Kotor was incredible. Cypress trees darken the awesome Dinarides -- hence the country's name, "black mountains" -- leading down to the mirror-like, deep blue bay; it actually resembles a fjord, blocking all wind from the Adriatic. With towns and villages at the water's edge -- the best defence against the main threat of the time: invading Ottomans from the mountains -- it really reminded me of a lush Lake Como; indeed, the Dinarides (is it just me, or does that word conjure up this epic mix of Easy Rider and dinosaurs?) are properly called the Dinaric Alps.

You can just make out the city wall above

The city of Kotor was our first significant stop. Words fail me. That wall 'round the old port, rising up the mountains in the most imposing fashion, was the highlight of the tour. Unfortunately, given the lushness of the terrain, I feel my pictures too have failed to capture it. (This will probably sound simple and odd, but, staring up at that wall, I felt like the greatest of cities from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms video game were alive before me; ah, a childhood bowed before Nintendo.)

This trip has really illuminated how paths diverged following the dissolution of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, and on a spectrum of Croatia to Bosnia, a good example of mixed blessings is Montenegro generally, and the route to our other stop, Budva, specifically.

Relaxing in Budva

The division of the South Slavic language known as Serbo-Croatian was largely a political construct, and while Montenegrins understand Croatian, officially they use a Cyrillic alphabet, whereas the latter use a Latin one. (Incidentally, our guide admitted that she struggles with official, largely government-related, correspondence, as the reality of Montenegro's reliance on tourism means that a Latin alphabet carries the day.) I raise this because our guide pointed out that, on said road to Budva, and throughout the town itself, it's the Russian alphabet, not the Serbian one, on the road signs and shop fronts. This, the large mansions (outside UNESCO protected areas, at least), and (abandoned, in many cases) factories blighting the greenery, reflect Russian exploitation of a newly-independent (since 2006), but poor, country. (For example, unable to afford a currency of their own, Montenegro requested, and received, permission to use the euro, even though they aren't part of the Union.)

I've always had difficulty putting news from this region (e.g., Kosovo's declaration of years past) in context, so it was particularly fascinating and rewarding for me to learn about its history in such beautiful surroundings. Tour guides are no different from any of us, of course, burdened with a set of biases; still, for me, it's tough to beat a few hours with a good storyteller.

The small islet and hotel resort of Sveti Stefan (Saint Stephen)

Check out our album for more pictures from the tour.

Dubrovnik: up amongst the swifts

We woke to rain in the wee hours this morning. It had cleared by the time we'd stirred, and there was barely a cloud in the sky until mid afternoon. We're about to head to supper now, and it's still lovely, if a little cool.

We booked a tour to Montenegro tomorrow; we'll be up early for that two-hour bus ride. Hopefully the good weather will continue. The other significant event of the day was walking the walls of Old Town. Unsurprisingly, it's a popular attraction, but they've done a great job, keeping the foot traffic one-way. I'd also recommend going later in the afternoon; they're closed at 6 p.m., but they don't chase you off once you're up and, today at least, the lighting was superb as it got on for 7 p.m.

Cafe Buza: just outside the walls

As the title suggests, the highlight for me was the swifts: for sheer numbers, as well as their proximity. They're such agile creatures, dipping and diving in and out of the narrowest of alleys, and then coming mere feet from you. When we were staying in Varenna, I had trouble distinguishing them from bats once dusk came on; here, the shape of their beaks, colouration, etc. were all immediately obvious. What I wasn't able to determine is where they were nesting; I kept trying to follow their 'flicking', wondering whether they'd ever get tired. (Having very short legs, swifts won't voluntary land on the ground or perch.)

I'll included a few shots below, but don't forget to check out our album as well.

Update 10:50 p.m.: We'd spied and smelled the smoke from Lady Pi Pi's grill earlier, settling on that for supper. It did not disappoint. I'm stuffed to the gills still. I started with anchovies, and then went for grilled squid; such good choices -- the best squid of my life, hands down -- but I didn't stop there: when I saw Lady Pi Pi goulash, I had to try it. The waiter raised an eyebrow, but dutifully brought it. They'd listed it as a side dish, but it was a meal in itself. And, oh, so good. I put a good dent in the lot, anyway. Tea's steak, with sardines to start, was also excellent. I can see us back there for at least one more meal.

