By now I think its fairly well established that I enjoy my beer. My days of a continuous hangover are hopefully well behind me now but there's nothing better than being able to sit down with a pint, a notebook relax and who know, get chatting to someone. Its even better when there's a new beer or 2 to try!
Seattle is actually well known for its Microbreweries (as are Vancouver and Portland, the next 2 destinations on my hit list) and its almost harder to get away from them than it is to find them. My first evening in The Emerald City had been a beer tasting extravaganza in Collins Pub where a whole host of tasty beverages, unknown and untried by my tastebuds were unexpectedly awaiting my approval. Bizarre names abound, it was the Flying Dog Wheat that hit the nail on the head this time around.
This, I was discovering, was only the tip of the iceberg. I'd wound up meeting a bunch of people from all over the place whilst back at my hostel that first night and together we wound up at the Pike Brewery, a bar come restaurant with its own Brewery attached. An array of beery delights awaited us again and from the menu we selected a couple of their rather odd sounding ales to try out. 2 large pitchers were placed down before us and the beer tasting began!
Places like this seem to add an extra edge when it comes to going out to the pub. At home its always been the same 3 or 4 beers on top, a pint of the usual and all that. The sheer variety adds so much to the experience. I'm learning to know what I like and don't a lot quicker now, learning about the different tastes and styles and enjoying my beer drinking far more.
Indeed the whole bar/pub experience feels so different to that of an English one. My status as a foreigner, always experiencing something different and in being so am an interest to others unlike I would be if I was local could be playing a huge part. That is something I will likely never know.
The bar scene, such as it is, seems to invite a certain randomness of events that would be unthinkable at home, especially is such a closed off environment as London. I'd decided to plonk myself in a bar for an hour or so not far from my hostel. The idea to just have a beer and catch up with some writing. I hadn't been in the bar for very long when a couple started talking to me. I remember very little about them although I still have the messages they wrote for me on a card at home, it was the simple act of talking that remains with me. They seemed totally unafraid to open up a conversation with a complete stranger in an environment that to me has always seemed closed off to that. They left to be replaced by three woman and once again, conversation started.
For the life of me I couldn't tell you any of their names and feel almost embarrassed that I cant but there's something about the way the events went that night that may well have me recounting the story till the day I die. The events themselves are actually quite trivial but in context it had a huge impact on me.
Sat talking to one of the girls they told me they were off to see some improv theatre across the road and asked if I'd like to join them. having only just met them less than an hour ago I was unsure but reminded myself that opportunities are there to be seized. Looking back now there is no question that I might the right choice in going. For the next couple of hours I proceeded to laugh my head off, relax and totally unwind, talk to some lovely, genuine people and do something I would never even thought about doing in Seattle!! It wasn't a tourist attraction, it wasn't really anything, just some half decent local theatre. It was, however one of the most memorable evenings of my trip!
We ended up going on from the theatre to the arcade, all of us rolling back a few years and having some fun! Again, just not something I ever would have done if it hadn't been for these three people and whilst its far from unique it was exactly what the doctor ordered. I'd been on the road for 2 months and it was the first time I went and just did something, well, normal. Its funny what sitting in a bar can bring you sometimes!
Showing posts with label Food and Drink. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food and Drink. Show all posts
Friday, 28 September 2007
Friday, 14 September 2007
Opportunity Knocks
There's something relaxing about Albuquerque. Maybe its the lack of major tourist attractions, maybe its the incredible heat, maybe its the good beer, chance are its a combination of all the above along with a few other unknown mysterious factors that make you just want to kick back, have a beer and read a book.
I'd kept my brain ticking over by visiting more museums than you could shake a stick at, I'd also tried my hand at something a little new. Feeling like I should take up opportunities that present themselves. Such an opportunity was gifted to me whilst awaiting fellow hostelers in the Old Town Plaza. Ladies and Gents, I, Dave Dimmer took the Chance to have a go at playing the castanets. Don't worry, I didn't already know how to play, I along with 30 or so other castanet clickers were being taught just how to do it. Needless to say I wont be giving up the day job (yeah I know, I have to have one first) any time soon!! I may have been absolutely terrible and it is more than likely I would never have dreamt of doing this at home but this is part of what this trip is all about - Trying things you wouldn't normally get to, after all who here cares if I make a prat of myself?
I also took it upon myself to take advantage of being here in New Mexico by sampling some Mexican grub. Now, I've had my share of said food back home but there's nothing like trying it in a somewhat more traditional environment. Green chili burgers were advertised everywhere around here but I'd taken myself to a half decent restaurant to sample a proper meal and I'm glad I did! The taste is unquestionably different to similar food back home. I guess its what you'd expect but its only by sampling it for myself can I rant and rave about the real deal here with justification!
This was just about as much energy as I exerted here. I had to recover from my over exposure to the sun but maybe that proved to be a tad beneficial. Sitting outside, book in hand it was a real chance to unwind for a couple of days before I would be taking on Vegas! I could be sure there would be very little let up when I arrived there especially as I'd be there for the 4th of July festivities.
I may not have seen loads in Albuquerque but I'm glad I made it here. Its undoubtedly a very different side of the US and as I progress through this land I realise just how varied the Country is! Vegas next, and you can be damned sure thats going to be different again!
I'd kept my brain ticking over by visiting more museums than you could shake a stick at, I'd also tried my hand at something a little new. Feeling like I should take up opportunities that present themselves. Such an opportunity was gifted to me whilst awaiting fellow hostelers in the Old Town Plaza. Ladies and Gents, I, Dave Dimmer took the Chance to have a go at playing the castanets. Don't worry, I didn't already know how to play, I along with 30 or so other castanet clickers were being taught just how to do it. Needless to say I wont be giving up the day job (yeah I know, I have to have one first) any time soon!! I may have been absolutely terrible and it is more than likely I would never have dreamt of doing this at home but this is part of what this trip is all about - Trying things you wouldn't normally get to, after all who here cares if I make a prat of myself?
I also took it upon myself to take advantage of being here in New Mexico by sampling some Mexican grub. Now, I've had my share of said food back home but there's nothing like trying it in a somewhat more traditional environment. Green chili burgers were advertised everywhere around here but I'd taken myself to a half decent restaurant to sample a proper meal and I'm glad I did! The taste is unquestionably different to similar food back home. I guess its what you'd expect but its only by sampling it for myself can I rant and rave about the real deal here with justification!
