Traveling around the world and trying beers from foreign lands is always exciting—and often surprising, particularly when local customs are involved. This week, we asked The Fervent Few to share their most unexpected and memorable experiences of drinking beer abroad.
Tim Decker: “I really enjoyed drinking Altbier in Düsseldorf. I was visiting for a collaboration brew, and our host took us down these cobblestone streets in the rain, zig-zagging across and back as we popped into different old breweries and restaurants. Each one only served one option: its take on the traditional top-fermented, amber beer. When we entered each establishment, there was no beer list to peruse; instead, we were immediately taken to our table, and they began bringing out these 200ml cylindrical glasses of chestnut-brown beer with a creamy head. The quality of the beer—a result of 100+ years of focused discipline—was immediately apparent. We’d have one or two at each spot, close our tab (hash marks on a coaster), and head off to the next spot for an equally well-executed version of the same beer. The lack of choice may seem unappealing to some, but I found it incredibly refreshing.”
Pete Marshall: “While sat in the beautifully traditional beer hall that is Lokál Dlouhááá, not far from Prague's Old Town, I was pleasantly surprised to find that, having ordered my first glass of three-day-old Pilsner Urquell, the beer was served straight from a tank, without ever having been exposed to the air. I was also never without beer in my glass. As I gulped down the last of the delicious Světlý Ležák, a full mug would be placed on my table, and a mug icon would be crossed off of my beer card.”
Nick Yoder: “A few years ago we traveled to Prague to visit my sister-in-law, who worked there for two years. One day my brother-in-law and I walked down the road to the local pizza restaurant with an empty, two-liter pop bottle in tow. When we arrived, the man behind the bar took our bottle and filled it up with unfiltered Pilsner Urquell. Coming from the U.S., where there are myriad perplexing laws about growlers and takeaway beer, it was refreshing to see such unpretentiousness.”
Siege: “I lived and studied in Amman, Jordan for a month and some change for a military immersion. Drinking is illegal in the majority of countries in the Middle East due to religious laws. When we first arrived, the only place we could find to drink together was in the hotel bar, where Amstel and an anise liquor were the offerings.
Our instructors were college grad students from language departments, Lama and Raya, both wonderfully kind and protective of us as travelers. We invited them out in the evenings, which usually included an all-you-can-eat feast of hummus, falafel, baba ganoush, and tea, plus hookah with fresh fruit. One night Raya recommended we check out Rainbow Street.
If you Google Rainbow Street, the description focuses on how it’s perfect for walking and restaurants. Yet the area is full of college students and politically charged folks. Raya had a hard time explaining to us through the language barriers that this is where the LGBTQ+ community resides—through our poor Arabic and her educational-focused English, she explained the history of the area to us, and how it was her favorite place to frequent. Raya would have a beer with us, in the few places you could get craft. These little bastions were indicators of political movement, acceptance, and a want for change.
We sipped beer and Arabic coffee every night at an amazingly slow pace. It's common for people to be anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour late for any appointment because they run into a friend and get caught up, and communing with them is more important than anything else. ‘Inshallah’ means ‘God willing,’ and it's a phrase that gets attached to times and dates all the time. If Allah wills you to be there on time, then they won't put anyone in your path.
I long for that pace of life in America. Beer gods willing, I hope that one day we can all slow down.”
Lana Svitankova: “I remember first encountering a bottled Hefeweizen pour. The bartenders would pour the beer into this huge glass, full of foam, and then would roll the nearly empty bottle on the table to agitate the yeast and pour it over the foam. I've seen a lot of people freaking out about murky cascades, but I was totally nonplussed, given my belief that yeast shouldn't be poured into beer.
One tradition I know but have never experienced firsthand (but was really surprised to learn about) is serving bottle-fermented Belgian beers in a normal glass and pouring yeast sediment into a tiny glass to be served separately.”
Steve Rimington: “I’ve had Blue Moon here in the U.K., simply straight up. Imagine my reaction when being served it with a slice of orange in a bar/restaurant when in the States. The server noted our confusion and reassured us that it was ‘a thing.’ I simply had to validate that afterwards, and was surprised to understand that it was customary.”
Do you have any stories of unexpected beer moments while on the road? Join The Fervent Few, share your story with us, and support all of the great content Good Beer Hunting produces.
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