Dubrovnik, at war

After picking up a few groceries -- just before closing, luckily -- we stopped at Konoba Moskar for a spot of lunch. Tea had sea bass again -- deboning it like a champ -- and I had stewed beef in a traditional Dalmatian sauce, with gnocchi; both were fantastic. I also tried the other Croatian lager, Karlovacko, which was very good; I wasn't as impressed with my bottle of Ozujsko the other night. I'm still on the hunt for what I suspect will be my favourite: the strong, dark lager called Tomislav.

Sated, we then set out for the cable car to the Imperial Fortress, on Mount Srđ. We actually passed through some cloud near the top, so after spending some time in the Croatian Independence War Museum -- Dubrovnik wasn't spared, as you can see in the picture below -- we headed down the switchbacks to get a better view of Dubrovnik old and new.

Damage sustained during the Siege of Dubrovnik; the building housing our apartment is yellow -- i.e., the roof or walls damaged -- and circled

Now we're off on another adventure outside the walls, to a Mexican restaurant Tea wants to try.

Update 12:35 a.m.: That Mexican restaurant is closed on Sundays. Nevertheless, we found a nearby restaurant, Komarda, and enjoyed yet another beautifully cooked sea bass between us. (In addition to deboning it, Tea valiantly defended it against one particularly enterprising cat. In case you weren't aware, there are a lot of cats wandering around Dubrovnik.) Plus, the wine, a Kozlovic white... Oh, it was excellent. And then, drawn by the live acoustic music, we enjoyed another lovely, fruity bottle of white on the 'Stradun': Malvasija Dubrovacka.

Yet another (beautiful) sea bass, at Komarda

The Stradun

Us, at Cele

As noted earlier, I'll continue to update our Picasa album throughout the trip.

Dubrovnik, at last

Ah, Dubrovnik at last! Ever since I fell for the New Dubrovnik in Ottawa, I've dreamed of seeing (and tasting) it. Granted that cuisine is more prominent in the north of Croatia, but, after some outstanding sea bass this afternoon at Bistro Teatar, I'm not complaining! (The Greek and Italian influences are stronger in the south.) The waiter brought it out beforehand -- we even saw a guy delivering fresh catches during the meal! -- and it was prepared so beautifully with garlic and herbs; I'm salivating at the memory. A gentleman beside me was having oysters the likes of which I've only seen in Vigo, and these were even fleshier; apparently they're in season now. With only a dash of lemon, what a starter!

Getting off the bus outside the main gate of Dubrovnik's Old Town was a bit overwhelming -- according to a local paper, they're expecting 206 cruise ships this year, and it seemed really busy with the half dozen or so that were in today -- but, post-kip, with them set sail and the setting sun reflecting off the worn cobblestones, swifts crying and circling above... Well, it just brings you up, marvelling.

I know the reality of the Old Town isn't as romantic: while it's been recognized as a World Heritage Site since '79, I remember reading that the property market has recently rocketed (or maybe has again): as such, fewer folks actually live there, selling or renting their places -- just like the apartment we're in -- and moving outside the walls. [I just remembered that one of my sources was Boj's blog. She references incentives to keep locals living in the Old Town; I'll have to see whether there's data on how that's working, two years on from their visit.]

Check out our Picasa album for more pictures from the trip; I'll be updating it throughout the week here.

Amsterdam: beery nights

[Warning: this one's all about the beer.]

Just back from a few days in Amsterdam, this time armed with Around Amsterdam in 80 Beers. (As on our Berlin trip, this sucker was always in my back pocket; an essential for cutting through the chaff in a land of excess like the 'dam.) I'll get on to the staples from my previous visits shortly, but first I'd like to a highlight two gems I discovered this time 'round:

• De Prael: I find no good reason for my failing to frequent 'The Pearl' before now. I usually favour breweries above all else, this one proves that wisdom. As suggested by the guide, their Willy was lovely. (As was the Nick & Simon, their IPA, I had at In de Wildeman.) Time constrains meant I didn't eat in the cafe, but I must say that it looked and smelled most inviting.
• Café de Koe: a fantastic little hideaway from the central madness. For its food, staff and atmosphere, this cafe has my wholehearted recommendation. Oddly, I was so excited to have found it that there was a Palm in front of me before I realized that one of their many bottles (I would put it at 14, given the guide's numbers and the three taps I saw) would've been a better choice. Still the Moroccan lamb the waitress recommended was out of this world -- honestly the best couscous I've ever had, exciting the palette with pine nuts and pomegranate seeds -- and, as if that weren't enough, as we were idly chatting at the end of the meal, the chef came over with a bowl of the lamb curry they had on special that day to share, simply because he was really proud of it and thought we might like it. As I say, an absolutely fantastic find!

