Out in Suits

My friends and I love pub crawls, but I think of late we have come to feel a little jaded. I’m struggling to find the enthusiasm. We surely can’t have been doing this for so long that we’ve run out of pubs.

Well, you can tell something’s gone wrong because we’ve been racking our brains trying to think of ways to bring the flame back. Bored lovers can turn to self-help books like 50 Shades of Grey and buy a butt-plug and a whip, but where is the bored pub crawler supposed to turn? Well, we have to survive on our wits, ingenuity and beer. The beer helps quite a lot. So what we’ve come up with is Birthday Wine Suit Chops. The premise? A pub crawl where we all wear suits, have sideburns and drink wine. I don’t even like wine, but that’s the lengths I was thinking about being prepared to go to in order to be able to go out and have an extended drinking session. And it proved a more popular idea than Birthday Butt-plug Chops.

I’ve been meaning to go out drinking in my suit for some time, so it’s good to be able to say that finally it has happened.

Circumstances though, weren’t ideal. It was still the middle of January, and it coincided with the week that winter finally hit the UK. That meant one or two people pulled out. It also meant that my beautifully tailored suit had to be squashed inside my winter coat for the trek between drinking venues. It held up pretty well though.

Given the potential for slipperiness, I had toyed with the idea of wearing my trainers with the suit, all Rab C Nesbitt style, because they would be grippier than my work shoes (which I don’t like wearing anyway), but when I put them on, they just looked shit. Somehow they’ve gotten all scuffed up and scruffy recently, and they’ve crossed that line from smart casual, be careful when you choose to wear them… to doesn’t matter, don’t give a shit. There’s always an event that marks this transition, like going on holiday and wearing them on the beach, or walking through a park and having to kick a muddy ball back to some lads, but this time I can’t recall what the event was. Long story short; work shoes it was, then.

Suitwise, I decided to wear the bespoke one because the other two are for work, and I didn’t want our pub crawl to feel like work. Paul even elected to wear a tie, but I wanted to look a bit scruffier than that – good still, but just a little scruffier.

We headed out then, with the intention of beginning at 4pm. I had emptied the last of my Dewar’s 12 into my hipflask, and already had a warm up beer at the house. I had a couple of warming swigs of whisky on the bus, and made it to our meeting point, the Port Street Beerhouse at around 4.10. I ordered my pint – an unadventurous pint of Veltins - and Paul arrived a few minutes later.

When Dave arrived (late as usual) we considered buying a bottle of wine to push the theme forward, but on investigation Dave found the cheapest was £17, and he didn’t think that was good value. I thought that was about average, but he just bought a glass for himself, and Paul and I continued with the pints.

Before I get on to how good it was, I’ll get the disappointing elements out of the way. First, even though Dave had formally organised the evening, he hadn’t saved any money for it, so he was pretty skint, and wouldn’t be staying out all night. Similarly, Paul was thinking he wouldn’t be up for the steak that we had had planned all along. Frankly it was bad enough that there were only three of us, but I hope this isn’t a sign of getting old, or that people don’t want to spend more than a couple of hours with me… that would be quite depressing. It’s more likely that they saw how good my suit looked, and realised they couldn’t compete. I’m surprised they stayed at all.

Nevertheless, it was good, and I did manage to get suitably smashed. We didn’t struggle nearly as much as usual with venues, calling at Gullivers as our second stop. I tried to amuse everyone by comparing the corners of those studded leather armchairs to the foofoo, perineum and bottom of a lady. No one else found it as funny as I did, but it did look like it. I should have taken a photo really, because I don’t think there’s any way you can know what I mean. I would have too, but I didn’t realise it was going to be an abiding memory at the time.

From there we pursued my idea, which was to drink in hotel bars for a change. Paul mentioned the Mercure Hotel at the back of Piccadilly Gardens, which is supposed to be one of Manchester’s best kept secrets. Hotel bars are more spacious, quieter and more relaxed than your standard Saturday evening pub experience (if a little lacking in atmosphere), so a Newcastle Brown Ale by the big window looking down on Piccadilly Gardens was bang on. Even from that height, Piccadilly Gardens remains the ugliest and probably dodgiest central square in any major European city (I would think).

