The Scandal of Civilised Drinking

Phil had arranged a booking for a local restaurant for 1.00, so we were up and about relatively early. My medicinal puke was all to the good as I felt only marginally ropey and fully able to drink a mint tea. A call from Ian brought me to the Hof-Brau tent and from then on it was all out annihilation.

It should be said that in a beertent people you meet are actually lifelong friends you have met in previous lives, so much so in fact that they convert the sceptical to reincarnation, something in which only the drunk could believe (sorry to the reincarnationists, just my personal opinion). Certainly you make friends. I will not mention names, but the stories of these people enthralled me, in spite of the drink rather than because of it. One girl, an American political science student, studying in Barcelona and with a full life hidden behind her mere twenty years, seemed a particularly good candidate for future American presidency. Another 20 year old American, a single father from Alaska with a one year old daughter, told me of his wish to join Uncle Sam's army to ensure free healthcare for his daughter and to die protecting his friends. Not a healthy situation or wish if you ask me, and I think Uncle Sam should start reconsidering his military policy when he is inculcating such a pessimistic world view in his citizens. A state's main aim should be the happiness of its people, not a large army, which, to my mind, is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Many, many mases were had as were Weisbiers, Jaegers and other assorted pollutants. By the time I took my leave it was 2 in the morning. However, without call credit, money or key, I was doomed to spend two hours on Phil's doorstep until the Palmertown crew got back.

A quiet afternoon

The Hof-Brau Tent


Ian goes for a spin


Told you


Our International friends


Niall puts his finger on it