And now, the staples. First up, 't Arendsnest ('The Eagle's Nest'). In some ways, it was like my first time: I mispronounced beers, somehow missed that they serve Dutch beers exclusively (O_o -- I know, right?) and was generally a source of much amusement. Over two great evenings, I had:

• Texels Tripel
• Holland Oats: an amazing collaboration between Stillwater Artisanal Ales and Emelisse; unfortunately, all my companions were too young to get the pun.
• Emelisse White Label: in case you can't read that (to the right), it's Jack Daniels barrel aged, which gave it some lovely woody notes. I'd put this down as the beer of the trip, or maybe second to a Jopen; either the one a friend kept going back to -- Jopen Ongelovige Thomas -- or the next one.
• Jopen Meester Stuk
• Snab Pale Ale
• De Molen Jaar & Dag: an excellent Saison

♫ Private eyes, they're watchin' you... ♪

Up next, its sister bar, Beer Temple. This time 'round I was really impressed with how they were able to recommend beers for a few guys I brought along who were really just dipping their toes. We spent a lot of time here:

• Tempel Bier: the house beer; a Dutch IPA
• Pretty Things Jack D'Or: a stunning Saison; love, love, LOVED it
• De Molen Two and a Half IPA: brewed to celebrate Beer Temple's years in business; nice, powerful stuff
• Mikkeler Hop Burn High: at 10%, heavy stuff to end the first night on, but so, so lovely
• Rogue Imperial Youngers Special Bitter: a gem, with a nice sweetness in the finish
• Emelisse Hoppie Mikkie IPA: the second beer brewed to celebrate Beer Temple's milestone
• Southern Tier Back Burner: just a great barley wine
• Flying Dog Gonzo Imperial Porter: really nice currants in the finish
• Great Divide Titan IPA: a love-punch of hops; beauty

Last, but not least in anyone's book, In de Wildeman. I quickly popped in after De Prael one afternoon, and in addition to the Nick & Simon IPA I mentioned, I had Bavik Petrus (oak) Aged Pale. I'd had it in the bottle before, and this was even nicer; really refreshing and more complex than the moniker of sour ale suggests. Unfortunately, they were setting up for a beer festival when I brought some guys by early on Friday: the lady behind the bar was really friendly, but obviously rushed off her feet. In the end, I couldn't blame the guys for giving it a thumbs down. Me, I was just disappointed I couldn't stick around for the beer festival!

Liverpool: Rebecca Ferguson at the Philharmonic Hall

I've seen a lot in my time here. But I hadn't seen anything like Liverpool. Home snug 'n' sound, an hour off the train now, it's that it's just three hours north of here that keeps bringing me up. You'd swear this island would have to be twice the size it is (or more) to hold as many distinct pockets. And in Liverpool, that distinction is so pronounced; it's almost a performance. From the gentleman in tweeds at the Dispensary on Friday night, young doll at his elbow 30 years his junior and still many-summers wise, twirling his full-on handlebar moustache while exclaiming to a table of friends he hasn't met yet, "Lads, shall we retire to the pavement and smoke a few fags?" -- his emphasis, I swear on all that's holy -- to the lass at the train station this afternoon, by all accounts dressed for the public eye -- well, note I'm letting the softball of 'leggings are not trousers' sail right by -- save for a full head of curlers like only your nan has sported in the last half century, in Liverpool, the show does go on.

And I loved it.

Liverpool Cathedral

The analogy doesn't end there, either: the town itself is like different sets on a movie lot. A Chinatown -- Europe's oldest, incidentally -- like I've only seen in San Francisco is just down the hill from this monster of an Anglican cathedral, itself a short walk from the rival for Temple Bar that is the intersection of Hanover and Wood. And the illusion is complete when you find yourself on one of the many unpopulated streets -- and I'm talkin' entirely, be it high noon or midnight, you can find these places easily. It's downright creepy, and, surrounded by the tall brick faces, very back lot. (But rarely in a scary way, I hasten to add; we were worried about the city's rough reputation, shall we say, but found it as warm and friendly as you'd like, for the most part. And even that one time, walking home in the wee hours of Sunday, I'm sure it was just that our imaginations were workin' overtime.)

