travel

It had been a while since my last half-marathon, the Great Limerick Run in 2022, so I set a goal this year of signing up for a ‘big’ half and actually training properly. This was largely inspired by how incredibly painful I found the last bit of the race in Limerick, although it remains my PB for the distance. As I’d never been to Newcastle, but had heard that the Great North Run was well worth doing, I duly put my name in the ballot and ended up getting in – so, I was committed to some proper structured training.

I had a ‘good’ Frank Duffy 10 Miler here in the Phoenix Park a few weeks ago, both in terms of time and not feeling horrendous after (I found it very rough going in 2002), so I flew to Newcastle very much looking forward to the big run. I was also keen to explore some museums and, of course, pubs, and got some excellent recommendations from both BlueSky and Threads. Beer Twitter may be dead, but it has been reborn in multiple places, so while it takes a bit more doing than it did before to find everyone, we’re getting there again.

I was immediately impressed by Newcastle’s airport, which we’ll return to later, and by their TRAM NETWORK. It was simple and affordable to get into town from said airport via the Metro, and hopefully, some day, we can have something similar here in Dublin, like essentially every other sizable city with an airport…but I digress. After a post-arrival brunch, I made my way to the much-recommended Free Trade Inn for a few cask halves, and was thoroughly impressed by the spot. There were lovely people (hello, Tom!), a great variety of cask and keg local beer choices and a relaxed atmosphere; just my kind of pub. I then stopped in at nearby Full Circle Brewing, in what might best be described as the light-industrial-cool-brewery part of town, and had another warm welcome and some very pleasant tasters.

After visiting the Lit & Phil (a recommendation from Fabulous Folklore with Icy Sedgwick, though let’s be real, I am always visiting libraries) and doing some book shopping – really, the only thing I need to mark Newcastle down for is the small number of bookshops, though the selections at the Waterstones and Blackwells were both excellent – and dinner, I did another short pub crawl, stopping in at The Mean-eyed Cat and The Town Mouse. Once again, both spots had an interesting selection of cask and keg, but given my cask nerdery (and running plans), I stayed with the lower-key cask halves; well, I did have one pint at the end of the evening, which for me was at around 6 pm, as I was back in my hotel watching Murder, She Wrote by 6.30 pm. ROCK AND ROLL!

I kicked off my Saturday with a Parkrun at Leazes Park, where you could just make out St James’s Park in the fog, and then spent the rest of the day collecting my race number (they don’t post them if you live outside the UK), having tea, then wandering around museums, breweries and pubs. The Great North Museum: Hancock was well worth a visit, especially since I didn’t have time to head out to some of the bigger Roman sites in the area, and I stopped in at Wylam’s impressive Palace of Arts location for a swift half, too. I then prioritized pizza and getting to Donzoko Brewing’s new taproom, and am glad I did so. It’s a fantastic space, and the lagers were uniformly excellent. I managed to get my first, and, so far, only festbier of the year, and thoroughly enjoyed everything. After a bit more sightseeing and dinner (another, not-as-good pizza and the only bad cask beer I ended up abandoning, at a crowded pub that shall remain nameless), I had a last half of cask bitter, this time from Brew York, at Beer Street, a bottle shop and micropub housed in a railway arch. While pizza and The Right Amount of Beer the night before a race always serves me well, it was important to be mindful of the ‘right amount,’ and so, it was once again an early night.

Race day arrived, and while the weather had been really quite good for the north of England in September up until this point, the rain only held off until just before my wave was underway. By the time we reached the Tyne Bridge, the rain was heavy, as were my sodden shoes. But the support from what seemed to be the whole of Newcastle was outstanding; there was no point in the race, even though much of it is along rather featureless motorways, that lacked a cheering crowd, even in the heaviest downpours. By the time I got to the 19th or 20th kilometre, it had let up a bit, but it was still hard to see the sea by the time we reached it – I’m sure it was there!

