I’m enjoying the sun and soapy suds, as you Yanks say, at the End of the Road Festival. Loads of youngsters with beards. It could be IndyMan.
The Beavertown bar has a craft peacock to protect it against hostile takeover by Big Beer.
We’ll see how corporate Beavertown have become when they open their mega bar at “New Spurs”, probably in 2021 at this rate.
I’m a fan of the Beaver boys, and you get a good selection of their finest murk in their little bar in the gorgeous Larmer Gardens.
No point having Gamma Ray (£6.50) of course, you can probably get that on draught in Tesco cafes these days.
No, I ask for the special and get something called Sapling. £5 a half, or £10 a pint if you’re a Sun reader. Folk behind me were asking me for a recommendation, like I was a sommelier (perhaps I am).
Proving the Nanny State still exists, they refuse to serve it in pints, so unfortunately it’s drunk before Mrs RM joins me on the Woods Stage for Josh T Pearson.
I buy her a fudge brownie to make up for it.
This is her view of the music by the way.
When she orders me to get a beer, I ask “pale”, “dark” or “murk filth”, and choose her the Zig Zag Stout from Milk Street.
Now, I won’t lie. 80% of the booze here is in cans bought from Shaftesbury Tesco and carted up a back-breaking hill to the camp site.
Brew Dog seems the can of choice, but the chap in front of me (it wasn’t Ian) proudly downed his Bass, origin unknown.
But End of the Road flogs a lot of cask, and if you want to sample beers from the established breweries along the A303, this is the place to come.
And they know how to keep beer cool (it’s chilly on Cranborne Chase, too).
I gave the Zig Zag a 4.5, a ridiculously high score for a beer at a festival in a plastic glass.
I’m either going soft, or perhaps September is the month that we’ll see cask reborn after the traumas of Summer.