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 Last night we visited the excellent Mager brewery guesthouse in Pottenstein (town pictured right). The dunkel - served under air pressure without extra CO2 - was world class. The town itself was dead, so after dinner we repaired to the local dive. Andy was welcomed as a returning hero by the locals who hadn't left their stools since his last visit a year ago.
 We enjoyed the company of a local policeman, who drank a cocktail of beer, cola and kirch from a litre stein. We weren't able to avoid his offer to share. The beer of choice was a dunkel landbier, served from bottles that gave out the most pronounced pop when opened by Ziggy, our Saxon host. Near the end of the night, the policeman switched to water so he could drive home. He probably wouldn't have bothered, but for the watchful gaze of his old mum, who sat puffing ciggies at the bar.
This morning we checked out the breweries of Bayreuth, touring the enormous catacombs of Atkien (pictured left) and the historic steam powered brewhouse of Maisel. Both beers are now brewed in a super-modern plant next door, but it's good that the old buildings and equipment have been kept intact. Thanks to Andy's contacts we were admitted to the inner sanctum of the brewery, a mahogany bar room filled with Herr Maisel's hat collection. Beer schnapps was served. Ron had two shots. The rest of us thought better of it and stuck to one.
 Life is good in this part of the world. Today, the local paper's headline was about a possible rise in the price of milk - the grim affairs of the world are kept at arm's length. Everything is beautiful, apart from the beer guts sported by most men over thirty. When beer is less than 2 Euros a half litre, who can blame them for overindulging?
 Today we've toured a few of the breweries of "Swiss Franconia", a region of undulating hills. There's a pub or guesthouse in every other village brewing beer, and most are doing an exceptionally good job of it. I think we've stopped at around eight today, but I'm not keeping count. That's what Ron's notebook is for. Pictured left is one of the best we visited, Kathi-Brau, a remote brewery and tavern in rustic buildings. Mugs of the excellent house brew are pictured right.
It's early evening, and we've arrived in Pottenstein where we'll spend the night. Once again we're overlooked by dramatic cliffs. Roads wind up the hill from the elegant town brewery to the imposing fortress. A canal trickles by. It's time to hit the beer gardens and sample the local produce, I think.
You might notice there isn't much detailed analysis of the beers we're drinking in these posts. In Franconia, beer is brewed and beer is drunk. It's simple, it's natural, and it's rubbed off on me.
Last night's Annafest was marred with rain, dampening our spirits and leaving just one option - get pissed. Not hard when 23 cellar bars hewn into the living rock are serving litres of festbier in stoneware mugs. We ascended the hill, through the temporary fairground. Ropey tribute bands blasted out hits from Lulu and Sting. Brilliant.  This morning I walked with Big Ron into Forchheim, a town with four breweries - three on one street. We checked Hebendanz out first. A basic two room bar, with a simple tap and barrel set up in the corner. Almost all the tables were taken up by sozzled senescents on their third or fourth pint. Schnapps and Jagermeister flowed freely. It was 9.30 a.m. on a Monday morning. Mental. We grabbed seats next to a mute, bewhiskered gentleman. We managed to sit on the one table reserved for regulars, prompting a torrent of invective from a haggard looking woman with her wiry hair forced into incongruous pigtails. On her table was an old boy clearly shunned even by his own kind. I sneaked a photo with my phone ( pictured right). Naturally he was flanked by crutches and white as a sheet. He launched into an incoherent monlogue which the barman warned us to ignore. While he ranted at Ron I contemplated my first beer of the day. This isn't easy - it's a good job you've got me to do it for you.
 We've just said goodbye to Herr Schneider and left the beautiful village of Essing. After breakfast he was kind enough to show us around his compact brewhouse, even allowing us to peer into his open fermentation vessels.
I learned that the guesthouse brewery, though independent, is part of a network of similar establishments across Germany, Austria, Switzerland and Denmark. A great concept - a weekend in a little village with a never ending supply of beer brewed on site. Not much chance of going thirsty - which is a good job, considering the rate at which Ron's knocking the back.
Our next stop's Weissenohe Klosterbrauerei, then the Hofmann brauhaus. This afternoon we'll be settling into a Forchheim and exploring the forest before whipping ourselves into a beer frenzy at the Annafest.
 Six generations of a family, absolutely devoted to the same ideal. The brewery tour at Schneider Weisse told us all about the six brewers Georg. We even got to see the original recipe book (pictured left), proving they've stuck to tradition.
The highlight of the visit was Aventinus Eisbock. It's a 12% abv distilled version of the brewery's bock, and it's mindblowing. I've got two bottles to bring home. The aroma blows your head off - it's a wheat beer as complex and tasty as a Belgian quad.