This was just about as much energy as I exerted here. I had to recover from my over exposure to the sun but maybe that proved to be a tad beneficial. Sitting outside, book in hand it was a real chance to unwind for a couple of days before I would be taking on Vegas! I could be sure there would be very little let up when I arrived there especially as I'd be there for the 4th of July festivities.
I may not have seen loads in Albuquerque but I'm glad I made it here. Its undoubtedly a very different side of the US and as I progress through this land I realise just how varied the Country is! Vegas next, and you can be damned sure thats going to be different again!
Thursday, 13 September 2007
The Route To Cult Status
I have to admit, I wasn't too disappointed to say goodbye to Dallas. It was unquestionably time to move on to pastures new. Albuquerque was said new pasture. As destinations go it was something rather different to the barrage of Cities that had been my home from the start of this trip. That's not to say the place isn't big, it is, but that the environment and atmosphere are from from the high rise, hustle and bustle of the Big Cities which had preceded it.
This place is different. Make no bones about it! I appeared to step back a decade or 2 when signing in at my new hostel. The Route 66 Hostel is a rarity on many levels. Hostels in Albuquerque are few and far between. I believe there may be one more floating around somewhere but that aside it was this or a motel. So here I was being told about their rather antiquated chore system. Yep, you heard that correctly. Now I was aware that's how hostels may once have worked but in this day and age its far from common. SO each morning before you leave its case of taking a card (each with a simple chore on it) and carrying out said task. I've yet to find another hostel in the world that still does this, I guess it makes this place a little unique.
Travelling Route 66 is undoubtedly one of those romantic notions of travelling the US. I might not have had the chance to do that but I was staying on a stretch of the Original Route 66 and would have to walk down the famous road to get anywhere in this Town. Strange as it may sound, that made me glow a little inside. To be staying on such an historic road and to wonder about all the dreams that may have been realised as the Kerouac generation sped down here in search of their own freedom.
Now, I'd already met some weird and wonderful people on my travels but Albuquerque would host possibly the strangest of the lot. Staying at the hostel were a seemingly endless stream of religious cult followers. very few travellers were inhabiting the hostel, instead it was overrun by a group of people who had come to see their "Spiritual Leader", Amma. It seems these folk had come from far and wide to get a hug from this woman. I later found out that Amma is in fact India's primary Spiritual Figure and a woman who has hugged more than 21 million people over the last 3 decades! They were as inoffensive a group of people as you could wish to meet. A little peculiar for sure but they came across as a pretty harmless bunch.
The result of infestation of Amma lovers was a real lack of travellers. I'd found a couple kicking about in my dorm room although our plans to find the local bars had put paid to one of them joining us. With US drinking laws stopping you drinking legally until you're 21, our 20 year old room mate wasn't able to come. We tried to convince him otherwise but he had decided to do other things instead. I wasn't going to argue a 2nd time.
Albuquerque's bar scene is centered around the 4th and Central area, about a 10 minute walk from the hostel and gave me the chance to try another local beer. Fat Tire is the beer of choice around these parts and whenever I asked for something local I was always "Have you tried Fat Tire"? Well, I'm delighted to say I have and what an awesome brew it is too! The further into America I get the more I realise just how good their beer really is. Its just a case of staying away from the Bud, the MGD and without doubt the ugly side of Yank beers, the Pabst Blue Ribbon! The bad side of American beers can, unfortunately get even worse than that, for the sake of everyone, pray you don't end up going down that avenue!
Albuquerque's night life may not be world renowned, heck it might not even be the best in the State but its got a bit going for it. The happy hour bars, the good beer and seemingly plentiful supplies of live music make it a good fun place to while away the hours. That said, watching thrash metal bands does not a happy Dave make. Still the beer was good. The people here seem to enjoy their nights out and like a good chat too. Sat in a few bars someone would start up a conversation 90% of the time. I like them odds!
This place is different. Make no bones about it! I appeared to step back a decade or 2 when signing in at my new hostel. The Route 66 Hostel is a rarity on many levels. Hostels in Albuquerque are few and far between. I believe there may be one more floating around somewhere but that aside it was this or a motel. So here I was being told about their rather antiquated chore system. Yep, you heard that correctly. Now I was aware that's how hostels may once have worked but in this day and age its far from common. SO each morning before you leave its case of taking a card (each with a simple chore on it) and carrying out said task. I've yet to find another hostel in the world that still does this, I guess it makes this place a little unique.
Travelling Route 66 is undoubtedly one of those romantic notions of travelling the US. I might not have had the chance to do that but I was staying on a stretch of the Original Route 66 and would have to walk down the famous road to get anywhere in this Town. Strange as it may sound, that made me glow a little inside. To be staying on such an historic road and to wonder about all the dreams that may have been realised as the Kerouac generation sped down here in search of their own freedom.
Now, I'd already met some weird and wonderful people on my travels but Albuquerque would host possibly the strangest of the lot. Staying at the hostel were a seemingly endless stream of religious cult followers. very few travellers were inhabiting the hostel, instead it was overrun by a group of people who had come to see their "Spiritual Leader", Amma. It seems these folk had come from far and wide to get a hug from this woman. I later found out that Amma is in fact India's primary Spiritual Figure and a woman who has hugged more than 21 million people over the last 3 decades! They were as inoffensive a group of people as you could wish to meet. A little peculiar for sure but they came across as a pretty harmless bunch.
The result of infestation of Amma lovers was a real lack of travellers. I'd found a couple kicking about in my dorm room although our plans to find the local bars had put paid to one of them joining us. With US drinking laws stopping you drinking legally until you're 21, our 20 year old room mate wasn't able to come. We tried to convince him otherwise but he had decided to do other things instead. I wasn't going to argue a 2nd time.
Albuquerque's bar scene is centered around the 4th and Central area, about a 10 minute walk from the hostel and gave me the chance to try another local beer. Fat Tire is the beer of choice around these parts and whenever I asked for something local I was always "Have you tried Fat Tire"? Well, I'm delighted to say I have and what an awesome brew it is too! The further into America I get the more I realise just how good their beer really is. Its just a case of staying away from the Bud, the MGD and without doubt the ugly side of Yank beers, the Pabst Blue Ribbon! The bad side of American beers can, unfortunately get even worse than that, for the sake of everyone, pray you don't end up going down that avenue!
Albuquerque's night life may not be world renowned, heck it might not even be the best in the State but its got a bit going for it. The happy hour bars, the good beer and seemingly plentiful supplies of live music make it a good fun place to while away the hours. That said, watching thrash metal bands does not a happy Dave make. Still the beer was good. The people here seem to enjoy their nights out and like a good chat too. Sat in a few bars someone would start up a conversation 90% of the time. I like them odds!
