The CAMRA Real Ale Festival 2005 - London Olympia

(Jolly boys reunited)

My love affair with beer started in my late teens, and apart from a few painful moments ( physically, the morning after, or mentally when you remember what you did last night) the love affair has been a strong and constant one.

In fact, it has probably been the most constant thing in my life. It had always been their with me during the happy times, the parties celebrations, and the cool kick back moments. However, unlike any fair weather friends, beer has been with me through the breakups, knocks, downers and Eurovision.

I have been lucky. I have had a mentor to guide me through this path to manhood. Notably my good family friend Doug. Doug is an expert on beer. He knows how it's brewed, what to look for and how to sample and more importantly how to enjoy. He turns drinking beer into an art-form and a science. Therefore, getting sloshed with Doug means I'm furthering education and therefore is perfectly justified.

Imagine then dear reader, my excitement when the "Jolly Boys" (a bunch of lovable drunken reprobates whom I grew up with) invited me to the worlds largest real ale festival. We decided to go on the Friday, just in case we needed a full weekend to recover (I love the boys foresight). Three of the lads took half days, and as two work in the city we met them up there. I decided to make a day of it, so I took the whole day off and treat myself to a lie in and a sturdy breakfast. The last "Jolly" who will remain nameless due to legal reasons went AWOL from his post in the British Transport Police (good to know our transport system is in good hands after the recent bombings).

After some inconsiderate sod decided to throw himself under the train at Liverpool Street Station, we rendez vouz'd at the entrance of the festival.

(The scene that greeted us at Olympia)

As we walked in we bought our pint glass and stood in awe at the sight that greeted us. London's Olympia, packed to the rafters with 450 different ales, and gourmet cuisine of every kind to satisfy the thirsty drinker.

(Me tucking into the gourmet cuisine avec beer)

We went around drinking halves from different varied stalls. Some award winning, some with just a small que. We gaily walked around soaking in the atmosphere, talking to very friendly complete strangers. I was surprised to see so many people hanging around the "Lancaster Bomber" stand, until we realised that they sponsor Andrew "Freddie" Flintoff, who was at the time, hammering the Australians in the Ashes Cricket series. They had a small TV screen around which 100 people must of stood waiting for the next Aussie to fall prey to the English attack. Cheers rang high when a wicket fell. There was a terrific atmosphere. Thoroughly British if such a thing still exists?

(Stealing from the war veterans)

There was one particularly disturbing aspect of the day highlighted in the above photo. Lots of games were scattered around the arena to play for crap prizes but for extremely good causes. Besides when you have had a few, one enjoys a challenge. The stall you can see is for the Poppy Appeal for our war Veterans, a most worthy cause. Chelsea pensioners would stand by the Bog and look after your pint glass for a small fee while you went and answered your call of nature. Great stuff! As you can see above the object of this game is to pass the hoop along the wire without touching. The course was a particularly fiendish one, however the attractive young (I thing Australian.. Huh, just because England is winning in the cricket doesn't mean that you should take it out on our war hero's) lady in the photo, was taking such precautions with her attempt. I stood and watched for about 5mins as he slowly completed the course. Look closely at the woman running the stall. Her look suggests that she is saying "what the hell are you trying to do to these people? Take the food of their plates!".

(Darrrvid... who loves ya baby!)

I don't want any naming or shaming, from the doubtless hundreds of thousands of devoted readers. Someone is bound to recognise her. The appropriate thing to have done, would be have got right to the very end and then slip, affecting a 'silly billy me' expression. Everybody knows you could have done it, so quit there and save everyone's blushes. Please give generously www.poppy.org.uk

(Drinking in perfect harmony)

Just for the record, 'Nelsons Revenge' and 'Your granny wouldn't like it' are Bully's top tip(ple).

(I love you Bully. Jon falling at the 403rd hurdle)

At about half past seven in the evening the nameless PC, fortified with strong Bavarian dark beer, decided he needed to put all his new found pissedness to good use. So I was forced to leave this BEER FESTIVAL to go to a WALKABOUT PUB on the Embankment. I ask you...Where's the logic!!!

(United we stand....otherwise we'd fall over)

PC pulled amazingly, and I went home with a nice warm beer coat on perfectly happy to stare at the crap advertisements on the tube for the next 45 minutes, safe in the knowledge that it was a great day.

(The end of a beautiful day. At Walkabout in Embankment)