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29-04-2012, 11:27
Visit the Shut up about Barclay Perkins site (http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/2012/04/zbf-2012.html)
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"Two cans of Atlas, please" That's how my day started. Though, of course, I said those words in Dutch. The two were to be my travel-time friends. Them and Mike. And a bacon and egg sandwich. Though the latter wasn't around long. It had disappeared down my throat before we go to Schiphol.
Here's a word of advice if you plan travelling from Holland to Belgium by train. Get on at Amsterdam Centraal. You've no chance of a seat otherwise. Yes, I felt a little sorry for the pensioners on crutches, but it was their own fault for catching the train in Den Haag. And they only had to stand for an hour. Or so.
We changed trains in Mechelen.It's years since I've been there. As we'd 40 minutes between trains, Mike was keen on finding a shoarma place. Once he'd found one, I disappeared into the pub next door. My lunchtime sandwich was more liquid.
A beer and jenever sandwich. I admired a rather nice old Whitbread sign, while sipping my Leffe Bruin. Quite spicy. Nothing like as bad as I'd feared. The jenever was a paint-strippery delight.
Leuven uis a nother place I haven't been for ages. The square in front of the station has changed quite a bit. Not for the better. Most of the station has been demolished. The front facade is still there, but not in use. Good one Leuven. You can get some idea of the horror here.
A bloke in an upper window of the builing opposite seemed to be filming the crowds outside the station. Weird. He definitely didn't like me taking photos of him back, as he dodging back into the room.
Once in Leuven, therre were only a couple of pieces of information missing for us. Where the festival was and how to get there. It only took us half an hour to work out. We sat outside a pub with wifi and Mike went ticky-ticky-tack on his phone. Smart phones - the Barcelona of the digital world. Lots of ticking and tacking with no visible result.
I took the opportunity of being on licensed premises to have my second jenever of the day. The pub's wifi, quite wittily, blocked all beer-related sites. I had chance to cavour my jenever while Mike get around this technical difficulty.
God, the arrangements were confusing. The shuttle bus went from . . . . the bus station. Who could have guessed that.
Apart from being in the middle of nowhere, the ZBF's location, Brabanthallen is a great venue. Lots and lots of room. The main hall must be at least double the size of the one in Sint Niklaas. So much room. It made me quite dizzy. Though possibly that could have been the spinning around in circles
Every festival demands special tactics. At ZBF, I have a particular routine. Pick a type of beer, have all the examples that look worthwhile and drink them. With a trou lambic in the middle. Then finish off with four or five of the nicest beer.
It didn't quite work out like that this year. I blame the organisers. With all that space and more breweries, there were just too many tempting lambics. I dived straight in. And, in all honesty, with all that I'd knocked back on the way there, I though t it best to avoid the super-strong stuff.
It's the best collection of flat lambic I've seen at ZBF. Girardin, 3 Fonteinen, Boon, Oud Beersel and a new one (can't remember their name*, tasted like a Boon base) all had at least one.
I'd bought 15 tokens. Plus two free ones for being in CAMRA. And only three hours to drink. "Do you think I'll get through them all, Mike? Remember that I like interpreting simple comments as a challenge.
Sort of cheating. That's how I got through them. I filled up a small water bottle for the return journey. "That beer tastes like the spcial drink I took with me on the nightmare blizzard journey. A blend of St Bernardus Abt and Lagavullin. There was so much whisky it changed a funny grey-brown colour." Can't remember its name. It was in a big wooden barrel rigged up to a beer engine. I felt a bit odd drinking it, as there was a CO2 cylinder linked up Very naughty. Not proper cask.
The train back was packed after Mechelen (where Mike had another shoarma). We couldn't get seats together. never mind I haad my whisky beer to keep me company.
I got home early. Surprisingly early. Time for a couple of Abts before bedtime.