A stop in one of those tiny pubs on Portland Street was next, followed by the bar at the Palace Hotel, which is very opulent – and has table service, so that was nice. It is perfectly fine of course to drink in the various hotel bars, but this is the first time I’ve done it and not been actually resident. There’s something about it that normally feels wrong. Not when you’re in a suit! For some reason a suit brings a degree of confidence and entitlement. It makes you walk more confidently, and you can actually perceive a difference in the way people treat you. It could be the confidence you’re projecting, but you can see that people are impressed. Who’s that?, they ask each other.

Dave left us after the Palace, and Paul and I thought it would be fun to go to a metal pub in our suits, so we crossed the road and went to the Salisbury, which was perfectly fine. No one batted an eyelid, though outside one guy did ask me for business advice. I took the request seriously, as a man in full possession of several pints of beer (and a snappy suit) would, but really, how was I supposed to know whether he should take on the extra work, and what was he asking me for anyway?

Paul left at this point, and I headed back to Gulliver’s to see Rob Riot and his band, Precious McKenzie. As ever, it was a pleasure to see Rob flying the flag for fun but challenging rock n’ roll. Check em out sometime. It’s not a blog about music, but they deserve a mention.

Finally it was off home for a kebab, and a bit of Match of the Day. A pretty good day and night out, if not a great pub crawl then. I think in its midst we came up with a few ideas for future excursions, but I can’t remember them now; perhaps the others can. Even if not, good ideas don’t disappear forever – if you’ve had a good idea once, it will come to you again. That’s what I’ve always found anyway.

As for the suits; well I’d definitely go out in one again. Just thinking about it now makes me miss the snug fit of the waistcoat and the feeling that I look fricking awesome… You should try it.

That’s it from me for a couple of weeks, then. On Sunday I’m flying over to Spain for a week of golf and booze, and it’s going to be awesome. You can follow me on Twitter of course – I’ll try to tweet when there’s wi-fi available – but there won’t be a new post until somewhere around 28 June. Try not to miss me too much.

Out with the old [brandy], and in with the new

Last night I said a final farewell to the litre bottle of St Remy that Mrs Cake had brought back from Paris, and a quick perusal of my previous posts shows that I barely even acknowledged its existence. Well, that’s not fair. Once I’d gotten past the incredibly sturdy cardboard box and the plug-ugly bottle, and then allowed its charms to grow on me over a few weeks, it proved to be a very enjoyable brandy. So I’d like to pay it a little tribute today.

“Rémy XO is a brandy of character with complex aromas and a robust taste. It is recognised for its elegance, smoothness and the way it lingers on the palate. Enriched by a multitude of flavours that make it irresistible to the connoisseur, St-Rémy should be savoured at leisure in an intimate setting, as an aperitif or after-dinner drink”

So says St Remy cellar master, Martine Pain and yes, I could go with that – robust taste. It’s certainly preferable to the Courvoisier VSOP that, due to its bitter aftertaste, I keep being so disparaging about. No such problems here.

luminous amber?

The website claims it’s a luminous amber colour, again showing how much variety there can be in shades of amber – and indeed, luminosity. Does this look luminous amber to you? I would say it’s dark. I don’t know; really fricking dark.

In terms of nose, it’s supposed to be “mature… followed by a… woody and vanilla aroma” then with ripe fruit, jam and honey. Once again I failed to detect any of that. On the palate: “gingerbread, candied apricots, dates, figs and nuts… subtly spicy and aromatic”. Gingerbread?

I was thinking for a while that a litre of it was going to be hard to shift (the last time Mrs Cake brought me a bottle of brandy back from holiday, it stuck around for 3 years), so I took it on my golf-related stag do to help account for a bit of it, but it came as some surprise yesterday when I could tell by the trickle emerging from the bottle that it wasn’t much longer for this world. I hate dark bottles  – I always like to e able to see how much is left.

Now that I’ve had time to properly appreciate it, I think for the time being I am going to have to award this brandy the accolade of “Best Brandy I Have Owned So Far”. No, it doesn’t have much competition, but as you will see, I intend to work on that. I’d have to say the Cardinal Mendoza is a challenger, but I was still drinking my spirits with ice when I had a bottle of that (imagine!). In fact, I had thought this was only good enough to drink with ice at first. How wrong I was.

