Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

As ever, when I start on this column, I haven’t got a clue what I am going to write about without repeating myself or getting caught in a cul-de-sac of unreason, where no beer does sing. And then it becomes obvious, what I want to write about is the infinite and indivisible appeal of beer,…

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Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

I have been travelling once more in search of beer and pubs and it seems as if I have thrown on a cloak of strangeness. Used to my own pubs, which I have visited regularly since April, on coming to somewhere new there is hesitation at the door, a where-do-I-sit and do-I-need-a-mask and is-it-table-or-bar-service kind…

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(Constrained) Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

I belong to a Facebook group whose members post old photos of my home town — school pics whose young and eager-looking pupils are now in care homes, the beach on whose promenade stroll carefree Edwardians unaware of the express train of war coming their way, and various other nostalgic shots guaranteed to make most…

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Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

I arrived in Newport mid-afternoon, parked the car outside the hotel. The sound of Newport was the sound of screeching seagulls and barking sea lions, while the smell was of the briny sea and rotting fish (down on a deck below the harbour a seagull pecked at a salmon’s head), alongside the catch of roasting…

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Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

Sorry about this, but I like. No make it love. I love beer. I am unapologetic in my love of beer and the pubs and bars where I drink it with the gusto and bravado of a buffalo running free on the range. Let’s step back a second. Why do I feel the need to…

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Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

Peeling plaster, the guts of the walls visible as if wounded in a titanic struggle; metallic ducts range freely alongside one wall just beneath the ceiling; a concrete floor, implacable in the face it offers to the world, the scrape of the metal legs of a bench on which you sit; a bar built from…

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Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

I know who you are, I’ve seen you in my dreams, read about you in a book, glimpsed you in a film, I know who you are. It’s that moment of recognition when you arrive somewhere, which could be a city, a town, a locality, a shore, a pub, the home of a person who…

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Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

So you’ve been drinking a brewery’s beers for years; you know the beers of theirs that you really enjoy and at times have drunk far too much of them (remember when a London licensee had a keg of the brewery’s strongest and you made serious inroads into it, yes that moment of inebriation?). You also…

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Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

It seems kinda funny now this feeling I recall, but back in 2003 my taste buds were all shook up in a small room above a pub, whose name I’ve forgotten, in central London. It was one of the bi-annual beer tastings that Safeway’s, as it was known before being swallowed by Morrison’s, used to…

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Beer Travels with Adrian Tierney-Jones

Some journeys never end, which is why the other day I was like a wide-eyed child of the recent past transfixed in an old school sweetshop, surrounded by all manner of tooth-rotting, blood sugar-spiking delights: gobstoppers, sherbet dabs, liquorice all-sorts, and chocolate buttons. However, I wasn’t in a sweetshop, but instead was in one of…

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