Wednesday, 12 September 2007
Cowboy Country!
Texas! Its famous for its malls, its barbecue ribs, its accent, and , of course, its Cowboys. Deciding that a couple of days in Downtown Dallas was more than enough I took to the DART again, this time in the opposite direction. Destination: Fort Worth.
I'd been told by a few people that one of the must see things whilst staying in Dallas was to take a visit to the Stockyards, home of all things Cowboy. It was an adventure in itself just to get here. Again, the area showing its lack of interest in tourists, it was a case of taking a regular bus there once I'd arrived at the Fort Worth DART station. There weer no signposts and no indication from the bus or bus driver as to where we were and as a result I stayed on the bus as we drove right passed it. It was nothing a backtracking walk wouldn't take care of but I figured there would at least be some indication of where it was.
It was however, unquestionably worth the effort. You can quickly see how this place might have looked in the days of yesteryear. Its catering for tourists now, of course but it retains a classic air. The old stores, the roads and the historic railroads, than whilst now no longer have helped keep the traditional cattle industry history alive. The Stockyard station is now an uninspiring bunch of shops that are neither here nor there but I did get my fill of Texas Barbecue Ribs at a nearby restaurant. The offer was an all you can eat one and it was difficult to turn down the chance to experience a real taste of Texas in the heart of the place itself.
Hearing that there would be a Cattle Run in the late afternoon I decided to stick around to see it and take in some of the other sites around the place before that hour came around. I passed by the Rodeo. I had really wanted to take in a show while I was here in Texas but with the last train back to the hostel being so early it rendered it virtually impossible. I would have to face up to missing out on that one. I caught "Billy Bob's" out of the corner of my eye and headed over. I'd been told this was a "Texas Institute" but had absolutely no idea what the place was about or what lay ahead inside. I decided the dollar entry was worth it to find out!
Billy Bob's is a bar. But no ordinary bar. Its a all in one, super sized mega bar! The giant arena plays host to not only the bar but a restaurant of epic proportions, 12 pool tables, a whole entertainment area and a Bucking Bronco that looks like some sort of "Ultimate Edition" if such a thing was available.
I had to pass on the Cowboy Hall of Fame unfortunately. I remain intrigued as to just what is inside that building. Maybe I'll find out one day but I was here now to see the Cattle Run. Crowds had gathered all around the area and had packed the streets to see what was a daily occurrence here. The cattle were brought down the streets with the Cowboys in control of their beasts. It wasn't anything fancy but I'm glad I did stick around to see it.
Getting back to the hostel could easily have taken me a couple of days. I had been waiting for the bus to take me back to the station when I heard a voice calling to me "That only runs on a Saturday. You'll be there all night if you wait there!". Once again, the helpful signposting here had nearly played havoc! Fortunately I was correctly informed and found my way back home without too many problems. There's no doubt that this trip is worth it and its certainly something different to Dallas! That in itself is a bonus!!
I'd been told by a few people that one of the must see things whilst staying in Dallas was to take a visit to the Stockyards, home of all things Cowboy. It was an adventure in itself just to get here. Again, the area showing its lack of interest in tourists, it was a case of taking a regular bus there once I'd arrived at the Fort Worth DART station. There weer no signposts and no indication from the bus or bus driver as to where we were and as a result I stayed on the bus as we drove right passed it. It was nothing a backtracking walk wouldn't take care of but I figured there would at least be some indication of where it was.
It was however, unquestionably worth the effort. You can quickly see how this place might have looked in the days of yesteryear. Its catering for tourists now, of course but it retains a classic air. The old stores, the roads and the historic railroads, than whilst now no longer have helped keep the traditional cattle industry history alive. The Stockyard station is now an uninspiring bunch of shops that are neither here nor there but I did get my fill of Texas Barbecue Ribs at a nearby restaurant. The offer was an all you can eat one and it was difficult to turn down the chance to experience a real taste of Texas in the heart of the place itself.
Hearing that there would be a Cattle Run in the late afternoon I decided to stick around to see it and take in some of the other sites around the place before that hour came around. I passed by the Rodeo. I had really wanted to take in a show while I was here in Texas but with the last train back to the hostel being so early it rendered it virtually impossible. I would have to face up to missing out on that one. I caught "Billy Bob's" out of the corner of my eye and headed over. I'd been told this was a "Texas Institute" but had absolutely no idea what the place was about or what lay ahead inside. I decided the dollar entry was worth it to find out!
Billy Bob's is a bar. But no ordinary bar. Its a all in one, super sized mega bar! The giant arena plays host to not only the bar but a restaurant of epic proportions, 12 pool tables, a whole entertainment area and a Bucking Bronco that looks like some sort of "Ultimate Edition" if such a thing was available.
I had to pass on the Cowboy Hall of Fame unfortunately. I remain intrigued as to just what is inside that building. Maybe I'll find out one day but I was here now to see the Cattle Run. Crowds had gathered all around the area and had packed the streets to see what was a daily occurrence here. The cattle were brought down the streets with the Cowboys in control of their beasts. It wasn't anything fancy but I'm glad I did stick around to see it.
Getting back to the hostel could easily have taken me a couple of days. I had been waiting for the bus to take me back to the station when I heard a voice calling to me "That only runs on a Saturday. You'll be there all night if you wait there!". Once again, the helpful signposting here had nearly played havoc! Fortunately I was correctly informed and found my way back home without too many problems. There's no doubt that this trip is worth it and its certainly something different to Dallas! That in itself is a bonus!!
Monday, 10 September 2007
Good Times In The Big Easy
When you read about New Orleans or someone tells you about the place. Whether fiction or factual the stories all seem to revolve around the same thing - Having a good time! The nightlife, the bars, the people and the music all combine to make the Big Easy one of the THE places to let your hair down and just party!
Katrina may have taken some of the people away but the feel good vibe had survived to some extent and whilst the bars may not have been heaving all over town there were places that still seemed to be thriving.
Whilst Bourbon Street may be the main tourist trap and home to bar after bar packed with tourists its still worth an evening spent supping on a bottle of MGD or Bud and catching some of the live music that thrives here. Jazz can be heard all over town, some of it annoying enough to give you a splitting headache in a little over 5 minutes. Jazz may not be my thing but being in New Orleans I gritted my teeth to sample a few bands hoping that somewhere along the line something would click with me. It still hasn't yet! Luckily jazz didn't fill every bar in town!