It’s good stuff. As I say, it may not be the most enticing bottle in the Duty Free shop, but you could do a lot worse. I’m sure it didn’t cost much (Mrs Cake wouldn’t want to waste too much money on it), and it’s probably one I would never have picked for myself, but I’ll keep fond memories of the short time we spent together: Me, holding the glass up to the light and admiring it. That brandy wore its glass like lingerie. It looked good, and it tasted soft and sweet, but also a little fiery - like a beautiful lady. Mmm…

Sorry. Did I type that out loud?

 I didn’t even ask Mrs Cake to bring me any brandy (though I was going to), so it was a nice surprise when she did. And now it’s gone, I can move on to my next one.

I’ve always thought that brandy is an easy spirit to like in comparison with other spirits. Whisky, for instance, can take a bit of getting into. In my experience, people don’t even try to like vodka or tequila – they just treat them as fasttracks to getting drunk. As for gin… well, that’s just for drinking with tonic, isn’t it?

I do have a healthy appreciation for brandy already, but I’m nowhere near as experienced in it as I am in the field of whisky, so with my next purchase it was time to tread some new ground.

I don’t want to get all factual on your ass here - as ever, if you want to know factual stuff, you’re on the internet already, use it. Wikipedia is a decent place to start. No, this is a blog, not an encyclopaedia…

There are numerous countries that produce brandy, but French brandy seems to fall into three categories, Cognac and Armagnac – named after the regions that produce them - and… other. St Remy falls into the other category.

Having tried one or two brands of Cognac previously, I decided to keep an eye out for some Armagnac. If you look in the supermarket though, most types of brandy available are cognac – that’s your Courvoisier, Remy Martin, Martell etc.

Cognac is distilled twice in pot stills, and is bottled fairly young. Armagnac on the other hand, is distilled only once, in column stills, and as a result is known for being a less smooth spirit, though it tends to be aged for longer, allowing for development of the spirit and certain aromatic elements. Presumably this makes for a more complex spirit. I’ll be the judge of that!

It is produced in smaller quantities than Cognac, and tends to be made by independent producers, as opposed to the giant brands that dominate Cognac production.

Really, that information was more than enough for me. You had me at ‘less smooth spirit’. I made sure to stop by the booze aisle in the big Tesco the last time I was there, and had a look around. As I say, I saw five or six varieties of Cognac and, hidden away, underneath the shelf all the other brandies were on, and at the side, next to one of those large labels that sticks out saying “Whisky”, was a single bottle of Armagnac, £20. It didn’t look like much – in fact, it looked more like a bottle of balsamic vinegar. The label was tatty, and it said “Tesco” on it, so this was clearly the bottled for Tesco variety. I decided I didn’t really want to risk that.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that I got my next chance. This time I’d called into the Marks and Spencer supermarket in town, armed with £9 in vouchers that were the reward for using my credit card so profligately.

fancy

Well, they had an Armagnac and it came in a nice box with a picture of a very attractive teardrop shaped bottle on it. It was 20 years old and £33. Most importantly, it looked interesting enough to part with my cash for – and at 20 years old, that meant that I would be beating my oldest spirit record by 2 years within a couple of weeks of setting it. I had to go for it really – particularly since I found another voucher offering £3 off purchases of food and wine. I asked if brandy counted as wine, and the cashier said it did.

I’ve been wondering since the last time I had a look at the booze in Marks and Spencer, whether their own brands are any good. Every supermarket has its own brands, but you’d generally expect them to be pretty poor. Marks and Spencer have a bit of a reputation for quality though, and when I saw they have their own brand of Islay scotch for around the price of an actual bottle of Laphroaig, it made me wonder. In this instance though, £33 seems far too cheap for a 20 year old spirit in a fancy bottle…

What a bottle though! Look at that! I love that solid glass bit at the bottom. I let it sit on the coffee table for a few hours, just so I could keep looking at it. It reminds me of the body of a beautiful electric guitar, curvy and solid.

