The Worst

Saturday, I went on a brewery crawl AKA the Bermondsey Beer Mile. While I’m pretty sure the word “brewery” is meant to put you in mind of something more highbrow than a pub crawl, it was basically the same thing. Except instead of a long wooden bar, there were picnic tables and instead of televisions, there were giant brew kettles urrywurr. And lots of bearded men with toned arms… But I digress. We started at 11:30AM (‘nother difference between this and a pub crawl, haha) and visited 5 breweries. We each bought our own beer, then passed them around amongst ourselves (so that’s what that song is about…).

We started our boozetastic tour of wonder at Fourpure in Bermondsey. I chose the strongest one they had a transnational IPA that was surprisingly easy to drink! It was dark in color, but not very bitter. Two people from my group  got a brown ale (delicious) and a pale one (pretty good). Next, we headed to Partizan Brewery where I found my winner for the day: Rooibos Pomegranate Pale Ale. It was crisp, light, and flavorful without being overwhelming. In other words, I’d totally buy a six-pack of that. We also hit The Kernel Brewery, where I had their London Sour Cherry beer. It was actually sour, like a Sourpatch Kid without all the sugar. I liked it, but don’t think I could drink it too often (because if I did, there’d be nothing left of my esophagus).

The reason this post is called The Worst is because lately I’ve gotten into the bad (if you blog) habit of consuming things without taking pictures of them first. So everything I’ve just said could be some Inception-esque drivel I concocted for fun. Or a drug-induced hallucination (from Inception to Requiem for a Dream). I guess this is where you and I really test our relationship. You’ll have to dig deep, deeeep into the bowels of your heart and find that glowy ball of affection that allows you to trust me. I totally drank this beer. And stumbled upon a little market nearby where I bought waffles covered in pulled duck and plum sauce, then topped with two fried eggs (now that probably does sound like a hallucination, but it was real. Sweet zombie Jesus, it was oh so real).

I know I said I went to 5 pubs breweries, but I can’t remember the names of the other two. I honestly can’t decide if I should blame drunkenness or my geriatric capacity for memory. In any case, I remember the other beers being drinkable.

Anyhoo, after beerfest, I ran over to the Royal Opera House to see Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute). Listen… I was so pumped for this. The lights go down,  Tamino is being lusted after by the Queen’s henchwomen, then entrusted with his great mission — rescuing Pamina — by the Queen, Papageno is acting a fool, and Sarastro’s extolling the virtues of knowledge and philosophy. All is well. Then…it’s suddenly Intermission. No, I didn’t write a paragraph and delete it by accident.

I fell asleep.

It may have been all the beer and all the walking around…but I missed most of the first half of the opera (and proved once again that I am, in fact, The Worst).

The second act was good (and luckily, I stayed awake for it). The singing was of course phenomenal, and Papageno cracked everyone up with his desperation for love and inability to keep his mouth shut. It became very clear to me though that operas are really only meant to showcase beautiful voices (and stunning costumes/sets), not stories. The trials in Act II were almost immediately overcome (and it didn’t just seem that way bc I fell asleep during the first half). I actually want to see a show about the Queen of the Night now. She was interesting. I also wouldn’t mind a follow up show on Papageno’s remaining years (hands down my favorite character). Is there an extremely zealous individual somewhere out there who wouldn’t mind digging around Mozart’s archives to see if he wrote anything else about these people?

The only pictures I took at the ROH were of the empty-ish theatre and its ceiling:

image

Pretty, right?

but I’ll do better next time. The Royal Opera House is gorgeous, and I definitely plan on going back. But in future — just to be safe — it’ll probably be the only thing I do that day.

Happy Monday!!!

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13 thoughts on “The Worst

  1. Oh, bless you, you really are a Brit now! Drinking real ale indeed! Don’t worry about falling asleep, I’ve done that too, in the front row of a theatre, no less! My excuse was that I was exhausted and it was the first chance I’d had to stop and relax in weeks (no, I hadn’t had alcohol beforehand, and my body does this to me sometimes). Ha ha ha, can’t stop laughing now.x

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    • I was SO mad at myself! There had been tickets that cost less than half what I paid, but people snatched them up before I could. If I’d paid less, maybe I wouldn’t have been so annoyed with myself for falling asleep, lol. I found out the name of the market where I got the waffles! Totally going back there this weekend.

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  2. I don’t really drink beer. Cider, bring it on! Beer, meh. But I love sour patch kids so I might make an exception for that Sour Cherry one! x

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  3. Oh I DO THIS ALL THE TIME! Not the falling asleep in opera thing, the not photographing stuff before you consume it. If there isn’t a gaggle of bloggers around to remind me to photograph it I’m useless. Though I guess that’s how I know it was a good time, I was too busy enjoying myself to remember my bloggy responsibilities. x

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  4. A ‘Rooibos Pomegranate Pale Ale’ Whaaaaaaatttt????? That sounds like the best thing ever!! and oh my gosh the last time I went to the Opera I almost fell asleep during the first half…it was sooooo hard to keep my eyes open it was crazy!

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