Wednesday in the Victoria and Friday in the errr, nowhere

On Wednesday I had a pre-planned (unusual for me) night out at a pub, with, wait for it, some friends (highly unusual for me {sob}).

It was at the Victoria and was most pleasant, thanks for asking.  It was also uncharacteristically pleasant to stay in one pub, all night, and work my way through their wares.  I was happily reacquainted with some old favourites, whom in some cases, I have not sampled for far too long.

Brewdog 5AM Saint rarely disappoints, and must be one of their best, yes?

The Flying Dog Doggie Style was a new one for me and enjoyably hoppy and drinkable, in a sort of 2006 kind of way.  What does that mean?  Well, it merely means that in 2006 I was drinking lots of new US beers with the same sort of hop profile.  Is that OK?

Jaipur was (and is), well, Jaipur.  Very juicy.

Brother Rabbit, also from Thornbridge was another new one for me, and not my favourite from these reliable lads.  The sunshiney hops were by turns 'a bit' juicy, and then 'a bit' straw-ish.

The Kirin lager was lager.  I don't think I am able to handle lager any more.  It's been so long since I drank it, and it makes me feel a little bit queasy, and a little bit like Morrissey might have felt when asked to do cross-country running at school.  

The Wye Valley Butty Bach was terribly run of the mill.  Not terrible.  Served in good nick, but utterly lacking in inspiring flavours.

The Maisel's Weisse was fluffy, smooth like a satin bedspread and undulating with it's cakey, creamy manifestations.

The Brooklyn Lager was perfectly acceptable, and rather slick.

The Victoria has lots of lovely murals, appropriate lighting levels and a good atmos.  My fellow drinkers made me feel like an old git and no mistake, but that's my problem and not theirs.  I wish I had been as well dressed as them, when I was their age.

And then I went home. 

As a quick addendum, let me tell you about tonight's beer hunting.  With a window of about 10 minutes after work, I trooped in and out of three pubs and tried.... zero beers.  There was nothing on offer which excited me, so rather than blithely sup a half of this or that, I kept my wonga in my pocket.  Does that represent exceptional strength of mind, or gargantuan beer snobbery?  Only you can decide.

Is it wrong to want to drink on your own?

We all know that pubs are sociable places and that, therefore an interest in good beer is a very healthy hobby for a growing boy.

But what if, for a variety of boring reasons you find yourself starved of suitable drinking partners?  What if wandering into a pub and striking up a conversation with the jolly locals fills you with a sense of creeping dread?

Surely there is room in this crazy old world for someone who likes pub crawls, nice boozers, quality beer produce and yet, oh and yet is not ready for either professional alcoholism or a flat cap and pint of brown ale supped sadly in the corner?

Since the onset of parenthood (and the accompanying reduced wallet thickness) I have fought to establish new beer drinking routines, but the one constant has been that planning in advance is very difficult.  This therefore discounts the chance to organise pub crawls and meet ups with chums in advance.  When I am able to get out, no one else is about, so this has seen the rise of a new phenomen - the stolen crawl.

What is the stolen crawl?  Well, when wife and daughter are out for the afternoon, then suddenly an opportunity has presented itself, so it's straight onto Google maps, cross referenced with the bus route finder and with a quick nose through Ratebeer places and beerinthevening, to find pubs which are both reasonable and reachable.  With a window of 2-3 hours (or even less) I have grown rather proficient at hitting lots of pubs, with a military mindset - Bus > pub > drink half > next pub > drink half > home (etc).

Now this is all rather positive, but I do have the persistent nagging feeling that I am completely missing the point: after all I don't talk to anyone during the crawl (save barstaff), so is the experience of the good beers I sample diminished?  I tend to think not, for I am anti-social at heart, but I worry how I am viewed by others.

What worries me more, is that I am actually growing to love drinking on my own.  I set the pace of my drinking, meaning that my legendarily low constitution is not exposed.  I also choose the route and speed of the crawl, satisfying my curiosity for new pubs, without dragging others in my wake.  I am also allowed to behave in a baffling manner, as and when I choose - i.e. leaving a wonderful pub, to go and sample horrible produce in a hovel; just so I can mark off another venue as 'done'. 

What would Morrissey think of it all?  I think I need to feel comfortable in my own drinking skin.