Postcards from somewhen else

Postcard from Prague

Prague. Even the name sounds steeped in history.

I am in Prague….

I am going to Prague….

When I was in Prague…

Try it with Mouth Gambier in the title and you’ll get the gist. It’s classy, and not in a 70’s matching jumpsuit sort of way (not that there is anything wrong with that sort of classy) more in a regal we got a lot of history sort of way.

The Charles Bridge, the Prague Castle, the Horoscope clock, the Museum with the bullet holes, that square which name eludes me as I type this but its where the revolution kicked off…. heck even their revolution was classy (and not in a permed and high heels sort of way )  -the velvet revolution! If I had a choice of revolution that’s the one I am going to be in. It’s a good place.

And their beer is 50p per pint. For those without good currency conversions skills, that’s not a lot for a heck of lot of beer. It is in fact the cheapest drink and as a backpacker with a limited budget I had to save my pennies.

Hence why my recollection of Prague includes such memories as “that square which name eludes me as I type this but it’s where the revolution kicked off” Yep, details not good but id o have quite a good knowledge of Prague beer. Do you know they have a purity law!

Yes I was pissed for ten days in Prague. I have some memories. Mostly of a whopping beer hangover as I landed in London (sorry not a classy name BTW) I remember the Charles Bridge which is over the Staropramen River, Prague castle with the famous Budvar ballroom plus the monument to Pilsner Urquell in the centre square near where that clock with the pint glasses go round and everyone takes photos off. Burp

It’s a lovely place. Seriously

Beer (and family)

A guest post by Andrew W Harper
 

Angry? I don’t get angry any more, except at family. 

And even that is a waste of time, as I’m in my damn 40’s and my parents are in their sixties and my sole remaining grand parent – the least likeable one – is 86 today and he really can’t bothered. The highlight of his day is going to be some scallops and the two beers the doctor allows him to have daily. He likes those beers but I do NOT get it – he gets those god-awful Tooheys Red Blocks.

Thing is  - we’re in Tasmania. You know what we have here that you don’t that actually means something?

CASCADE BEER.

Yep, stuff the environment and the view from Mt Wellington and the cheeses and the lifestyle, that’s all hippy bullshit that tree changing twats think is what life in Little Tassie is all about, but those of us who grew up taking baths in Cascade Pale Ale, washing our hair in the Stout and drinking the Blue (the lager, the best one, the one that evil evil CUB tried to kill off when they bought our precious brewery) , we stay here because of one big thing: mainland (that’s you lot, he said, reaching for his banjo) beers is the very Urine Of The Goat. It’s DISGRACEFUL. You lot cannot make beer to save yourselves, except The Coopers Family, and South Australia is a whole different thing anyway, doesn’t count and doesn’t in any way make up for VB or even worse, XXXX – that stuff is goanna vomit diliuted with Wombat Pee.

And my granddad, salt of the earth, war veteran, life-long Tasmanian – he doesn’t like Cascade.

I don’t get it at all but he’s 86 and I guess he’s allowed to drink fermented magpie droppings if that’s what he wants to do. I just have to respect that, because that’s what family is all about: not telling people they are morons to their faces, but going home and chewing your poor wife’s ear off over a decent cleanskin. That’s all you can do, and that’s all I intend to do, but I swear I’m going to drink a Pale Ale in front of him because the best birthday gift I can truly give the old bastard is something to abuse me about – because you should here his descriptions of Cascade. It may be Nectar to me, but he manages to combine classic old school racism with an encyclopedic knowledge of Australian Wildlife in his invective, and as much as I cannot stand it, cannot condone it and find it hard to put up with, it will be like music – because I have learned it’s pointless getting angry.

Happy Birthday Granddad. I wish we could share a beer but it’s all about beer ABUSE and it keeps us together, because at least neither of us are micro-brew wankers.

But that is another story, and shall be told another time

Andrew blogs here and here

I like beer. Captain AR Pants esq