On my first evening in my new City I'd wound up going into town with a large group from the hostel and we'd taken ourselves away from Bourbon Street to Frenchman Street. Things here were a little different. The bars were full and there wasn't the sleaze around that was synonymous with Bourbon Street. Suffice to say the drinks flowed and as the hours flew past the group had split and I'd wound up supping a pint of "Purple Haze" - A local fruit beer in a place called Mi-Mi's where I had absolutely no idea where I was! That's what good nights are made of!
A few days into my stay in New Orleans and most of the people I'd been with, including me had felt like we'd seen Bourbon Street and hung around the French Quarter for our entertainment enough now. We wanted to get away from the tourists traps and get to actually meet some locals. The decision was made to head into the Downtown area, one we were strongly advised to stay away from, for an evening in the hopes of experiencing something a little different.
What we found was quite unexpected in a lot of ways but makes perfect sense the more you think about it. Initially we dumped ourselves in a couple of bars, these places were packed out and full of local spirit. There was a slightly uneasy feeling that we hadn't been invited but were never made to feel unwelcome. Some of the woman seemed a little wary of us and we couldn't help but think they were wondering why we weren't in the French Quarter with all the other out of towners.
A couple of people were kind enough to point us in the right direction for a decent club for the remainder of the night. If was a mixed bag of an affair and I had a feeling of being well and truly ignored for the most part, then as I was just about to call it a night it all changed. I was stood at the bar about to grab a soft drink before going home when the guy stood next to me got wind of my Nationality. "Let me buy you a drink". I was unsure, but he continued insistent "I wanna introduce you to some of my friends". The next thing I knew I had a bottle of beer in my hand and was chatting to a top bunch of people.
Whilst they wanted to know what the hell I was doing out here they were, all of them, thanking me for being here. I didn't really know what to make of it all. Suddenly we'd become mini celebs for a few moments. "Hey this guys from England, come and say hi" seemed to reverberate around the room despite the noise levels only allowing it to carry to the person next to the man shouting it.
The whole night was turning out to be quite surreal and without doubt exactly what we had been looking for. It didn't stop there either, as we were leaving I was caught and grabbed by a lass outside who, it seemed, had taken an instant shine to me. I have to admit to being totally taken in by her. We spoke for no longer than 30 minutes and I couldn't tell you her name but it was, strange as it may seem, one of those unforgettable moments on an unforgettable night.
Katrina may have taken some of the people away but the feel good vibe had survived to some extent and whilst the bars may not have been heaving all over town there were places that still seemed to be thriving.
Whilst Bourbon Street may be the main tourist trap and home to bar after bar packed with tourists its still worth an evening spent supping on a bottle of MGD or Bud and catching some of the live music that thrives here. Jazz can be heard all over town, some of it annoying enough to give you a splitting headache in a little over 5 minutes. Jazz may not be my thing but being in New Orleans I gritted my teeth to sample a few bands hoping that somewhere along the line something would click with me. It still hasn't yet! Luckily jazz didn't fill every bar in town!
On my first evening in my new City I'd wound up going into town with a large group from the hostel and we'd taken ourselves away from Bourbon Street to Frenchman Street. Things here were a little different. The bars were full and there wasn't the sleaze around that was synonymous with Bourbon Street. Suffice to say the drinks flowed and as the hours flew past the group had split and I'd wound up supping a pint of "Purple Haze" - A local fruit beer in a place called Mi-Mi's where I had absolutely no idea where I was! That's what good nights are made of!
A few days into my stay in New Orleans and most of the people I'd been with, including me had felt like we'd seen Bourbon Street and hung around the French Quarter for our entertainment enough now. We wanted to get away from the tourists traps and get to actually meet some locals. The decision was made to head into the Downtown area, one we were strongly advised to stay away from, for an evening in the hopes of experiencing something a little different.
What we found was quite unexpected in a lot of ways but makes perfect sense the more you think about it. Initially we dumped ourselves in a couple of bars, these places were packed out and full of local spirit. There was a slightly uneasy feeling that we hadn't been invited but were never made to feel unwelcome. Some of the woman seemed a little wary of us and we couldn't help but think they were wondering why we weren't in the French Quarter with all the other out of towners.
A couple of people were kind enough to point us in the right direction for a decent club for the remainder of the night. If was a mixed bag of an affair and I had a feeling of being well and truly ignored for the most part, then as I was just about to call it a night it all changed. I was stood at the bar about to grab a soft drink before going home when the guy stood next to me got wind of my Nationality. "Let me buy you a drink". I was unsure, but he continued insistent "I wanna introduce you to some of my friends". The next thing I knew I had a bottle of beer in my hand and was chatting to a top bunch of people.
Whilst they wanted to know what the hell I was doing out here they were, all of them, thanking me for being here. I didn't really know what to make of it all. Suddenly we'd become mini celebs for a few moments. "Hey this guys from England, come and say hi" seemed to reverberate around the room despite the noise levels only allowing it to carry to the person next to the man shouting it.
The whole night was turning out to be quite surreal and without doubt exactly what we had been looking for. It didn't stop there either, as we were leaving I was caught and grabbed by a lass outside who, it seemed, had taken an instant shine to me. I have to admit to being totally taken in by her. We spoke for no longer than 30 minutes and I couldn't tell you her name but it was, strange as it may seem, one of those unforgettable moments on an unforgettable night.
Friday, 7 September 2007
Sometimes you just Marvel!
Its not all that often that you come across inventions or just ideas that you marvel at but here In new Orleans they had a couple of them! The first was something I'd initially seen out in Memphis. I had to double check to see if what I was looking at was indeed what my eyes were telling me it was! Whilst down on Beale Street we'd passed a place that appeared to be a bar, selling drinks out of what appeared to be mini washing machines. Now if that doesn't make you do a double take, very little probably will!
Now here I was in New Orleans, taking in Bourbon Street and the French Quarter when what should we pass but another washing machine extravaganza. Whilst my eyes had now adjusted to seeing such a sight those I was with certainly hadn't! There was no doubt in anyones mind what was going to happen next.
The washing machines were housed in a bizarre looking place. Not quite a bar but not quite a cafe, it didn't really seem to know what it was. It did however know what it was selling. Cocktails and daiquiris straight out of these funny looking washing machine contraptions. These thing would churn around their variously and imaginatively named alcoholic slush puppies and a cup would be poured direct from it. An icy, sludge of a drink, cold as hell and rather lively in the alcohol department they were as much of an experience as the place itself. I dont think I'd go crazy to have another one but when you see something like that, you cant help but want to try it! There's no doubt that we'd just taken in one bizarre but somewhat unique experience!