Once I crossed the finish line in South Shields (still under 2 hours, despite the 60,000 strong field of runners and intensely wet, heavy going at times), it was a very straightforward exercise to get my medal, t-shirt and goody bag (with a very welcome foil blanket). Although there was a well-organised series of booths and activities after the finish line, I made a beeline to the buses back into Newcastle. Once again, this seemed well-planned and well-executed; I was back in my hotel room and finally able to stretch and warm up in a very long shower within the hour.

After a rest (and a lot of herbal tea from Bird & Blend), I devoured a burger from Meat:stack and went out (obviously, wearing my medal) for my celebratory pints. I started at The Wobbly Duck and once again found a great selection of cask and keg offerings, as well as wonderful staff and clientele – a properly great little pub I would absolutely visit again.

Finally, I flew home to Dublin on the Monday morning, and I have to sing the praises of the Newcastle airport – it is easily the nicest airport I have ever been to. I’ve already mentioned the ease of getting to and from the airport via the Metro, but security is a breeze (you get to leave everything in your bag), the staff are actually friendly and I had the best food I’ve ever had in an airport. Not only was it on par with brunches I’ve gone out for on purpose, but there was good tea and a nice selection of local beer (including Wylam and Full Circle), though I gave that a miss at that hour of the morning.

All told, I’m glad I’ve got a Great North Run in the books, and I’m happy to report there’s a very interesting beer scene in Newcastle; I think on a future visit I’d aim to include a side trip to Durham and to hit up more archaeological sites, but in any event, the universal friendliness and fantastic airport make a return visit tempting.

But I’m also open to hearing opinions on what half-marathon to aim for next year – bonus points for a flat course, great local bookshops, interesting beer and museums aplenty. Share your ideas!

It’s been a minute, and while we have no new Weirdo Dublin Pub this week, thanks to an epic period of work/kid/theatre/music travel that isn’t quite done yet, I did get to indulge in one of my favourite things a lot last week – cask ale! Just, well, not in Dublin.

The first bit of cask enjoyment was not unexpected: I was on one of my regular work trips to the office in London, and finally managed to squeeze in some evening theatre with Sondheim’s Old Friends* and a Mandy Patinkin** concert, so stopping off at The Harp in Covent Garden was a no-brainer, even it was for just a brief pint. But I have also finally discovered what feels like my Work Local in The Dean Swift – it’s a short walk from the office, beautifully renovated, and it had a well-curated list of craft and craft-cask options, as well as some excellent food (gorgeous pumpkin ravioli!). Having an Irish nod in the name is a nice bonus, and I will most certainly be stopping back in regularly, now that I’ve properly discovered it. I also saw that Whiplash will be pouring their Slow Life stout there, so it’s nice to know there’s an interest in Irish craft beer in the Big Smoke. I’ll be back again in a few weeks…just for a bit of quality control, you see.

But I also enjoyed that rarest of rare events – a cask ale festival, in Ireland! We used to go to regular cask fests in both Philly and Seattle, and had plenty of good options for local and imported cask, so it was a bit of an adjustment to have essentially none available locally when we moved here (though initially, both The Underdog and The Black Sheep had regular cask offerings – it’s been a very slow return) – but this is old news to any semi-regular readers. Fortunately, the team behind the Mullingar Wild Ale Festival decided to organize a cask festival as well…and a good time was had by all. I think Simon’s write-up is an excellent place to start – he was much speedier than I ever manage to be, but he has some useful insights into why cask just isn’t much of a thing here, as well as some great photos; I neglected to take many myself (and not for any ‘living in the moment social media break’ reasons – just pure laziness).

But it was a really lovely little festival – all out the back of a pub in Mullingar, but sheltered from the elements. I’d never previously been to Mullingar and cannot claim any real familiarity with it now, but it was a convenient location – on a direct train line from my local station, so a very short walk on both ends. And, perhaps even more crucially, space to sit down and relax, and a generally unhurried pace of events. The only urgency was around grabbing a glass of the Dead Centre Sham Maths, which was correctly predicted to run out early, so after making that my first pour, all was well (and it was delicious on cask, as amber ales should be).