We'd been talking about going to Liverpool for a long time; at least since this time last year, when Liverpudlians we met at the York Brewery put it on par with that wonderful city as a good-times destination. The excuse that finally got us there was a Rebecca Ferguson concert. And what a show it was. As the runner-up on the X Factor in 2010, I guess I'm probably one of the few folks that hadn't heard her amazing voice. It filled the Philharmonic Hall to bursting, and, coupled with intros to the songs she wrote, conveyed rare emotion and infectious humility. As it happened, her family was right behind us (with one empty row between) and as Rebecca made many references to the importance of the love and support they'd given her over the years, you could hear them trying to stifle their reactions. Add to that a top quality opener in Jay James Picton -- honestly, he was one of the best opening acts I've seen; powerful and confident from the outset -- and you've got one heck of a night.

Food

The best meal of the trip had to be the burgers at the Shipping Forecast. We both had the goat's cheese and caramelized onion burger, and, oh man, you wanna talk about finger-lickin' good -- don't even think the Brits would've been able to resist throwin' down that fork and knife in the face of these beauties. And then what Tea awarded Best Chips in Britain, as a side? Heaven. Plus, they had a wicked selection of condiments -- including three types of Tabasco (in the UK, mind!) -- which is easy, but trips up many of the otherwise pros. Second place goes to North Garden: one of the many inviting options in Chinatown that we picked at random. Fantastic duck, wonton soup, spicy shrimp with garlic... Just a meal of starters, really, which is how Tea rolls, or would, if the rest of the world would just get on board and offer proper meals. Barburrito gets bronze: as good as any Mexican you can get in Canada, in my opinion. Which just seems wrong, as they get it together in less than five minutes. But so flavourful, from their guacamole to their various salsas, etc.

Pubs

At The Philharmonic Dining Rooms

I've already talked about the Shipping Forecast; fantastic place. Don't let the hipster digs turn you off: the staff are really friendly, they've got a good beer selection -- including a lot of American craft brew (e.g., Sierra Nevada Pale Ale -- on tap and more apricot-y than any time I've had it in the bottle -- Flying Dog's Snake Bit IPA, Goose Island's Honkers Ale) and English cask ales like Top of the Hops Golden Ale -- and, well, you've heard about the grub. But if it's a few pints you're looking for, the Dispensary is my top recommendation. It's easy to see why it's been the Liverpool and Districts CAMRA Pub of the Year for the past two. Clearly a local favourite, it's a place for beer lovers. I suspected this when I saw Stringers Mutiny nestled in the middle of five hand pumps (with two at the other end of the bar, for those who're counting). At 9.3%, it's way more than I've seen any landlord willing to put on -- remember, they have to sell this stuff in a matter of weeks, to a crowd who, by 'n' large, look for 'session' beers around the 4% mark, tops -- and a treat: so smooth, with the perfect amount of currants in the finish. Tea and I agreed, though: the highlight of the evening was the George Wright Brewery's Mild. And that was with two other stars on in Marble's Bitter -- one of my Top 3 favourite brewers, and only available up north (from what I can tell), unfortunately -- and Outstanding's Standing Out.

At Thomas Rigby's

Other stops included:

• Thomas Rigby's: great spot with a lot of character. Ilkley's Fireside Porter had a nice bite to it. Tea had Newmans Creative Cat, a tasty pale, from a Welsh brewer, apparently (with no 'net presence I can find).
• The Globe: clearly, another local favourite, and an oasis in the shopping district. They were jokin' and carryin' on with the landlady when I was in there; really infectious. I'd probably put this in second place, come to think of it. The Coach House Brewing Co.'s Squires Gold Spring Ale was excellent: refreshing and understated.
• The Munro: gotta love it when a restaurant that bills itself as fine dining has four real ales on, and a warm, relaxing area to enjoy them.
• The Philharmonic Dining Rooms: last, but not least, we popped in after the show on a recommendation. Opulent and cosy, if you can believe it, with a truly amazing selection of ales. I think the tasty red I had had Smithy in the name, which leads me to White Horse Brewery's Wayland Smithy. Tea's True Grit Pale Ale, by Millstone Brewery, was also excellent.

Just a great weekend. We took the train up, and never once considered a cab. The Albert Docks, where we stayed (at the excellent Staybridge Suites), were a leisurely half-hour walk from there, and everything we did was in between the two. One of the better walking cities we've visited, in fact.