Tomorrow morning I leave Belgium and head to England. In preparation, I am calmly devouring the remaining bottles of Belgian beer that I have acquired during my three weeks here. This blog post happens to be about one of them.
A stunning combination of having previously lived in and photographed the s*$& out of Ghent, a general indifference to taking lots of new photos, a camera that fairs poorly in darkly lit cafés, and questionable photography skills, has led to the vast majority of my photos from Ghent thus far being of inferior quality. But there’s something kind of punk and artsy about that, isn’t there?
Among my many visits in Ghent these past two weeks was a small drinking session with my second host brother Thibaud. For our third drink we were joined by Thibaud’s friend Henri, who just so happens to be my first host brother!
My next day in Brussels, Tuesday 3 October, I took advantage of our friends’ lovely backyard by installing myself with two grocery store bought beers. The cats then did their part by installing themselves on wall and lawn respectively.
For those of you who don’t know, I have received a two year visa for the UK, and I will soon be spending a lot of time exploring England, and perhaps eventually working in a pub. First though, I have returned to Belgium to visit some of my favourite people and cafés, not necessarily in that order. Going forward, you can expect my blog to become in part a travel blog, complemented by the usual drink reviews.
If you read my British Beer Bottles post, you would know that I have been cleaning out my room. While in that post I disposed of several bottles that I had never even sampled, this time around I have managed to get rid of several bottles that I did personally consume, some of them even for this blog.
Long ago during my year in Belgium I fell in love with Flemish sour ales, both the oud bruins of East Flanders, and the Flemish reds of West Flanders. When I returned to Canada, I was ecstatic to discover the existence of Storm Brewing’s Imperial Flanders Sour Red Ale in Vancouver. After many years of sampling it, but never taking notes, things finally reached critical mass when Ian became aware of its existence and offered to bring a squealer (32oz bottle) back to Vernon for a tasting notes session. Not only did he come back with the beer, but he also provided me with the following narration of his outing.