And while I adored having the chance to try some of my usual go-tos on cask – special shout-out to Ballykilcavan’s Bin Bawn Pale Ale – the overall ‘best of the fest’ for me was from Third Barrel, whose Afternoon Delight was a joy – a hoppy stout, very much in the vein of my inaccessible Pennsylvania fave, Troegs Dead Reckoning Porter; I may have gone back for a few. The tiny dimpled mugs were a nice touch, too.

So while I have some cask-adjacent trips planned in the lead-up to Christmas – back to London a few times, and up to Belfast for Uncanny Live – It was so pleasant to have a cask-filed afternoon out that required only minimal travel. Yes, it’s a bit annoying that cask is rare here, but it also makes finding it a bit of an adventure, and that’s never a bad thing.

* LEA SALONGA MRS LOVETT NOW!

** I last saw Mandy Patinkin live in about 1991, and we met him after the show; he was absolutely lovely and ‘did’ Inigo Montoya for a couple of starstruck theatre kids who couldn’t have been happier. He also gave us some snacks from the green room, as he was worried we’d skipped dinner for the show. I didn’t hang around to stagedoor after this one, as I’m a lot older/more tired nowadays, but his voice is just as wonderful, and his storytelling sublime.

We’re back in my busy travel time of year, so this week, it’s a quick selection of pubs from Kilkenny, rather than anything more local-to-me in Dublin. And I’m sure Kilkenny residents will rightly point out that these are all touristy in one way or another, but hey, you have to at least tick some of those off the list when it’s a flying visit. I was only in town overnight to catch Fra Fee singing Sondheim (AND LIZ CALLAWAY WAS THE SURPRISE GUEST – my fellow Sondheim nerds will understand the all-caps here – normals, feel free to move on*), so beer was not super-high on the agenda, for once.

But that said, I had a few hours free after a nice lunch with friends, and some poking around the various museums and historic sites, so I had to at least make a stop in at Kyteler’s Inn, which leans all the way in to its association with Dame Alice Kyteler, the subject of one of Ireland’s very few witchcraft trials in 1324. Not coincidentally, this is the date given for the foundation of the pub, and while that seems a bit too good to be true, we do have good documentation for Dame Alice owning the property (among many others, in her varied marriage-and-land-acquisition career), and it does seem genuinely ‘old’ – though I would guess more of the rambling pub is more of 15th century-and-onward date, but I would happily believe bits, at least, are older and have been reused. We have, naturally, covered Dame Alice and her unfortunate servant, Petronella, who was the one who ended up in the flames after Dame Alice fled abroad (Petronella now has a restaurant named after her, so, um, yay?) in a previous (AWARD-NOMINATED) Beer Ladies Podcast episode or two, which always gives us an excuse to re-bust the alewives/witches myth, but this was my first visit back to Kyteler’s Inn since a quick lunch there during some version of Covid protocols.

And while it is absolutely in the tourist camp – I mean, that cat logo and the €7 pint – I can’t fault that in any way; you gotta get a gimmick**. And I’m here for the rebadged O’Hara’s Red Ale as their house Witches Brew, which is clearly designated as such for The People Who Worry About That Sort of Thing (you know who you are). My only knock on the place – beyond the proliferation of North American accents – that many of My Countrypeople in one place always makes me a little nervous, but more on that in a moment – is that the tour-bus numbers make it a little too busy to have especially attentive service; I would absolutely have purchased one of the incredibly silly t-shirts if I’d been asked, but after my token pint, I never could catch anyone’s eye again, despite sitting at the bar. That said, I wasn’t planning to linger, so it wasn’t a terrible hardship.

I had a quick walk into the Smithwick’s Experience, just to check it out, but I almost immediately backed right out when I heard louder-than-usual Boomer American Men in Caps confidently declaring that this was where they made the beer that’s ‘just like a red Guinness‘ that ‘you can’t get back home’ and as the conversation was about to turn to ‘socialism,’ I had to flee. I wouldn’t mind doing the tour at some point (I am curious if they show off or describe anything about the medieval abbey that was here), but feel I’d need to go with friends who don’t have my accent, just to provide a sort of buffer.

