Madness is getting up on a Sunday morning at 7am, having dieted and trained for 6 weeks previously, before putting yourself into a 12 foot wide track with 5,500 other similarly disturbed people and running for 21,097.5 meters, or 13^7?64 miles. It’s more commonly known as a half marathon, the little brother of the distance made famous by the whims of the British Royal Family in 1908.

Runners head off at the start of the Liverpool Half Marathon

Luckily having completed one marathon and a couple of halves previously, I was let off running another one this weekend (The Liverpool Half Marathon 2010) through a combination of my own incompetency and a bit of bad luck due to higher than expected demand (who are all these mentalists who applied so quickly they closed applications early?!) Still, I went along for the weekend to Liverpool for a friend’s birthday meal the night before (not much drinking achieved) and to watch my usual jogger in crime partner complete his first race of that length (which he did in terrific fashion).

After spending 1 hour 55 minutes on your feet (walking around Liverpool whilst your mates put their legs through a hellish feat of endurance) what do you do for refreshment? You hit the pub, fill up your empty belly and craving muscles, and top up your water levels with a few halves of cask ale (because you’re driving the mad runners home once they’ve suitably recovered from their valiant efforts).

Courage Directors was about as drinkable as bitter comes, and much smoother than the slightly sour Pedigree that followed. Both were poured with absolute precision by the highly experienced barman. One pull for a half, two for a pint, poured at a snail’s pace using all the pressure of the beer engine to pull the amber liquids forth to each glass. Each was superior to the pint of Black Sheep that materialised from thin air at the local Toby Carvery back in South Leeds later that evening. The first pint poured from the tap was entirely transparent much to the amazement of the chap on the bar and the embarrassment of the bar manager behind him “That’s my fault, that” he said cheerily, before scurrying off to do whatever it was he needed to do to whisk a surprisingly clear pint of ale from out of a hat.

It’s Cask Ale Week is this week, so get down the boozer and sample some British ales (we’re pretty unique in the world for cask ale, you know). Walk if you can or get a lift/public transport (I’d avoid running if I were you!) It’s better for the environment and you don’t have to worry about drinking a pint or two then. Preaching over. Enjoy!

It's Cask ale Week. It looks like this and it's good!

Lincoln Christmas Market

Lincoln Cathedral can be seen for miles around the Lincolnshire countryside

Christmas Market season is in full swing, and one of the best in Europe is situated this side of the channel in Lincoln. The cathedral city is one of two distinct halves, uphill and downhill, a societal division left over from Lincoln’s days as Lindum Colonia, the hilly Roman fort.

Two whole millennia later and Lincoln’s uphill area is much the cultural heart of the city, with the harsh and winding walk up the aptly named Steep Hill to the thankfully flatter Castle Hill area.

Roasted Chestnuts at Lincoln Christmas Market

Steep Hill is a cobbled cornucopia of independent shops, blessed with ancient buildings such as Jew’s House and littered with dust covered antiquarian book shops. The climb is worth it to reach the square above, which separates the utterly magnificent Lincoln Cathedral from the slightly less imposing, but equally interesting Lincoln Castle, the city’s Victorian gaol house.

For a few days each December these open spaces and the area three times this behind it – through the Lawn in Lincoln complex, the Bailgate streets and the Burton Rd area is filled with continental traders, local produce stalls, three or more craft markets and an ensemble of food fairs, bratwurst stalls, roasted chestnuts carts and the magic of a wintery Christmas land.

The descent down Steep Hill gets a lot steeper beyond the Wig and Mitre pub

Read the rest of this entry »

I was recently directly by a kind friend to an article in shortlist discussing ‘The Real Ale Revival’.

Real Ale Revival article in ShortList

Despite it lacking somewhat in actual evidence (other than the fact that Stephen Fry and James May drink real ale, whose exponential increase in popularity over the last 5 years is hardly evidence for real ale becoming cool) it made some nice points to convince Shortlist readers that real ale is better than the mass produced ‘lager’ stuff, a philosophy I doubt I need to convert most of our readers to.

Anyway, well done to Shortlist for highlighting that real ale is good (and for pointing out for those that are interested the very obviously geeky celebrities that prefer real beer to watered down [insert name of your least favourite canned lager-piss here].

What caught my eye was a column by Roger Protz, who selected ‘a quartet of introductory ales’ alongside the main article. Now Roger Protz knows much more about beer than me, and rightly so, I’ve been supping real ale on and off since I was 17 (that’s 8 years) although only with any real enthusiasm and passion for 1 or 2 (and only writing about it since May this year!).

But given that this foursome is designed to be an ‘introduction’ to real ale – the column was titled ‘A Starter For Four’ – I would assume that these beers are selected with the lager or non-beer drinker in mind. That might include drinkers who’ve touched on real ale in the past, either unwittingly or ‘just to try’ and never really ‘got it’ and those that generally steer clear.

So what ales were selected? Read the rest of this entry »