retiredmartin

Right, enough pandering to “tradition”, let’s get back to the blog, in the vain hope we can get up-to-date by year-end.

26th November 2022.

After getting back from the Light show well after midnight, we slept in till 1pm, by which time it already getting dark.

With an early start on Sunday to spot whales, Saturday was officially Craft Beer Day.

The internet seemed unusually unanimous that Ølhallen was Tromso’s equivalent of the Kelham Island Tavern or Cambridge Blue, despite being owned by the town brewery Mack.

In truth, it was closer in feel to one of those Mikkeller bars in Copenhagen, but still cosy.

Mrs RM nabbed the last remaining table in a pub full of the sort of crowd you get in the City Arms after work, and found someone to keep guard while I was dispatched to the bar with the instruction “something strong“.

I mean, how do you choose from that (don’t say “ask for tasters”).

I picked three thirds on the basis of key words that seem to have been “Porter”, “Blonde” and “NEIPA”, but I may just have pointed.

Yep, that really is £35. Once again, high quality stuff, particularly the Christmas Blonde. The seal looked on.

No food though, so we popped 3 minutes into town for the unpromising looking Blarock, which I can only describe as Tromso’s Krakatoa.

As with everywhere else in town, very relaxed and unfussy and home to a motley crue of tourists, locals and bewildered gentlefolk.

“Never listen to a bloke wearing fluorescent sneakers” said the Yank at the bar. Never take advice from a Yank, say I.

Live music here, seemingly on about four levels dotted with UK punk singles.

We had the standard Mack beers, including the Christmas one, here. 3 big burgers (all superb) and 3 beers was £80. You’d pay more for less in the Hard Rock Cafe in Manchester.

Nearly all the music they played was so obscure it defeated Shazam, and Mrs RM couldn’t identify this chap.

There is no hope, is there ?