“Abandon hope, all ye hopheads who enter here,” could have been the motto of the 3,5 Bon-Chien & Friends Sour Ale Congregation in Saignelégier, Switzerland. Sorry, no room for hazy stuff here. Instead, this was the promised land of all things tart, sour, acidic, barrel-aged, and funky.
Seemingly unquenchable thirst—for more than just beer—was hanging in the air when I arrived, cloaking the attendees who came seeking events, talks, and the chance to geek out and hang out. They trickled in by foot, bike, or horse cart (the latter of which were ready to pick passengers up at the train station and give them an amusing ride to the brewery). They came alone, and they came with friends, partners, kids, dogs, and handfuls of smiles and timid hugs. I have never before experienced an equivalent event where people talked more than they drank.
The congregation wasn’t especially big, and therefore perfect. A cozy hum of human voices cocooned and lulled me into a blissful state, elated at being around others and being together, a group of people interacting again at the first proper festival in ages. The clinking of glass. Bursts of laughter. The steady rattle of wooden benches and boards of sausages and cheese being put on tables. And then the rain came crashing down, sounding like a herd of horses sent into a stampede, the crescendo of the day.
It was all a beautiful melody I’d almost forgotten in the past two years. I was so happy to hear it again.
Words + Photo by Lana Svitankova