Even better ideas were afoot at India House, my chosen hostel for the duration of my stay in the Big Easy. Shortly after arriving I'd heard a voice "Hey, how ya doing?" There was no doubt the tone was familiar. Darren and Lewis, two of the English lads I'd met in Nashville were also currently residing here, I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time I bumped into someone I'd met at an earlier point on this trip. It was hanging around in the outside communal area that I noticed ingenious idea number 2.
There was quite a large crowd of us, nattering and drinking away the early evening when my failure to make a visit to a supermarket or liquor store had resulted in me having a lack of beer. Low and behold I was informed of the machine sat not 10 meters away from me. "Just go get one out of there." I looked on to see a coke machine. "Umm...I was really after a beer." I was instructed to take a somewhat closer look at aforementioned machine.
Beer. Lots of it. Not a can of coke in sight. This was indeed a beer dispensing coke machine. Awesome! Whilst its beer selection may not be about to set the world on fire it had what was needed. No need to go out, no need to do anything. Just whack a dollar in the thing, and take out a nice cold can of cheep American Beer. There was now no need to worry about beer running out or coming back from a night out a fancying a beer only to not have any. Right here we had the perfect solution on hand.
I look forward with interest on the next brilliant idea I may come across!
Now here I was in New Orleans, taking in Bourbon Street and the French Quarter when what should we pass but another washing machine extravaganza. Whilst my eyes had now adjusted to seeing such a sight those I was with certainly hadn't! There was no doubt in anyones mind what was going to happen next.
The washing machines were housed in a bizarre looking place. Not quite a bar but not quite a cafe, it didn't really seem to know what it was. It did however know what it was selling. Cocktails and daiquiris straight out of these funny looking washing machine contraptions. These thing would churn around their variously and imaginatively named alcoholic slush puppies and a cup would be poured direct from it. An icy, sludge of a drink, cold as hell and rather lively in the alcohol department they were as much of an experience as the place itself. I dont think I'd go crazy to have another one but when you see something like that, you cant help but want to try it! There's no doubt that we'd just taken in one bizarre but somewhat unique experience!
Even better ideas were afoot at India House, my chosen hostel for the duration of my stay in the Big Easy. Shortly after arriving I'd heard a voice "Hey, how ya doing?" There was no doubt the tone was familiar. Darren and Lewis, two of the English lads I'd met in Nashville were also currently residing here, I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time I bumped into someone I'd met at an earlier point on this trip. It was hanging around in the outside communal area that I noticed ingenious idea number 2.
There was quite a large crowd of us, nattering and drinking away the early evening when my failure to make a visit to a supermarket or liquor store had resulted in me having a lack of beer. Low and behold I was informed of the machine sat not 10 meters away from me. "Just go get one out of there." I looked on to see a coke machine. "Umm...I was really after a beer." I was instructed to take a somewhat closer look at aforementioned machine.
Beer. Lots of it. Not a can of coke in sight. This was indeed a beer dispensing coke machine. Awesome! Whilst its beer selection may not be about to set the world on fire it had what was needed. No need to go out, no need to do anything. Just whack a dollar in the thing, and take out a nice cold can of cheep American Beer. There was now no need to worry about beer running out or coming back from a night out a fancying a beer only to not have any. Right here we had the perfect solution on hand.
I look forward with interest on the next brilliant idea I may come across!
Tuesday, 4 September 2007
All You Can Elvis
Beale Street maybe Downtown Memphis' big attraction but its slightly out of town superstar attraction is unquestionably the most visited tourist site in Tennessee. Graceland. Former home to Elvis. One of those rare superstars that need just the one name to be instantly recognisable.
I was always going to do it if I came to Memphis but learning that the most basic tour was priced at a staggering $33 was hardly music to a budget travellers ear. I would just have to suck it up and set off with Steve to explore all things Elvis. The tour itself gave us roughly 2 and a half hours to see everything and be back on the bus. Now when I say everything I mean the small portion of attractions that the basic ticket allows.
The key part of the deal though is covered. The mansion that was once home to "The King". Its smaller than you may think but jam packed with artifacts and a nifty audio tour (one of the best I've experienced) guides you through the various rooms. Having never been particularly into the man or his music it was interesting to learn about the man himself as I toured around. Its certainly an impressive place but only the most dedicated of fans would need more than a couple of hours to see it all.
Outside in what was essentially the back garden there was a tranquil vibe and an air of reflectiveness in the air as you passed by the pool where earlier video clips of a happy, full of life Elvis were being shown and onto the Presley family graves. This certainly gave me a lump in my throat and can only imagine what it must be like for those hardcore Elvis fans who make the pilgrimage here to pay tribute to their hero.
Feeling like we had covered the house we were left with just enough time to use the other available portion of our tickets and go take a quick look around Lisa Marie. I'm referring to Elvis' private jet before anyone gets the wrong impression! Whilst its certainly impressive and decked out to make the man feel like royalty its actually a little smaller than I had imagined once you get inside.
$33 lighter we headed back into town where an equally impressive experience befell us of an altogether different ilk! You've probably seen it on telly or in a film or heard stories of it somewhere but the giant steak challenge became a reality in Memphis. As I sat munching away on a somehow fatty looking salad a family entered the restaurant and took seat s just a table away. Giant beef challenge. I'd seen it on the menu. Complete the thing and all the trimmings in under an hour and earn your place on the wall of fame. Images of Bart trying to force feed Homer Simpson when no more meat would go down sprang to mind. Now here was a real life Homer, somewhat embarrassed family in tow as Dad ordered the mighty meat challenge. He'd even get his $19.99 for the meal should he complete it!
We didn't have the will to sit through the hour just to see if he could munch his way through a hefty four pounds of meat along with bread, fries and trimmings. I left smile on my mug that I had even had a chance to witness a true taste of Americana!
A trip to the Rock'n'Soul museum capped off the Memphis tourist trap day and again I felt somewhat disappointed. The place was fairly small and the exhibits mostly uninspiring. Coupled with what seemed like a never ending audio guide that wanted to keep talking at you like Cliff in Cheers it failed to set my world on fire.
Memphis as a whole had disappointed. Maybe I'd just fallen in love with Nashville and that had negatively impacted on my impression. It surely didn't help having to stay in a motel some distance out of town. I'd met several people along the way who had advised me that you really didn't need too long in Memphis. Some had done it as a day trip from Nashville to go and see Graceland and on reflection 2 nights would have been plenty. I decided to take it easy on my final day, making the most of my own room, some peace and quiet, a nice shower and a TV in my room. It was heaven to do for a day and helped recharge the batteries for a 5am start to get to New Orleans!
