But of course there is no rest for the wicked. Like the fourth emergency service, a good beerhound is always on call. So it was, that the very next day, I found myself at the legendary Septemburyfest, organised by our very own Eddie, the eager legal beagle. The great thing about this shindig is that you comfort yourself that your drinking is altruistic. It’s not for your benefit but done to swell the coffers of charity.
It’s definitely quality, not quantity, here as Eddie had selected guaranteed bankers. It really was a glut of riches and it will come as no surprise that the likes of Brewdog Trashy Blonde, Pictish Cluster and Mallinsons Octagon Tower were all very tasty. And Lakeland Gold was in such good form that some amateurs actually found it too fruity and hoppy to cope with. My favourite though was Meantime London Pale Ale. Eddie commented that the cask was literally full of hops and it certainly translated to the tongue-a very satisfying pint, indeed.
However, despite strong protestations from Don Ricardo, the fun had to come to an end. With Automatic and the Trackside shut, this led to a bunch of drunks scouring the bar of the Robert Peel for some lat night comfort. Alas, there was no real ale to be had but Wetherspoons do have three ciders just for this sort of occasion.
Now two pints of Old Rosie at 7.3% at that time of night was enough for me and I switched to the more manageable whisky. However, some people are made of more sterner stuff. Or are just plain bonkers. Hence Don Ricardo putting back a rather impressive 5 pints of finest apple juice in just over 100 mins. This did lead to some difficulty getting up and the amusing sight of him swaying from one side of the street to the other, setting off various car alarms, before slumping on the corner of his street. Remember kids: drink responsibly.