Now, a couple of weeks have passed since I wrote the St Remy tribute, and followed it up with the story of how I came into possession of my 20 year old Armagnac, so I’ve easily had plenty  much chance to ease that oversized cork out and splash it out into a glass. It certainly made Christmas with the family easier to handle! Just being a bit flippant there. I did take it with me, and enjoy it on a few consecutive nights, playing Trivial Pursuit and watching Preppers UK on the unbelievably annoying SKY box.

Do you know? I know what they mean by ‘rougher spirit’ too. It really is, but it’s no less enjoyable for it. It has an unusual mouthfeel, but also a complex taste. I can’t make a direct comparison with any particular brand of Cognac, since I passed the last of the Courvoisier onto someone else some time ago, but I can be fairly certain that I’m enjoying this one much more. It isn’t as sweet for a start, nor is its aftertaste bitter. In addition you get a nice burn, which I think is an essential part of any spirit drinking experience – though I’m sure real aficionados will disagree with that.

There’s still just about more than half a bottle to go, so it’s a good sign that I like this one so much already. Long may it continue. I read on Wikipedia that once opened, Armagnac stays drinkable for years – unlike scotch that is supposed to oxidise after just 3 months – so I don’t need to hurry on this one, which is a good thing because I’ve opened a few bottles of special whisky recently, and I need to start polishing them off.

It could be a while before I actually take a risk on M&S own brand scotch, but at least I’ve been able to find out what their Armagnac is like, and maybe that will be a suitable barometer. It makes me wonder though, what’s the Tesco Armagnac like? I suppose I’m going to have to get that one now as well.

It’s just occurred to me that perhaps I should offer some comparison with the St Remy that opened this article. Well the reason I hadn’t before is that I don’t really consider them all that comparable. It’s almost as if they are a completely different spirit. Brandy comes in many guises – the Armagnac being a kind of amber colour, while the St Remy was more of a dark ruby, and in terms of flavour… sure, they’re both unmistakably brandy, but they belong to different genres. I’d like to be able to break it down to constituent flavours for you, but I’ve still got a lot to learn in that regard, and I’ve got nothing for you at the moment. Which is best? It’s all a matter of taste, isn’t it? The St Remy, I’m sure, is better value for money, but the Armagnac comes in that impressive bottle, and that’s got to count for something (a lot). I’m going to have to hold off on the matter of flavour. There’s still half a bottle of Armagnac to go, and I’m not going to make the same mistake I always do where I judge something too soon. I’m just going to enjoy it.

Now, as I write this we’re just approaching the weekend once more, and once again it has the potential for being a good one. What have we got going on? Well, I’ll tell you. First, you should know that Drink it How You Like it has joined the 21st century, and now has its own Twitter account; @alcothusiast, so you can follow me, and keep up to date with what’s going on there. I’m not really sure what the point of it is yet, or how I’m going to use it, but I understand lots of people are using it to their advantage. I’ll probably just use it to let you know what I’m up to, and maybe throw some random thoughts out there, see what comes back.

I can’t say I was particularly bothered about joining all the younger generation and the celebrities in this whole Twitter debacle, but The Manchester Whisky Club that I blogged about last week was holding its first Twitter tasting event last night, so I figured I’d join up for that. You can read more about it on Twitter (#mcrwc), or in a future Drink it How You Like it post (presumably).

What else is going on this weekend? Well, I’ll be meeting up with some friends for my latest pub crawl, which has been christened birthdaywinesuitchops - presumably because it’s someone’s birthday, but also because last time we were out we thought it would be fun to do a pub crawl where we all drink wine instead of beer, and wear suits. The ‘chops’ part relates to the fact that one of the group has finally given in, and decided to grow some sidies. I’m not sure whether I’ll stick to the part that says we have to drink wine, but we’ll see what the mood is like on the day.

This pub crawl thing is getting pretty desperate now. We need a new town or something. When you have to start drinking wine and wearing suits just to make it interesting, something’s wrong! It would definitely be better if it were summer.

Finally, there’s just one more thing I want to promote. My friend Rob Riot’s band, PreciousMcKenzie has a free gig at Gulliver’s on Oldham Street (Mcr) tomorrow, so I’m considering popping in for some of that. Perhaps I’ll see you there.