I was always going to do it if I came to Memphis but learning that the most basic tour was priced at a staggering $33 was hardly music to a budget travellers ear. I would just have to suck it up and set off with Steve to explore all things Elvis. The tour itself gave us roughly 2 and a half hours to see everything and be back on the bus. Now when I say everything I mean the small portion of attractions that the basic ticket allows.
The key part of the deal though is covered. The mansion that was once home to "The King". Its smaller than you may think but jam packed with artifacts and a nifty audio tour (one of the best I've experienced) guides you through the various rooms. Having never been particularly into the man or his music it was interesting to learn about the man himself as I toured around. Its certainly an impressive place but only the most dedicated of fans would need more than a couple of hours to see it all.
Outside in what was essentially the back garden there was a tranquil vibe and an air of reflectiveness in the air as you passed by the pool where earlier video clips of a happy, full of life Elvis were being shown and onto the Presley family graves. This certainly gave me a lump in my throat and can only imagine what it must be like for those hardcore Elvis fans who make the pilgrimage here to pay tribute to their hero.
Feeling like we had covered the house we were left with just enough time to use the other available portion of our tickets and go take a quick look around Lisa Marie. I'm referring to Elvis' private jet before anyone gets the wrong impression! Whilst its certainly impressive and decked out to make the man feel like royalty its actually a little smaller than I had imagined once you get inside.
$33 lighter we headed back into town where an equally impressive experience befell us of an altogether different ilk! You've probably seen it on telly or in a film or heard stories of it somewhere but the giant steak challenge became a reality in Memphis. As I sat munching away on a somehow fatty looking salad a family entered the restaurant and took seat s just a table away. Giant beef challenge. I'd seen it on the menu. Complete the thing and all the trimmings in under an hour and earn your place on the wall of fame. Images of Bart trying to force feed Homer Simpson when no more meat would go down sprang to mind. Now here was a real life Homer, somewhat embarrassed family in tow as Dad ordered the mighty meat challenge. He'd even get his $19.99 for the meal should he complete it!
We didn't have the will to sit through the hour just to see if he could munch his way through a hefty four pounds of meat along with bread, fries and trimmings. I left smile on my mug that I had even had a chance to witness a true taste of Americana!
A trip to the Rock'n'Soul museum capped off the Memphis tourist trap day and again I felt somewhat disappointed. The place was fairly small and the exhibits mostly uninspiring. Coupled with what seemed like a never ending audio guide that wanted to keep talking at you like Cliff in Cheers it failed to set my world on fire.
Memphis as a whole had disappointed. Maybe I'd just fallen in love with Nashville and that had negatively impacted on my impression. It surely didn't help having to stay in a motel some distance out of town. I'd met several people along the way who had advised me that you really didn't need too long in Memphis. Some had done it as a day trip from Nashville to go and see Graceland and on reflection 2 nights would have been plenty. I decided to take it easy on my final day, making the most of my own room, some peace and quiet, a nice shower and a TV in my room. It was heaven to do for a day and helped recharge the batteries for a 5am start to get to New Orleans!
Monday, 3 September 2007
Getting the Memphis Blues
Before leaving home I'd heard the stories, been told the tales and listened to the warnings. Greyhound was, in almost all cases, very bad news! My journey from Nashville to Memphis was my first chance to live this transportation experience first hand! I'd taken the warnings (or some of them) on board and this would at least be a short daytime trip.
It didn't start well. I'd arrived early and booked my ticket in plenty of time but the bus was oversubscribed. It was one of those stories I'd heard. The people telling me about their experiences flooding my head. How long would I be waiting here? Would another bus come?
I was somewhat dubious about trying to ask for help given the woman at the ticket counter had failed miserably to understand me. She'd asked for my name, even asked me to spell it. I duly obliged only to get a ticket in the name of Mr Timmeo. Hardly the most encouraging of signs. Still I was reliably informed that a 2nd bus would be along shortly.
As it turned out this was possibly the best thing that could have happened. Now I understand if you're in a rush or have a connection then this is hardly the ideal situation but the half hour delay meant a half empty bus and a couple of seats all to myself. A couple of stops and fours hours later I was in Memphis. Hardly the nightmare journey I had envisaged.
I had decided to cut my stay in Memphis down to just 3 nights after being told by many that it just wasn't worth it. Coupled with my enjoyment of Nashville and no hostel in Memphis it seemed like a sensible decision to add the extra day onto Nashville. It turned out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.
They don't appear to used to backpackers in Memphis. Indeed no hostel is a sure sign of that for starters. Budget options are not plentiful and I found myself staying in a Super 8 motel some distance out of town. Indeed arriving there I wondered where the hell I was! Cast away in the middle of nowhere off a couple of main roads and surrounded by very little indeed. My enquiry at the desk about where I could find food nearby was met initially by some driving instructions. I informed the man I didn't have a car. His 2nd reaction was laughter. His third was to hand me a pizza leaflet. Nice.
I was joined mid pizza munching by Steve who had arrived a day earlier from Nashville and the two of us headed out via the hostel "shuttle" (aka someones car) downtown to spend an evening with the City Centre's number 1 attraction - Beale Street.
Renowned for its plentiful bars and live blues music Beale street has traditionally been the heart and soul of Memphis. I went with high expectations of a blues equivalent of Nashville what I actually found was rather disappointing.
We took a walk from one end to the other to see what was available and decided to bar hop for a bit just to sample what was on offer in various establishments. The first bar we took our money to was, unfortunately, a sign of things to come. A splattering of maybe 3 or 4 people and us. The Cardinals weer up on the screen behind the bar but there was little else there to make it worthwhile staying past an opening beer.
Our search for some life too us through several more bars of a similar ilk. Dead, soulless places. Maybe on the weekend it gets livelier here but after Nashville there was an undoubted disappointment in what lay before us.
We did eventually find a place with some live music and more of an atmosphere, our jubilation was short lived though on learning that 90% of those in the bar were fresh off a Contiki Tour. We ended up staying to they kicked us out at the midnight hour (not exactly rock'n'roll opening times!) and found our way to one final bar, in fact the only one we could find open and joined the handful of other people whiling the late hours away with another beer.
