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Showing posts from November, 2017

Wroclaw Dwa

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Underneath a market hall might not seem the most likely place to find a decent watering hole, but in Wroclaw it is. Upstairs is a run-of-the-mill market, albeit with some impressive bulbous mushrooms. But downstairs is Targowa, a 12 tap little hideaway. Some very decent stuff on here again: New England Pale being good, as was the American Pale Ale. The Habanero Oatmeal Stout, however, was something of a one-trick gimmick that quickly outstayed its welcome.
On the other side of town is Browar Stu Mostow: the Brewery of a Hundred Bridges. The idea being that beer can bridge the gap between people, countries etc. I like that idea and Stu Mostow itself bridges the gap between the old neighbourhood it's in and its ultra-modern design. A large brewing setup downstairs is complemented by a surprisingly small bar area upstairs.
Now, being the sensible beerhound that I am, I suggested small measures as there were a few to try and it was going to be a long day. However, this was met by der…

Wroclaw

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Wroclaw is the largest city in Western Poland and probably one of the best places most people haven't heard of. The city itself is home to over 600,000 people and includes a very large student population. German, until the end of the Second World War, it was the centre of a prolonged and ferocious conflict known as the Battle of Breslau. Anyone interested in learning more about that should read Richard Hargreaves excellent book on the subject.
However, happily, today's Wroclaw is very much alive and thriving. Thriving with the craft beer bug, no less. Ha, I thought that would get your attention. Culture is all very well, if you like that sort of thing, but what CAMRA types like best is throwing copious amounts of alcohol down their glugholes. Wine, whisky, cider: it really doesn't matter too much. Ideally, though, of course it's beer. And that includes foreign muck as well. It may not be cricket and all that, but some of this Johnny Foreigner stuff isn't half bad.
W…

St Helens

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St Helens is a large town in Merseyside that is, dare we say, considered a little dull. Until recently its only real claim to beery fame was as the birthplace of Greenall Whitley. But that's all changed. Along with many other seemingly unlikely destinations, it has reinvented itself as a real ale trail. Now some people get to review Michelin starred restaurants whilst others get invited to judge fine wine. And then there are those who get to spend a rainy day in St Helens so that you, dear reader, don't have to.
The crawl is pretty straightforward; radiating from the station and round until you are back at the Central Station again. For brevity, I'll just concentrate on the ones that seem worth a comment, good or bad.
Handy for the station is the George which, unsurprisingly, is on George St. This two-roomed street corner boozer usually sells two local beers, although only one was on at opening time when we called. The very friendly barmaid was apologetic and pulled some be…