Have a good weekend then, and I’ll see you on Twitter and back here next week for another post. Nice.

732 Words on Tequila, and then a few more

I’ve been amazed at the things I’ve learned (and found interesting) since applying myself to writing a blog about booze and, more importantly, taking an active interest in experimenting and investigating the delights it can bring. The most recent thing I have become interested in is tequila. I know, I’ve written posts on tequila before here, here and even here, but it has come to my notice that frankly, I have barely even scratched the surface because tequila is surprisingly underappreciated here in the UK.

this tequila wears a sombrero

It started innocuously enough; I thought that since I’d offloaded the last dregs of my Jose Cuervo Gold recently, I could see my way to getting a new bottle. The only brands you ever see in supermarkets are Jose Cuervo and Sierra, so I took a look at The Whisky Exchange, and found that there is actually a whole smorgasbord of different brands available – many for under £20 (plus P&P).

It was time to start working my way through. I had learned some time in the past that tequila is made by fermenting sugars found in the blue agave plant that grows above a certain altitude in Mexico (1500m), and then distilling the resulting wort twice (and sometimes a third time).

Ok, that’s not that interesting. In fact, a ten years younger me would have said, “boor-ring!”, like I did at that party 10 years ago when someone started telling me that whisky gets its colour from the barrels it is aged in. Actually, I didn’t say that out loud, I just found it really boring. No, what’s interesting to me is that cheaper tequilas like your standard Jose Cuervos only use 51% agave, and the rest of their spirit is distilled from cheaper things like molasses. I decided that it would be interesting to see what the real thing tasted like, so this time I would be more discerning, and get something that was 100% agave. To make choosing easier, I’d get the cheapest thing I could find that was 100% agave. All I needed was an excuse to get to a proper booze shop.

And that chance came one Saturday when frankly, I wasn’t feeling on top of the world, and the wife and I had a few jobs to do. I needed some cheering up, and decided we’d call off at Carrington’s in Didsbury on our way to one of our errands in Stretford.

Unfortunately, Carrington’s is more of a wine shop really, but they are still better stocked with spirits than any of your supermarkets. It’s a shame though, that they keep them all out of reach, behind the counter. I approached, and making plain my requirements found they had three bottles that fit the bill. I’d allocated myself a budget of £30 on this occasion, so that eliminated the first one that came in at £38, leaving two at around £25. One was 10p cheaper than the other, but that one was also 2% lighter in alcohol at 38%, so I went for the slightly dearer one until… I noticed that one was only 50cl against the cheaper one’s 70cl. I could have stood there all day, wondering what to do, so I reverted back to my original plan. The extra 20cl made the cheaper tequila significantly cheaper, so that would be my winner. And the winner was… el Jimador – named after the people who cultivate, select and pick the blue agave plants it is made with. To be fair, the other bottle was far more attractive but rules is rules.

£25 is a bit more than I’d been expecting to pay, given the prices at The Whisky Exchange but remember, you have to add £5.49 P&P to the £19.95 that they charge for this particular brand, so it only cost me a matter of pence more.

It was to be a while before I would crack it open as, being a little under the weather, I knew I wouldn’t be able to taste it - I’d been using the preceding evenings to lighten the load of my slightly less premium spirits. Still, the next weekend would be something to look forward to, since I decided I’d crack it open at the poker night that accompanied this year’s end of year golf tournament.

And you can read about that next week.

Before that, it’s the weekend. Tonight I’ll be staying in with the missus, having a drink and watching telly like we do every night, but this time we’re calling it a date, so that makes it special. We’re just excited for the weekend, so that’s fine. Tomorrow on the other hand, is the latest in the long line of pub crawls that could almost make the basis of a flimsy bestselling novel, or a romantic comedy starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Matthew McConaughey, if pub crawls were romantic. They aren’t; they're about a group of lads getting drunk and talking shit, so if you only see one movie this year, it isn’t going to be that one.  Why do so many movie trailers start with, “This year…”?

This year… Paul has planned a route along the canal that runs through Manchester, so that should be fun.

Whatever you’re up to, have a good one.