All in all Beale Street didn't just fail to impress it downright depressed. Maybe we were spoilt in Nashville. Maybe my expectations were too high but Beale Street just didn't cut it for me. Not one little bit.
It didn't start well. I'd arrived early and booked my ticket in plenty of time but the bus was oversubscribed. It was one of those stories I'd heard. The people telling me about their experiences flooding my head. How long would I be waiting here? Would another bus come?
I was somewhat dubious about trying to ask for help given the woman at the ticket counter had failed miserably to understand me. She'd asked for my name, even asked me to spell it. I duly obliged only to get a ticket in the name of Mr Timmeo. Hardly the most encouraging of signs. Still I was reliably informed that a 2nd bus would be along shortly.
As it turned out this was possibly the best thing that could have happened. Now I understand if you're in a rush or have a connection then this is hardly the ideal situation but the half hour delay meant a half empty bus and a couple of seats all to myself. A couple of stops and fours hours later I was in Memphis. Hardly the nightmare journey I had envisaged.
I had decided to cut my stay in Memphis down to just 3 nights after being told by many that it just wasn't worth it. Coupled with my enjoyment of Nashville and no hostel in Memphis it seemed like a sensible decision to add the extra day onto Nashville. It turned out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.
They don't appear to used to backpackers in Memphis. Indeed no hostel is a sure sign of that for starters. Budget options are not plentiful and I found myself staying in a Super 8 motel some distance out of town. Indeed arriving there I wondered where the hell I was! Cast away in the middle of nowhere off a couple of main roads and surrounded by very little indeed. My enquiry at the desk about where I could find food nearby was met initially by some driving instructions. I informed the man I didn't have a car. His 2nd reaction was laughter. His third was to hand me a pizza leaflet. Nice.
I was joined mid pizza munching by Steve who had arrived a day earlier from Nashville and the two of us headed out via the hostel "shuttle" (aka someones car) downtown to spend an evening with the City Centre's number 1 attraction - Beale Street.
Renowned for its plentiful bars and live blues music Beale street has traditionally been the heart and soul of Memphis. I went with high expectations of a blues equivalent of Nashville what I actually found was rather disappointing.
We took a walk from one end to the other to see what was available and decided to bar hop for a bit just to sample what was on offer in various establishments. The first bar we took our money to was, unfortunately, a sign of things to come. A splattering of maybe 3 or 4 people and us. The Cardinals weer up on the screen behind the bar but there was little else there to make it worthwhile staying past an opening beer.
Our search for some life too us through several more bars of a similar ilk. Dead, soulless places. Maybe on the weekend it gets livelier here but after Nashville there was an undoubted disappointment in what lay before us.
We did eventually find a place with some live music and more of an atmosphere, our jubilation was short lived though on learning that 90% of those in the bar were fresh off a Contiki Tour. We ended up staying to they kicked us out at the midnight hour (not exactly rock'n'roll opening times!) and found our way to one final bar, in fact the only one we could find open and joined the handful of other people whiling the late hours away with another beer.
All in all Beale Street didn't just fail to impress it downright depressed. Maybe we were spoilt in Nashville. Maybe my expectations were too high but Beale Street just didn't cut it for me. Not one little bit.
Thursday, 23 August 2007
A Brit infestation and a Norwegian Girl
It was funny saying goodbye to St Louis. I'd spent 8 days there, the longest I've spent in any one place while travelling till this point and the place had grown on me. I was sorry to have to say goodbye to the place and its people and had that strange feeling of leaving somewhere you know and headed again for the unknown.
My first flight in the US was a funny one, a plane taking no more than about 60 people, you could feel every movement and every turn in your stomach, something I've never had before. Fortunately it was only an hours flight to Nashville.
The hostel itself was pretty laid back, no one was there to check me in so a Scottish lass who was staying there and was at college for a while In Nashville showed me to my dorm. The place is pretty small and the only hostel in Nashville. One thing struck me immediately - It was full of Brits! They've never known it like it apparently but somewhere in the region of three quarters of the hostel population was British! I met a couple of English guys who had been road tripping together through the US and one, Lewis, was following a similar rtw path to me. They all seemed like a decent bunch and we agreed to meet up later and go out.
Later a bunch of us got chatting outside the hostel and we all ended up piling into 3 cabs and going downtown to some bars. My first taste of the Nashville nightlife was bizarre. We hit up 3 or 4 bars that night, country music filled the places we entered. Not knowing much about it at all I just went with it.
As the evening progressed I watched a rather entertaining moment unfold. One of the English guys had latched on to a rather stunning looking Norwegian girl. Now she'd been drinking most of the afternoon and evening and wasn't in too good shape. Still she knew what she wanted - The most expensive drink on the menu and yep, the English guy was going to pay for it. back at the table she proceeded to lose her balance and knock the drink flying all oer herself and a couple of others. Nice work! Even nicer was the way she proceeded to blame a couple from Leicester (Jon and Jo) for her work. They, of course, had done nothing wrong yet still made an apology. She wouldn't hear of this, called her a bitch and went off in a huff. Seriously I wouldn't want to be with someone so stuck up themselves like that, no matter how beautiful they are!
I returned to the hostel with Jon and Jo and was almost delighted to hear stories of the Norwegian lass puking her guts up, leaving the English guy to wonder what on earth went wrong! Can you say "just desserts?".
My first flight in the US was a funny one, a plane taking no more than about 60 people, you could feel every movement and every turn in your stomach, something I've never had before. Fortunately it was only an hours flight to Nashville.
The hostel itself was pretty laid back, no one was there to check me in so a Scottish lass who was staying there and was at college for a while In Nashville showed me to my dorm. The place is pretty small and the only hostel in Nashville. One thing struck me immediately - It was full of Brits! They've never known it like it apparently but somewhere in the region of three quarters of the hostel population was British! I met a couple of English guys who had been road tripping together through the US and one, Lewis, was following a similar rtw path to me. They all seemed like a decent bunch and we agreed to meet up later and go out.
Later a bunch of us got chatting outside the hostel and we all ended up piling into 3 cabs and going downtown to some bars. My first taste of the Nashville nightlife was bizarre. We hit up 3 or 4 bars that night, country music filled the places we entered. Not knowing much about it at all I just went with it.