After more pleasant strolling and some actual relaxation in my hotel, I ventured back out for dinner, this time, to Sullivan’s Taproom (‘established 1702’). They have considerably expanded their covered outdoor seating since our previous visit, and it’s a thoroughly pleasant spot, with a variety of nooks and crannies in the Craftonia style, and I saw A Thing I don’t think I’ve ever seen in this country – Young People being asked for ID before being served drinks. You can order via QR code or go to the bar, and while I know some are not fans of the QR code approach, as a solo diner/drinker, it’s very handy – no worry that your table will disappear if you need a refill. And while I’m not an unabashed fan of all of the house-made offerings at Sullivan’s – barring the red ale, which is very pleasant indeed – they do a lovely tasting tray, and the guest beer lineup is very good indeed. On my visit, there were options from Third Barrel and Bullhouse, to name just a few, and the pizza is excellent; all in all, a successful pre-theatre stop.

I had a very quick post-show pint (well, really, two glasses) at Cleere’s Bar, which was just across the street from the Watergate Theatre, and was obviously the spot for the creatives, too – it was nice to be able to give a quick ‘great job, loved the show’ and then let them enjoy their evening (and it was a fantastic show), and while there weren’t many craft options, it was nice to grab a Murphy’s as a bit of a change, and it had a very welcoming, traditional pub vibe.

All told, Kilkenny is a lovely little city for a quick break; I know there are a few other craft-supporting pubs I didn’t have the chance to get to, but it’s always good to leave something for next time. I’ll drink to that***.

*sorry/not remotely sorry

** still not sorry

*** everybody RISE

We’ll return to our regularly scheduled Weirdo Dublin Pubs programming next week, but first, some notes on a holiday. Last week, we went to Vienna for the first time, and in between the usual tourist spots like the Spanish Riding School, the Natural History Museum and the Haus der Musik, we managed to grab a few local beers; given the hot weather, the sheer number of radlers on offer was much appreciated. Also: TRAINS.

To keep this blog hyper-local for one moment, I have to share how exciting it was to go straight from our arrival gate in Vienna to A TRAIN IN THE AIRPORT – and not just one, there were various options, as well as buses! (For the uninitiated, Dublin is one of two European capitals without a train to the airport, though Budapest does have plenty of other transit modes – it’s been in the works for…well, a long time. It was last ‘guaranteed to open’ in 2007). And there was no need to take the (relatively) expensive express train, either; the S-Bahn to the U-Bahn got us to our hotel in mostly-air conditioned comfort, and very affordably, too.

After dropping off our bags, we headed out for lunch and had the first radler of the trip; I’m sure my Zwettler Radler from Salzburg is the sort of thing locals find unremarkable, but as someone who much prefers lemon vs grapefruit in my radler, I was very excited to have it – an ideal option for 30+ degree weather (something else we’re unaccustomed to, though it was much less welcome than the wonderful public transit, clean streets and ample public seating – we’re not built for heat or sunny conditions), especially with a tired child and a long (though much enjoyed) afternoon of excellent museum-ing on the cards.

After a tour around the excellent Natural History Museum, which houses the Venus of Willendorf* as well as a broader prehistory collection, plus the more usual rocks (honestly, pretty great) and taxidermied animals (a very chill-looking thylacine was my highlight – I always seek out the thylacine, if there is one), we headed to the much-recommended 1516 Brewing Company for an early dinner – and there, we were in for a treat. In addition to an absolutely gorgeous lager (also used for the radler), they produce Victory Hop Devil under license, whole hops and all. As former Pennsylvanians, this was an extremely exciting discovery, and it tasted absolutely like ‘the real thing’ in Downingtown. In a world with so many hazy IPAs, it was such a delight to have it on this side of the Atlantic, and fresh as could be. And given that my most recent Hop Devil would have likely been in a plastic cup in a car park before a Union game, it seemed very civilized indeed to be drinking it from a glass, seated at a table in Austria. Top marks for the pretzels, too – regular readers know that I have a grand unified theory about how all pubs and bars should have soft pretzels available, and my notion was only reinforced. The Kimber Ale, a sort of Altbier-ish sipper, was also very nice on a hot day. Before an early night, I did repair to the Prater with the child to ride a few rides, and while none were remarkable, at least we weren’t injured – this time. More on that later.