Pub Crawl Fallout

Last week I hit you with a post about the art of pub crawling in advance of my first planned pub crawl since Drink it How You Like it began. I realised over the weekend though, that there was something important I forgot to include in my basic guidelines – something that I actually fell foul of this weekend, and that luckily didn’t result in disaster; don’t drink too much on the night before your planned pub crawl.

This is a very easy mistake to make, since excitement can be running quite high as the weekend approaches. As I told you, I had planned to tackle the famous Didsbury Dozen on Saturday, and had selected an experienced and hardy crew. However, being that my fiancée Brenda, would be out of town from Friday it seemed necessary to go out for some drinks on Friday, too. So that led to a mini pub crawl of Manchester’s Oxford Road area. Being all excited, I drank far too much, and didn’t bother having any food, so it all resulted in a fairly severe hangover on Saturday morning. By the time my first group of friends arrived at 11.30 I wasn’t feeling much better and still looked like I’d just woken up, though I’d actually been up since 7 feeling that the house was too hot.

Now some people (future alcoholics) will say, ‘hair of the dog!’ because that’s supposed to work, and I did consider having a can of beer at 9am, but it’s a fine line. Yes, a fine line. So I’m here to tell you: you can’t rely on hair of the dog – it’s still a lottery. Your second drinking session might be a success, or it might turn out that you peaked a day too early, the beers aren’t going to go down nicely that day at all, and you’re going to be tired and grumpy and might carry a headache with you the whole way.

Luckily for me, this weekend the gods of beer were on my side. A couple of cans at my friend Chris’ house for the early afternoon match soon led to three pints of Directors and lunch at The Didsbury, and we were off. We didn’t visit 12 pubs, but given that we did visit 8, had 3 pints in the first one, and 2 cans beforehand, it transpired that we drank enough to have visited 12 pubs.

And we had two meals! This is an unprecedented development in pub crawling for me. I’m notorious for not wanting to eat once I’ve started drinking, but it is essential for prolonging the duration of your crawl. It is useful to have pubs on your route that do decent food so you can take care of the food requirement without taking a break from the drinking. It’s also great if it means you can get the beers brought to you for a couple of rounds instead of having to go to the bar.

The Didsbury is an ideal starting point if you’re intending on trying a dozen Didsbury pubs one day. It’s situated between Didsbury Village and Parrs Wood, so it’s pretty much the first pub in Didsbury (coming from the Stockport side). It has a decent reputation for food, and tends to be very popular on Sunday lunchtimes, but then so are most gastro-pubs in this country. I have to say, the rump steak I had was all right, but given the pub’s reputation, I expected something a bit better. Nevertheless, beer was first class - the Directors was going down very well, and I’m not a food blogger anyway.

I don’t remember the names of all the pubs we visited, but we kept the venues fairly old skool, so it was traditional [read: old man pubs] all the way really. Fletcher Moss was probably the best stocked bar in terms of spirits but generally we didn’t have too much trouble making our various selections. 

I think I took the award for most expensive round with £27.20 when some of us decided to have Sailor Jerrys and some Courvoisiers. I think Gav had the cheapest round - £11, when he stole the round I was in the process of buying at The Didsbury.

Along the way I unveiled The Devils Breath which you can read about in an earlier post, and it proved very popular. Then we almost started a food fight in the Four in Hand before good sense reasserted itself and we finally strayed over the border into Withington with a pub who’s name I can’t remember, but it had a proper tiled floor, and seemed to have been lifted directly from a mining town in the 50s. Nearly everyone was really impressed with that one. Paul declared, “This is brilliant!” (see how I’ve italicised the word ‘brilliant’ there, but left the exclamation mark un-italicised? That’s exactly how he said it).

So I can categorically declare: a good time was had by all. They were probably the two best pub crawls I’ve participated in for a long time, so it was a bonus that they came on consecutive days.

I’m afraid I don’t have any booze porn for you this week, but here’s a picture I found on my camera from the pub crawl on Friday night. I can only assume that’s me silhouetted in there. I probably won’t be able to post again until next week, so until then have fun, and enjoy yer booze.

The Art of the Pub Crawl

Since I learned to drink, I have favoured the pub crawl. Sitting in a bar all night just doesn’t do it for me. I always have to be on the move. Constantly moving maintains the momentum of a drinking session. It is constantly bringing you into contact with new sights, experiences and drinks.

