Emmet Ryan really meant to write about basketball today but then he went on a pub crawl
So towards the end of Wednesday night’s session I met an English dude. It was in Hopfenreich, great spot, and he tells me about a beer and ice cream pairing evening happening on Thursday. How could BiE not answer the call?
Yeah so last night’s column was heavy going. I slept a solid 11 hours on the mattress that is my bed here. I love the Spartan feel to this place but there’s no way I sleep 11 hours straight in a room with no curtains unless I’m wrecked and that was a lot to take in for one day. Berlin’s defiance continues to rouse my spirits but my body knows how to keep me in check. After grabbing my accreditation today (which was disappointingly efficient, I was hoping to have to shoot the shit with volunteers for a while) it was time to do what I like to call the PEOPLE’S work.
That English dude had given me solid directions. I wound up in a random ass open air area talking to Americans, English, and locals. One of the American transplants had previously dated an Irish dude and casually dropped in the odd us of ‘fucking shite’ and ‘grand’ which was genuinely delightful. The foetal stage of Berlin’s craft beer culture was on full display here. They wanted to embrace it but in a way that was true to the city. So here we all were, outdoors, drinking krieks paired with peanut butter bacon brittle ice cream. It worked but there was no way a column could begin and end there.
So the march began on the bahn. First to Markthalle Neun, which literally everyone had raved to me about. It was fine but, to be honest, if I hadn’t found the Heiden Peters crew it would have been forgettable. Business picked up back at Hopfenreich where the conversation went like this…
Me: Haben Sie Wifi
Barman: Nein
Random barfly: IPA
Yup, I can live with that.
So I had a couple of Blackt Wit(ch) beers there while listening to some tourists mention how they hated Iceland because it was too expensive. Dude, Iceland just beat the Dutch in football and are about to play in this very city in EuroBasket for the first time. You are in Kreuzberg, home of the hipsters, and there isn’t a team in this competition more a daling of the hipsters than Iceland. After listening to that dude’s moaning I finished my beer and returned to Bourbon Dogs. I knew the barmaid from last night wasn’t on but I was instead greeted by a fellow Gael, a young lad from Limerick who was working across a few pubs in the city. Dude was cool and so was the other barmaid. A stressful, by which I mean irritating, customer had just left before I entered and once more I had te bar to myself. It’s such a pity because this is a joint that needs a crowd. Limerick dude is flying home in a day or two to see the family but Berlin is his home now. It’s a city that suits him. When I was tidying up to leave he sent me to John Muirs.
BiE nation. BIE NATION…we went to a new world tonight
It turns out there is a craft brewery in Liechtenstein. Yes, Liechtenstein and I got the barmaid to write it down because I knew I would be too drunk to remember. Liechtensteiner Alpen Pale Ale is a perfectly nice pale ale under normal circumstances but look to that pic at the top of this post and know that I’m drinking something special. If that tiny place can make a decent beer, there’s hope for roughly everywhere. I’m sure my excitement caught the barmaid by surprise when confirmed it is, indeed, from Liechtenstein. Tremendous landlocked hustle kids.
We are now just two sleeps from EuroBasket. For most of you reading this, it’s just one sleep, and Kreuzberg has had its impact on me. Tomorrow, I am taking measures to ensure I know I am in this town for more than basketball. I’m heading to a play my AirBnB host is in. I have no idea what to expect but I’m sure glad it has subtitles. From there, I’m hoping to find out more from this city but I’ve learned plenty already. The only crucial step from here, aside from delivering the best coverage of EuroBasket online, is to convince Goranka to bring the FIBA posse to Bourbon Dogs.
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