After a good night’s sleep, a decent hotel gym and an excellent breakfast buffet, we took in the Spanish Riding School, and while the tour was very well-done, we were graced with the presence of That Sort of American, who wanted to discuss, at length, how the Lipizzaners were rescued by THE UNITED STATES ARMY who then FREED EUROPE AND SAVED EVERYONE FROM COMMUNISM – yes, he seemed to speak in all-caps. He also complained that the signs from the Hop On Hop Off bus weren’t clear enough for him to understand them (and yet, there he was), and that perhaps all the signage should be reconsidered. The two young women guiding the tour had the sort of fixed smiles I could only admire; they were patience itself, although one did remark, ‘well, I do work here,’ upon being told by the gentleman in question that she had been ‘mostly right’ when he quizzed her on the horses’ wartime rescue (‘I read a book all about these horses and Patton’) – though, for someone who had done so much of his own research, he was shocked to discover the Spanish Riding School horses are all stallions – this is simply the most basic of all basic Horse Girl knowledge. I really needed a drink after that.

Unfortunately, there was nothing particularly local, beer-wise, on at the Philly-themed restaurant we tried – both taplines had kicked – so I had to make do with a Budvar. Now, it’s never a bad beer, and it was a pretty fresh bottle, but I’ll just say that this place was no Passyunk Ave, though the cheesesteak mac & cheese was not bad. And we returned to the Prater again, this time, rather less successfully. The indoor roller coaster gave me a really bad whack on the head (which they insisted was ‘impossible’), and I still have a painful lump there, over a week later. It’s more or less on a 0/10 – would not return now. I wasn’t expecting a Disneyland standard from it, but I did think it might be on a near par with Tivoli – alas, this was not the case; the overall impression after the injury (and seeing the middling state of the park overall) was less grand theme park, more temporary carnival. And not in a good way. It’s a shame – the child did really enjoy the IKEA advertising all over the famous Ferris wheel (no, really – she spoke of it for days after). So, not everything was perfect, though trips rarely are – though that said, I don’t think I’ve ever come home with an actual injury before.

But on to happier notes…I managed to score another radler at the Zoo, this time from Ottakringer, and again, it was lovely to get there and back again easily on the U-Bahn, and the rare breed cattle and horses were a special bonus for me – yes, I get excited about these things, and the Noriker mare and her colt were a delight. We made another pit stop at 1516 between tourist sites, and then finished up our evening at Mel’s Craft Beer and Diner. We chose this more out of necessity – there were things a picky child would eat – than design, and while the overall beer list was a bit basic, there were some interesting little highlights, and another unexpected American treat – they had a bottle of Anchor Steam. It was also the only place we could find a Vienna Lager – again, in a bottle that didn’t seem terribly fresh, though not by any means bad – but I suppose that’s the curse of the travelling beer nerd; the historic local style is always difficult to find, but there are plenty of the sort of things you could find absolutely anywhere, well, absolutely everywhere. Still – Anchor Steam!

Despite the knock on the head, I’d very much like to go back to Vienna again; there are quite a few museums and music-related sites we didn’t have the chance to check out, and I would absolutely go back to 1516 for any seasonal offering – I certainly wouldn’t say no to another lager or Hop Devil.

*For People Like Me who read all of the Earth’s Children/Clan of the Cave Bear books in the 1980s, you too can re-experience their very Mary Sue-ness with an entire wall of replicas of the artifacts referenced in the books. It would not have been weird to see someone cosplaying Jondalar and Ayla, or maybe Creb. It was a Whole Thing.