Sometimes you might find yourself drinking with people who would rather stay where they are – because they have a seat – than go out and experience something else. You can always find another seat – maybe not in the next place, but you won’t be there long, so maybe the one after that. If it’s a seat you’re after, you may as well stay at home.

And anyway, it’s a fact: a pub crawl is more fun than sitting in a pub. And it’s more than just drinking. As I am about to show you… it is an art.

It’s not an art; it’s a science. Actually, it’s not a science either, but there are some useful things to know (not rules) for making a good pub crawl. Before I get into those (things, not rules), you should know there are two types of pub crawl. The first (and best) is the Impromptu Piss-up. In this scenario you take whoever you are with, wherever you are, and careen blithely from one pub to another, not a care in the world. You might even call more friends and invite them to join you. And they might. This is truly a beautiful experience, and sadly a rare one. It feels extra special because it’s like you’ve stolen it – this wasn’t supposed to be happening! But it is! Let’s ride this crazy train for as long as it lasts! The Impromptu Piss-up, as its name suggests, requires absolutely no planning.

The other kind of pub crawl does need planning, and also a little bit of technical experience. These are the things you need to know. First you need to invite some dedicated drinkers, people who aren’t afraid to step up to the plate and stay there. People who are ready. You need to make sure they know this is a pub crawl.

Second you need a focus. This can be a theme if you like, but it doesn’t involve dressing up (though you can do that, if you want). More specifically, it should be an area that you intend to drink in, a starting point and an end point with pubs in between that you will drink in, or a selection of pubs with something in common. This could be something as inane as pubs with beer gardens, rock pubs, pubs with an animal in the name, rough pubs – use your imagination. Make sure you have this in your mind before you start, or you may spend too much time not going anywhere, just trying to think of somewhere to go next. Try to visit at least a few pubs that you haven’t been to before.

Third; start early. Any time before 6pm is fine, but earlier is better (noon for the hardcore). There is no feeling to equal the glow you get after a few early afternoon pints when the world’s shining bright and you still have a long way to go.

The final guideline is keep everyone together, but keep moving. The larger the group, the harder it is to synchronise people’s drinking. This is fine, but you need to make sure that people are ready to leave at the same time. This means communication. Make sure people know when you are approaching time to move on. Make sure they know that they need to have finished their drinks by this time. If you’re a fast drinker, and they’re a long way behind, it is acceptable for you to get another drink, but you need to make sure that they don’t – otherwise the cycle will repeat and you’ll never move on. If you do get a second drink, you need to make sure you finish it when everyone else finishes their first. And away you go.

Repeat that last one until it’s time to go home… or for a curry.

That’s it really. It requires a bit of discipline and a strong leader. It helps if you’ve developed a pub crawl team – a crack core of veterans that you’ve done this with before. You should make that your mission.

I got my pub crawl stripes in the Quayside area of Newcastle on Saturday afternoons in the late 90s. A group of us would meet at the Haymarket at noon, walk down to the Head of Steam and begin. Stops along the way included The Bridge Hotel (where I swore I had the best ever pint of John Smith’s), The Cooperage, The Red House, Bonded Warehouse (or Bondage Whorehouse, as we called it) and any others we fancied along the way. Just before 8pm we’d call into Flynn’s to get some cocktails and vodka jellies before happy hour finished, and then we’d be very drunk. 

I don’t remember too much of what would happen after that; we might go up into other parts of town for more drinks, or go to a club, or the Student’s Union, or a party. We had stamina in those days, and we were young enough to laugh in the face of hangovers; we rarely got them. 

I know I won’t see days like those anymore, but I try now to have a pub crawl once a month, just to recapture that glow, to feel young and carefree again.

This weekend sees the first pub crawl since Drink it How You Like it began, and having struggled with crawler’s block (that can happen after you’ve survived a large number of pub crawls in a town) my friends and I have decided to keep it simple; we’ll be doing the famous “Didsbury Dozen” – but in our own way. We may visit 12 pubs or we may not, but it will most likely finish with a curry. If I have anything interesting to say about it, I’ll fill you in next week. Until then, have a great weekend.