* Tilquin, that was it.https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5445569787371915337-7485787361379903864?l=barclayperkins.blogspot.com
More... (http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/2012/04/zbf-2012.html)
http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wr3u2Ogwm_U/T50XOn-5QaI/AAAAAAAAI74/CSEgY1x1z5I/s320/Whitbread_sign.jpg (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wr3u2Ogwm_U/T50XOn-5QaI/AAAAAAAAI74/CSEgY1x1z5I/s1600/Whitbread_sign.jpg)
"Two cans of Atlas, please" That's how my day started. Though, of course, I said those words in Dutch. The two were to be my travel-time friends. Them and Mike. And a bacon and egg sandwich. Though the latter wasn't around long. It had disappeared down my throat before we go to Schiphol.
Here's a word of advice if you plan travelling from Holland to Belgium by train. Get on at Amsterdam Centraal. You've no chance of a seat otherwise. Yes, I felt a little sorry for the pensioners on crutches, but it was their own fault for catching the train in Den Haag. And they only had to stand for an hour. Or so.
We changed trains in Mechelen.It's years since I've been there. As we'd 40 minutes between trains, Mike was keen on finding a shoarma place. Once he'd found one, I disappeared into the pub next door. My lunchtime sandwich was more liquid.
A beer and jenever sandwich. I admired a rather nice old Whitbread sign, while sipping my Leffe Bruin. Quite spicy. Nothing like as bad as I'd feared. The jenever was a paint-strippery delight.
Leuven uis a nother place I haven't been for ages. The square in front of the station has changed quite a bit. Not for the better. Most of the station has been demolished. The front facade is still there, but not in use. Good one Leuven. You can get some idea of the horror here.
A bloke in an upper window of the builing opposite seemed to be filming the crowds outside the station. Weird. He definitely didn't like me taking photos of him back, as he dodging back into the room.
Once in Leuven, therre were only a couple of pieces of information missing for us. Where the festival was and how to get there. It only took us half an hour to work out. We sat outside a pub with wifi and Mike went ticky-ticky-tack on his phone. Smart phones - the Barcelona of the digital world. Lots of ticking and tacking with no visible result.
I took the opportunity of being on licensed premises to have my second jenever of the day. The pub's wifi, quite wittily, blocked all beer-related sites. I had chance to cavour my jenever while Mike get around this technical difficulty.
God, the arrangements were confusing. The shuttle bus went from . . . . the bus station. Who could have guessed that.
Apart from being in the middle of nowhere, the ZBF's location, Brabanthallen is a great venue. Lots and lots of room. The main hall must be at least double the size of the one in Sint Niklaas. So much room. It made me quite dizzy. Though possibly that could have been the spinning around in circles
Every festival demands special tactics. At ZBF, I have a particular routine. Pick a type of beer, have all the examples that look worthwhile and drink them. With a trou lambic in the middle. Then finish off with four or five of the nicest beer.
It didn't quite work out like that this year. I blame the organisers. With all that space and more breweries, there were just too many tempting lambics. I dived straight in. And, in all honesty, with all that I'd knocked back on the way there, I though t it best to avoid the super-strong stuff.
It's the best collection of flat lambic I've seen at ZBF. Girardin, 3 Fonteinen, Boon, Oud Beersel and a new one (can't remember their name*, tasted like a Boon base) all had at least one.
I'd bought 15 tokens. Plus two free ones for being in CAMRA. And only three hours to drink. "Do you think I'll get through them all, Mike? Remember that I like interpreting simple comments as a challenge.
Sort of cheating. That's how I got through them. I filled up a small water bottle for the return journey. "That beer tastes like the spcial drink I took with me on the nightmare blizzard journey. A blend of St Bernardus Abt and Lagavullin. There was so much whisky it changed a funny grey-brown colour." Can't remember its name. It was in a big wooden barrel rigged up to a beer engine. I felt a bit odd drinking it, as there was a CO2 cylinder linked up Very naughty. Not proper cask.
The train back was packed after Mechelen (where Mike had another shoarma). We couldn't get seats together. never mind I haad my whisky beer to keep me company.
I got home early. Surprisingly early. Time for a couple of Abts before bedtime.
* Tilquin, that was it.https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5445569787371915337-7485787361379903864?l=barclayperkins.blogspot.com
More... (http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/2012/04/zbf-2012.html)