Ken is traveling with us from Budapest to Antwerp. He is an integral part of our Beer Tour 2006 and a great friend. Ken has a background in media, so his writings should be a little more polished than mine.
Sept. 17 – from the sick bay, room 403, Hotel Ibis, Bamberg , Germany –
A Grade AA head cold has put me on the sidelines today. But better to sip tea and attempt to restore myself in Bamberg today, in order to go “en masse” to the beer tents and revel in Munich tomorrow.
(The “en masse” reference was an attempt at wordplay … but since Eric's computer doesn't have a German character keyboard, I expect the pun may get lost in translation.)
That said, en masse is the key, for in Munich our beer troupe grows to seven. So, since I'm missing some sights today in order to recuperate, allow me to tell you about we Fantastic Four Trub-adors who have journeyed across three countries together in the past 10 days
Let's begin with Eric the Emphatic. He is a man who knows what he likes (the paprika in Budapest ; the hotel room in Plzen ; the weissbier here in Bamberg ) and what he wants (pretzels that double as loaves of bread). Actually he covets the pretzels. He's hell-bent on finding the bent doughy delicacies even before we hit Oktoberfest. And when he does his baby blues will sparkle in exuberance!
In fact, to know Eric, one must know his eyes. They may not tell all, but they tell a lot. From wide-eyed delight to arched-eyebrow skepticism, when it comes to Eric, the eyes have it.
Then there's Val the Voracious, Queen of Bring It On! Who needs espresso? Life itself is a stimulant for Val. A ready smile, a knowing wink, and an infectious zest for adventure are all she needs to take on whatever comes her way.
‘Tis a lovely place in the world that Val inhabits. In fact, “lovely” is one of this woman of words favorites. She says it not so much as one would use “pretty,” but more as Teddy Roosevelt used “Bully!” Hmmmmmmmmmm… that paints quite the mind picture, doesn't it: Val and T.R.?
(I think my sinus medicine is beginning to kick in, so you're going to have to work with me on this.)
Can't you just see them, nose-to-nose, words and gestures flying, winking and smiling? Sharing travel stories perhaps. And at the end, a squeeze of the hand or maybe a playful hug to put the exclamation point on their lovely, bully chat.
This brings us to Dave the Didactic: aeronautical engineer, 80-gallon homebrewer, history buff, travel nut, intrepid planner and prolific chronicler.
Dave's got a propensity to … how shall I put this? … share what he knows. Frequently and in detail. Imparting knowledge pleases him (and, at times, those within earshot.)
Dave's a Renaissance man if ever there was one. Though knowing his architectural preferences, he'd probably rather be known as a Baroque man. I can picture him in a pleated waistcoat and powdered wig advising the Archduke on the matters of the day … and on the operation of the royal brewery!
And then there's me. We'll have to forego an alliterative nickname in my case because Ken the Amnesiac fits so damn well.
The four words that bring the quickest giggles to my fellow travelers and the quickest squirms from yours truly are, “Ken, do you remember?”
Let's face it: for me, the saying goes, “Been there, done that … if you say so.”
When Dave asks me if I recall a specific section of the brewery at Pilsner Urquell from a previous tri p, it's all I can do to recount the number of times I've been to the country in which it's brewed. (And I'm still not sure whether this was my third or fourth visit to the Czech Republic !)
When Val turns to me and says, “You know our friend [insert one of many names here],” I nod my head gamely, though I'm sure the “Bambi-in-the-high-beams” look in my eyes betrays me.
So, how to account for this homebrewer's lack of head retention? Is it that I don't pay attention?
(Uh, what was that question again?)
Is there too much already crammed between my ears?
(Yes, if congested sinuses count.)
Or, god forbid, have I simply marinated a few too million brain cells for too many years in too much beer?
Well, it's easiest to address that last diagnosis first. Since this cold's got me feeling like a bar rag at the end of a double shift anyway, today I am laying low and swearing off beer.
Until dinner, for sure. Well, let's say ‘til 4pm. Hmmmmmmmm, that bottle of Chodovar over on the window sill looks pretty inviting.
Excuse me, what is it I said I'd give up?