Having survived war-torn Hamburg (reports to follow), I should have been prepared for a trip to Latitude near Southwold. Nothing can prepare you for the horror that is Waitrose-in-a-field.
“Sod Mikkeller, try the cask in Charlie’s Bar” wrote Scott, the Dutchman with his finger in the dike, trying to keep out the flood of cask.
So I did, popping back into the centre once Mrs RM and the boys had been suitably worn out by a five mile walk round the old town and appeased with chocolate and beer from Netto.
Before that we’d already had a boat trip round the harbour, being shown the low bridge where a Japanese tourist had her extended arm removed recently. The tour guide should audition for the London Dungeon.
Copenhagen is best seen from the water, taking us past Mikkeller’s waterfront joint, the Giant Mermaid and the street food at the Paper Island.
I found the central streets a bit functional, but clearly enlivened by the frontage of Charlie’s Bar.
In most circumstances a sign saying “Cask Marque” (which lucky CM inspector gets that gig ?) would be a warning to walk straight past, but here’s what’s inside.
A gloriously dark and wooden pub interior, and a scary row of handpumps.
As I always do, I said to the barman
“Hello. Which beer is selling fastest ?” In my perfect English, of course.
“Have you ever tried real ale ?” – Once or twice, I offered.
The finest Romanian barman in Copenhagen then proceeded to give me a detailed analysis of the Thomas Paine. I listened politely and order the Sussex.
It was nectar (NBSS 4), better than the pint I had in Lewes last month. When folk say Sussex is a great pint,this is what they’re talking about. They should throw out a pub in North London and add this one. No-one would mind.
Everything else about the pub was immaculate, though traditionalists may have some issues with roses in Ceramic Man’s head.
The other customers weren’t expats, they were groups of locals enjoying a great pub.
There’s a lot more than cask here, and the barman talked me through the merits of Romanian beer from the fridge. I should have stayed all night, but Mrs RM needed a bottle opener.