Not all of Barcelona is beautiful. I’m sorry to dispel the myth. But you do have to travel pretty far to find the parts that aren’t. Over the years, I’ve learned that being a beer writer often means venturing to the obscure parts of town—the industrial parks, the eerily quiet warehouses. Most new breweries seem situated at the exact point where you think you’ve gone too far. This simply can’t be the place.
Garage Beer Co. is one such example. To get there from central Barcelona, you need to walk uphill along a busy road lined with crash barriers, dumpsters, and hard-hat signs. Passing trucks throw dust up in clouds, leaving me rasping for breath. To the left is a huge construction site that seems to stretch right back into town. I doubt myself more with every step. The only thing that stops me from asking for directions is that, well, there’s no one around to ask.
But then, I can hear the rattle of cans on a line and the beep, beep, beep of a forklift in reverse: the dissonant choir that could only come from a brewery. To a lost and thirsty beer writer, there is no sweeter sound—even if the brewery itself isn’t quite a sight for sore eyes.
