Monday, 13 October 2008

The Oracle


What: As yet unidentified
Beer: Salopian Oracle
Receptacle: Standard pint glass
Situation: In the Six Templars in Hertford

When I lived in Hertford, I thought it was a rather dull town where nothing much happened. A couple of months after I moved out of Hertford, I went to France and Spain in search of the Holy Grail. A few years after that, it turned out the Holy Grail may in fact have been in Hertford all along.

Having recently opened a new pub in Hertford, Wetherspoons naturally decided to name it the Six Templars (after the four Templar knights who were imprisoned next door in Hertford castle, and, er, two others who weren't). I had taken Victoria to visit Hertford, and was determined to visit this establishment, which I felt would be ideal for beer reading. My brother, Mark, was sufficiently intrigued by the concept of beer reading to come along. Or perhaps he just wanted a drink.

When we entered the Six Templars, I was immediately struck by two things. Firstly, it was indeed decorated with Templar crosses and replica helmets, swords etc. Secondly, they had a guest ale called Oracle.

Surely a reading from the Oracle in the Six Templars pub in the possible home of the Holy Grail was going to give me a vital clue as to the location of this most sought-after of relics?

At first, the Oracle refused to give any real readings; there was a lot of foam but no real shapes, just big lines around the glass. Then, as I progressed through the pint, a clear and unusual shape appeared about halfway down.

Unfortunately, I couldn't tell what the shape actually was. "Maybe it's a kind of insect, with a really long antenna?" I suggested. Victoria disagreed that it could possibly be an animal, and Mark pointed out that even if it was, that didn't really help us find the Holy Grail. It also reminds me of a bicycle brake.

However, upon further consideration, I realised the very obscurity and esotericism of this reading was a positive sign. If it really does indicate the true location of the Holy Grail, I wouldn't expect it just to give a really obvious symbol; it would almost certainly be something mysterious requiring further interpretation.

So now all I have to do is work out the true meaning of this odd shape. Back in Cambridge later that evening, Victoria and I met up with Lizzy, here for the weekend, in the Fort St George. I showed her my reading, and explained its significance. Lizzy thought it might be a duck, but I was not convinced.

While in the Fort St George, I was drinking Ridley's Witchfinder Porter. Again, this beer proved highly suitable for beer reading and I saw the image of a wolf, fox, or possibly even my parents' dog, Max. Sadly by the time I'd managed to picture it, the image had decayed somewhat and it now looks more like a rubber duck in the bath. I'm sure that it was actually a canine of some description though. I wondered whether if it was Max and he had appeared in the Witchfinder beer, this was confirmation of my long-held suspicion that he was a dog with supernatural telepathic abilities; he always seems to know five minutes before somebody arrives at the house and goes to sit by the door.

Thursday, 2 October 2008

Moose!


What: Moose!
Beer: Nethergate Mad Bob
Receptacle: Standard pint glass
When: 1 October 2008
Situation: Waiting for Richard Queens to turn up, in the Green Dragon

Richard was late to the pub as usual; I'd been waiting most of the evening just for him to stop playing with his laser and turn his phone on again so we could agree when and where to go, and even after he claimed to be approaching the Green Dragon it was another half hour before he actually got there, as he went to get some fish and chips on the way, having remembered he'd forgotten to eat anything.

But although RQ still hadn't appeared, something definitely seemed to be appearing in my beer. At first, trying hard not to see an animal, I thought it looked like a withered, wind-blasted, tree stump. Then I gave in, and admitted I was looking at what was obviously the head of a moose. Despite not having full beer reading kit, I managed to get a fairly clear picture of it on my phone.

While waiting for RQ, I texted Victoria. "I've got either a tree stump or a moose in my beer", I claimed.

"I'm sure it's not a moose or any other kind of animal!" she insisted.

RQ turned up. "Hello Richard", I said, "I've got a good beer reading here."

"Wow, that's a moose!" he replied.

I sent Victoria the moose.

It is, she conceded, definitely a moose. (Or, in some parts of the world, it would be an elk.)

It's possible that the moose is advising me to watch tonight's vice-presidential debate featuring noted moose-slayer Sarah Palin. However, it doesn't start until 2am UK time, so I'm not going to take its advice on this occasion.

Wednesday, 1 October 2008

Dead rabbit


What: Absolutely nothing
Beer: Orkney Dark Island & Kronenbourg 1664
Receptacle: Standard pint glass & thin tapering Kronenbourg glass
When: 24 September 2008
Situation: Attempt at beer reading in the Green Dragon

Richard Queens and I attempted to do some beer reading in the Green Dragon and I remembered all the kit. The only problem was that the beers failed to produce any readings whatsoever. My first pint, Bonkers Conkers, did actually have promising foam but none of the shapes really resolved into anything better than a kind of horizontal question mark that wasn't worth picturing. The second, Dark Island, was a very nice beer but had no foam at all. RQ had no foam either, not surprisingly as he refused to drink any actual beer and stuck to Kronenbourg.

What: the decaying corpse of a beautiful rabbit
Beer: Hopback Entire Stout
Receptacle: Straight-sided pint glass
When: 27 September 2008
Situation: A large gathering of friends in the Kingston Arms

I wasn't really expecting any readings to emerge in the Kingston Arms, where I was with a large group eating and having a few drinks. I stuck with the Entire Stout all evening and hadn't brought beer-reading kit. However, shortly into my second pint, a rabbit leapt out from the foam! It was such a clear and undeniable rabbit that even Victoria, despite her general scepticism about my animal readings, noticed it. But I was too slow in my futile attempts to get a decent picture of it with my phone camera and no adequate background or light and by the time I captured it, the once clear rabbit was now a barely recognisable corpse. You can still see its ear, but the rest has subsided into foamy nothingness.