Over the weekend, Ray and Jess of Boak and Bailey asked on their BlueSky account for a list of 3 pubs you must visit before you meet your demise. Thankfully they included the caveat that "You can do 10 if 3 is too hard". Yeah, 3 was way too hard, 10 was a challenge, but I trimmed my list down to just 10. Within the character limit of BlueSky, I couldn't elaborate much, but over here in Fuggled world, I can explain/justify my choices. There is no particular order in this list, so let's not get hung up on those kind of trivialities...
The Bon Accord - Glasgow
I have waxed lyrical about the Bon Accord several times, even though it has been about 9 years since I darkened the door of that most august of establishments. Not only is it a superb pub to get a pint or several of well kept real ale, it has a whisky list to die for, including 25 year old Talisker which was the perfect ending to the last trip Mrs V and I made to the Bon Accord in 2016. Oh and did I mention they do an all-day fried breakfast that would keep the Royal Navy running.
Beim Gloser - Windischeschenbach
If I have one regret from my life in central Europe it's that I never took the train from Prague to Schwandorf, and from thence to Windischeschenbach in order to delve into Zoigl world. I still have it on my bucket list of things to do eventually, maybe next time I get to Europe for a conference and have a couple of days spare to do a little personal side trip. Of the various Zoiglstuben in the remaining villages with a communal brewhouse, why do I want to visit Beim Gloser in particular - well it's simple really, it looks like the archetypal Wirtshaus as written about by Franz over on Tempest in a Tankard. Take a look at the pictures on their website and you'll see what I mean.
Brauerei Spezial, Bamberg
U Slovanské lipy, Prague
If you know me in the slightest, this one takes no explaining whatsoever. For the final couple of years that Mrs V and I spent in Prague, U Slovanské lipy was high on our list of regular haunts. It was less than 20 minutes from our apartment, it was the only pub in Prague, at the time, to have Kout na Šumavě's entire range of beers on tap, and after several pints the walk home was all down hill. I loved that place, nay, I love that place. Sure, it now has a rotating set of taps, and Kout na Šumavě are no more, but it still has the same, local, non-touristy, vibe that I always loved. Every time I have been back to the city in the last few years I organise a meet up with friends there largely because it is one of the models of perfection in my beery universe.
Pivovarský klub, Prague
Another place that means so much to me, so much so that I remember the exact date I first walked through its doors and went down the stairs into the cellar bar area. It was October 14th, 2005 when Mrs V walked down the same stairs and took the seat next to me at the table, we've been together ever since - with the 20th anniversary of that day being this year. If there was one place that we went to more often than U Slovanské lipy is was Pivovarský klub. We were such regulars that the staff knew what Mrs V would usually want to drink, Primátor English Pale Ale, and have it ready before she had her coat off. Pretty often I could just ask Klara, Karel, or Ambroz to just bring me something and it would be fantastic. It was here that I had my first rauchbier, Schlenkerla Märzen, it was here that Mrs V and I had our wedding reception in 2008, it was here most weekends were spent. It was our Cheers.
Hostomická nalévárna, Prague
If I were reasonably handy when it comes to these things, I feel like I could re-construct Hostomická nalévárna in one half of my garage, it is that small. But don't let outward appearances deceive you, while it may be small, it has everything that a proper boozer should: superb beer; efficient staff; well worn sturdy furniture; cracking Czech beer snacks. It's the kind of community boozer that is unassuming and down to earth, a place for the serious business of drinking world class lagers without the distractions of run clubs, yoga, or ill mannered parents letting their kids run wild (it is ALWAYS the parents that are the problem). Sorry Evan to sing your local's praises again...
The King's Arms, Oxford
The Westford Inn, North Uist
It seems weird to admit that I grew up in the Hebrides, including North Uist for a time, and I have never darkened the door of the Westford Inn. In my defense, I was still a Christian back then, as we say in the islands, I had the cúram, and so lived in fear of being outed as an apostate backslider because on the mainland I enjoyed a pint, or 2, or more likely 4 after a morning of studying theology and gradually realising you needed to try harder with this believing malarky. Eventually you get to a point of saying "sod it" and you give up, sorry Calvin no perseverance here. Any way, back to the Westford, next time I get home I will darken its door with abandon, and hopefully Mrs V will drink her fiddle/guitar/bodhrán/whatever freaking instrument she is learning this week, just in case there is an open session in flight at the time. Take a moment to look at their photo gallery and you'll get the appeal.
The Anderson, Fortrose
For a while after college and before moving to Prague, I lived with my brother and his wife in Fortrose, a small town on the Black Isle just north of Inverness - unrelated fact, the 11 mile walk from Fortrose into Inverness is a fantastic way to spend a morning, I jest not. While there, I worked in the local shop across from the chippy we initially lived above, and would wander into the public bar at the Anderson for a pint from time to time, oh and the occasional drop of something stronger. It was in the Anderson that I got used to the idea of putting a drop of water into my whisky, not ice, a drop of room temperature water from the ceramic jug on the bar. The Anderson was the first drinking den where I felt truly comfortable sitting at the bar rather than hiding my shy, introverted arse behind a wall or a curtain somewhere - might have had something to do with the cute barmaid, whose name I never learned, because well, shy and introverted me had struggled just to sit in full view of people. Thinking back on it, and this is some 25 years ago now, I was an awkward person, usually with my nose in a book, terrified of speaking to people, but a pint and a dram at the Anderson was probably the beginning of opening me up.
Karlsberger Pub, Svalbard
I have a thing for the North Atlantic world. When I took my family to Iceland a couple of years ago for our summer holiday, I was in my element. I love the ocean, the feel of the wind coming off the sea, the sounds of the ocean crashing against rocks, and the bare emptiness of the northern lands. Several of my friends and family on seeing pictures we posted on our socials commented on how relaxed, happy, and at home I looked. Yeah, the barren wilds of the north are a salve to my soul, and can you get more barren and wild than Svalbard? Watching the Craft Beer Channel's fantastic video about Svalbard, the Svalbard Bryggeri, and the Karlsberger Pub just made me want to visit, one day perhaps.
So there you go, a little delve into the pubs I chose and why I would love to visit them either for the first time or again.
Where would you go?
Nice to read how those Prague pubs have woven themselves into your life!
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