As the evening progressed I watched a rather entertaining moment unfold. One of the English guys had latched on to a rather stunning looking Norwegian girl. Now she'd been drinking most of the afternoon and evening and wasn't in too good shape. Still she knew what she wanted - The most expensive drink on the menu and yep, the English guy was going to pay for it. back at the table she proceeded to lose her balance and knock the drink flying all oer herself and a couple of others. Nice work! Even nicer was the way she proceeded to blame a couple from Leicester (Jon and Jo) for her work. They, of course, had done nothing wrong yet still made an apology. She wouldn't hear of this, called her a bitch and went off in a huff. Seriously I wouldn't want to be with someone so stuck up themselves like that, no matter how beautiful they are!
I returned to the hostel with Jon and Jo and was almost delighted to hear stories of the Norwegian lass puking her guts up, leaving the English guy to wonder what on earth went wrong! Can you say "just desserts?".
Wednesday, 22 August 2007
Beer, Baseball and Bowling!
The three Bs make up the final chapter in the St Louis adventures. A game at Busch and the Gateway Arch may be what defines St Louis but there are certainly a few other little things to keep you entertained.
First to 2 of the three Bs, baseball and bowling. Not two things you would think go hand in hand, yet here in St Louis they sit side by side like a couple by a fireplace in the heart of winter. Let me introduce the ST Louis Cardinals Hall of Fame, also housing (and free as part of your ticket, the National Bowling Hall of Fame. Who knew the two were so closely linked!
The Cardinals HOF was, of course, my main main reason for visiting. Housing Cardinals historic memorabilia from past to present. Artifacts from the likes of Stan "The Man" Musial, Lou Brock and Bob Gibson and one of the modern day gems, the car given to Mark McGwire for hitting his record breaking 70th Home Run in 1998. One of the things about getting into baseball is learning how highly the history of the game and its players are thought of. The great players from the past enshrined not only here but in Cooperstown, New York in the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Somewhere I didn't get to visit on this trip but hope one day to make it to. Its something we just don't get in England.
A chance to view a replica World Series trophy, to take in game worn shirts and balls used in historic moments throughout the franchises history made a captivating day for me. It may not be every persons idea of an interesting day out but for me it was a perfect accompaniment to a few games at Busch.
Once done with the Cardinals HOF it leads you straight onto the Bowling HOF, something I know very little about but was able to take in and learn a little of the history of the game and whilst I may not have known who the hell any of those enshrined it made for an interesting half hour or so before hitting the lanes themselves to throw a complimentary few frames. I'd gone with Claire in the days she was around and we'd decided to stick about and have a couple of games, made all the better for the ludicrously cheap prices they charged! Undoubtedly a fun day out!
So it all finishes here on the subject of St Louis' other treasure. The beer. Here lies the home of Anheuser Busch, brewers of Americas favourite, Budweiser. The home of Bud lies just a 10 minute walk from the hostel and there was no way I could come her and not visit. So on my last full day in the home of the Red Birds I took the free tour of the brewery. The grounds are quite simply huge. Almost a mini City within the City.
The tour takes you around the various processes and plants, with a Chance to see the famous Clydesdale horses and, of course, to sample the wares at the end of the tour. I certainly wasn't aware of the huge variety of beers the place makes. Its Budweiser that is king of course but its certainly not all they make! I got to sample a fabulous Bock whilst there and am disappointed not to have seen it anywhere since!
It may not have the glamour of the Guinness tour in Dublin but you do actually get to see far more of the plant than its Irish counterpart. Given its free nature its more than worth the effort.
I also had the chance to sample another local beer "Boulevard". A tasty Wheat beer from the Kansas City region. Budweiser may be the king of beers but I was already understanding what the real joy of beer drinking was in the US! There is so much more to it than is portrayed back at home. We think of American beer, we think of Bud or Miller and such likes, what we fail t understand is just how big a part the micro breweries play in the beer market here in the US. I for one am delighted to be finding out! More beer and Whiskey or two may well be on the way as Tennessee approaches!
First to 2 of the three Bs, baseball and bowling. Not two things you would think go hand in hand, yet here in St Louis they sit side by side like a couple by a fireplace in the heart of winter. Let me introduce the ST Louis Cardinals Hall of Fame, also housing (and free as part of your ticket, the National Bowling Hall of Fame. Who knew the two were so closely linked!
The Cardinals HOF was, of course, my main main reason for visiting. Housing Cardinals historic memorabilia from past to present. Artifacts from the likes of Stan "The Man" Musial, Lou Brock and Bob Gibson and one of the modern day gems, the car given to Mark McGwire for hitting his record breaking 70th Home Run in 1998. One of the things about getting into baseball is learning how highly the history of the game and its players are thought of. The great players from the past enshrined not only here but in Cooperstown, New York in the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Somewhere I didn't get to visit on this trip but hope one day to make it to. Its something we just don't get in England.
A chance to view a replica World Series trophy, to take in game worn shirts and balls used in historic moments throughout the franchises history made a captivating day for me. It may not be every persons idea of an interesting day out but for me it was a perfect accompaniment to a few games at Busch.
Once done with the Cardinals HOF it leads you straight onto the Bowling HOF, something I know very little about but was able to take in and learn a little of the history of the game and whilst I may not have known who the hell any of those enshrined it made for an interesting half hour or so before hitting the lanes themselves to throw a complimentary few frames. I'd gone with Claire in the days she was around and we'd decided to stick about and have a couple of games, made all the better for the ludicrously cheap prices they charged! Undoubtedly a fun day out!
So it all finishes here on the subject of St Louis' other treasure. The beer. Here lies the home of Anheuser Busch, brewers of Americas favourite, Budweiser. The home of Bud lies just a 10 minute walk from the hostel and there was no way I could come her and not visit. So on my last full day in the home of the Red Birds I took the free tour of the brewery. The grounds are quite simply huge. Almost a mini City within the City.
The tour takes you around the various processes and plants, with a Chance to see the famous Clydesdale horses and, of course, to sample the wares at the end of the tour. I certainly wasn't aware of the huge variety of beers the place makes. Its Budweiser that is king of course but its certainly not all they make! I got to sample a fabulous Bock whilst there and am disappointed not to have seen it anywhere since!
It may not have the glamour of the Guinness tour in Dublin but you do actually get to see far more of the plant than its Irish counterpart. Given its free nature its more than worth the effort.
I also had the chance to sample another local beer "Boulevard". A tasty Wheat beer from the Kansas City region. Budweiser may be the king of beers but I was already understanding what the real joy of beer drinking was in the US! There is so much more to it than is portrayed back at home. We think of American beer, we think of Bud or Miller and such likes, what we fail t understand is just how big a part the micro breweries play in the beer market here in the US. I for one am delighted to be finding out! More beer and Whiskey or two may well be on the way as Tennessee approaches!
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