UNDERNEATH THE ARCHES

During the summer I mentioned that I may have found the perfect pub, The Endeavour in Whitby. ( Read about it here ) the most perfect pub in UK ?

Well I think I may have found another one. Once upon a time, I worked for over 10 years in the Royal Mail offices behind Newcastle Central Station. The nearest pub was The Telegraph, which was usually full of smoking posties and keg beer, so any Friday lunchtime sessions we had  meant a walk into the city centre. 

Now that I'm no longer there and all the staff have gone, in May earlier this year news came of a new micropub opening , under the railway arches, just along from the old office. Called the Split Chimp and named after the wedge that is put under a cask of ale to tip it ( although why that would be called a split chimp Ive no idea).  

Anyhow, I called in for the first time recently and was really impressed. The place is small but comfortable. There are padded stools next to the window, with benches in the middle of the floor either side of 3 wooden barrels that act as tables. There are a few seats outside.

The pub has three handpulls and a keg font on the short bar. In front and under the bar is an extensive bottled beer fridge. The actual casks are behind the bar cloaked in cooling jackets . All handpulls were local ales.  I ordered a Tyne Bank Cherry Stout, and the beer temperature was spot on. Mind you, and this isn't the pubs fault, I couldn't smell or taste the cheery, but as a stout it was fine. 

When I ordered my pint I was actually asked if I was a CAMRA member and offered 10% discount. This is the first time I have ever been asked directly as most pubs who do offer this have to be asked first.

One feature I particularly like is the large chalk board occupying the part of one wall. It is covered in details of all the beers, bottled beers and wine. Importantly, all prices are shown in clear view, not hidden way stuck on a wall in tiny print. The next beers to be on are also indicated. The board is actually the door of a cupboard, which is the stock room for bottled beers. Next to this store is the single unisex loo, with a wonderful sign for the men to read.

There is an upstairs area , which I didnt investigate and outside is a well lit sign showing opening times. (I would check their Facebook page for these.)
   

During this experience, there was the occasional rumble overhead of trains passing over, which must be louder upstairs . This reminded me of another pub, the Knott Bar, under Deansgate Station in Manchester.

There is no TV, loud music or evidence of the dreaded lager ;  its just a place for conversation, which is fine by me. Good beer, clear pricing, CAMRA discount, whats not to like ? This is Newcastle first micropub and a welcome addition to the city pub scene. As Arnie once said "I'll be back".

THE PERILS OF OVER INDULGENCE - GETTING LOST IN MUNICH.

In 2002 my boss said "Do you want to go on an all expenses trip to the famous Oktoberfest in Munich?"  Stupid question. This was all to be paid for by a German company,  that starts and ends with an S, so the answer was "yes please".

Since 1810, the worlds oldest beer festival has been held on a large open space in Munich called Theresienweise. This annual jamboree lasts for 16 days and in 2002 was from 21st September to 6th October.
  
I don't recall the actual date we were there but it all started as an overnight stay in a hotel near Heathrow (I was on the cokes!). The next morning saw us on a Lufthansa flight bound for Germany. Stepping out of Munich Airport into the fresh Bavarian air, we were soon transported to our hotel in the city centre. 

We made our way to the festival, which was a half hour walk, later that  afternoon. It was set out as a large showground, with some huge marquees as beer tents. Inside were long tables and benches and a stage. Soon the drinks flowed freely, too freely as it turned out. Drinking many beers and joining in rousing choruses with an Oompah band made for a raucous night. I was amazed that some of the frauleins who served us could carry 12 ( TWELVE) heavy glasses of beer.


I have absolutely no idea how much I had to drink, or indeed how strong the beer was, but needless to say we all had a good time.

At the conclusion of proceedings I made the fatal decision to pause on the way out to purchase some souvenirs, namely a T shirt and two steins (one being for a missing colleague). Thankfully, passing on the lederhosen ! As a result I became separated from the rest of my party. So retracing my steps out of the Oktoberfest showground, I headed back to the hotel, but got lost and ended up outside Munich Railway Station.

Now I have since forgotten  the name of the hotel, but how was I to know there were two in the city with the same name?

I hailed a taxi, babbling the hotel name. Now after 10 minutes even I could figure out we were heading in the wrong direction. Burbling something to this effect, the driver slammed on the brakes and did a quick u-turn. Now during this manoeuvre the meter was flying round. In my befuddled state I realised I would not have enough money  to pay the fare, having stupidly invested half my euros in souvenirs.

At the right hotel at last , I counted out my fare  in vain. Now I tried to study German for 2 years at school but as I was by this time incapable of speech in English, I can only imagine what came out my mouth was total gibberish. Handing  over all my money, I then  tried to explain to the stony faced taxi driver  I was going to retrieve some more cash.

I vaguely recall getting out of the hotel lift on the wrong floor and trying to get into the wrong room. Finding the right floor and room eventually, I retrieved some Euros  and made my way back to the lifts and down to reception, to find the driver had driven off! I then noticed my colleagues had arrived ahead of me and  were watching this performance from the hotel lounge. Schweinhunds!

Next day everyone was suffering from a collective hangover.  Hardly anyone spoke, either during breakfast, on the coach to the airport, in the airport, on the plane or on the tube back into central London. It must have been one of the longest hangover recoveries in history.

PS For any fashion enthusiasts, despite it being 13 years old, I occasionally wear the T shirt, ( but have never drunk out of the stein)