 After Schneider Weisse we drove to Weltenburg Kloster (courtyard pictured right), a baroque paradise overlooking the Danube. The monks are no fools, as most of their enormous courtyard is a beer garden. The church itself is a masterpiece. The beer didn't impress - the dunkel was quaffable, with a lasting chocolate aftertaste. The bock offered much of the same with the volume turned up.
We've just arrived at our next stop - the Josef Schneider brewery and guest house in Essing. He's no relation the the wheat beer chaps we visited earlier. Cliffs overhang the building where we'll sleep. Eek.
A 9.45 a.m. rendezvous at Nuremburg airport meant a very early start in Clerkenwell. I've had three hours sleep and I'm already heading for brewery number two, powering down the autobahn to Schneider Weisse in Kelheim.
 When he first met me this morning, tour leader Andy Neil's first words weren't a conventional greeting. Instead he looked me up and down and expressed amazement that I wasn't obese, as he and Ron had expected. Cheers lads. A compliment, I think.
 After assembling the party, the six of us hit the road to Regensburg, a beautiful town just to the south of Franconia. After taking in the majesty of the mighty Danube, we crossed the bridge to Spital, a brewery and beer garden on the river bank. After a six day beer fast, a litre of Dunkel went down a treat. Reminding me more of a Czech dark beer than anything else, this was a lovely brew. Hints of dark fruit set against a sweetish malty body, followed by he merest suggestion of coffee. Ron liked it too.
You'll have to excuse the lack of photos and fancy formatting for the next few days - such are the indignities of mobile blogging [Photos now added]. Do you remember when they released that Beatles album a couple of years ago, with all the extraneous orchestral arrangements stripped out, leaving just the authentic sound of the band? Well, this is rather like that. All you've got is the raw Stonch prose style - becoming progressively incoherent as the beer count rises...
On Saturday morning I'm flying to Germany for a five day tour of Franconia, a region with the highest concentration of breweries in the world. The trip has been organised by Andy Neil of Bier Mania. Fellow beer writer Ron Pattinson will also be joining the group. In total, we'll visit as many as 30 breweries and brewpubs. Here are just a few of the highlights I'm looking forward to:
 Schneider Weisse
On day one of the tour, we'll be visiting the famous weissbier producer. The brewery's founder, Georg I. Schneider, is credited with saving the style from decline and extinction. His great-great-great grandson Georg VI. works in the brewery today, and is poised to take over the family business when his father Georg V. retires. After taking a look at their open fermentation vessels, we'll have the chance to sample the whole range.
 The Annafest
It's a world away from the huge beer tents of the Munich Octoberfest. The Annafest at Forchheim is a traditional celebration, held in the forest. Barrels of beer lagered in hillside caves are tapped for the first time, and served by the entrance to the cellars. We'll be getting involved on Sunday evening.
 Kloster Weltenburg
The oldest monastic brewery in the world isn't Belgian, and it isn't Trappist. The Benedictine monks of Weltenburg have been brewing since 1050. The abbey and brewery are beautifully situated on the banks of the Danube, deep in the Black Forest. In 2004 their dunkel (dark lager) was named best of its style in the world. The mighty Asam Bock is also well regarded. Drinking them in this magnificent setting will be an unforgettable experience.
 Bamberg
The "Rome of Franconia" has eleven breweries for just 70,000 inhabitants, and is home to rauchbier (smoked beer). Bamberg is also renowned for its unspoilt historic centre, a medieval and renaissance paradise spared from wartime damage. The town is built on seven hills, each crowned with a church. On day five, we'll be visiting all of the breweries, including the legendary Schlenkerla and Spezial taverns. To drink some of my favourite beers direct from the source in such beautiful surroundings will be a dream come true. I can't wait.
A trip abroad doesn't mean a hiatus in writing. I'll be sharing our experiences with you in frequent posts, thanks to the wonders of mobile blogging. You'll have to wait until Friday for the photos. Prost!
 If you find yourself facing a beer-related dilemma, you're probably taking things a little too seriously. Beer is for drinking, end of story. On the other hand, how can I overlook a label that bears this legend:
This bottle is one of a Limited Edition of 3,000.
Bottled to commemorate Brewery Month - September 1992.
Bass Brewers Limited, Burton upon Trent. This week a bottle of 15 year old Worthington's White Shield, one of Britain's most iconic beers, fell into my lap. It's pictured side by side with today's bigger, trendier version. I wonder how many of its 2,999 pals have made it this far? What do you think? Spare the little fella's life, or crack it open for a side by side tasting of old and new?
John Williams, a local businessman, has stepped into save Archers, the Swindon brewery. The company went into administration back in May. The Morning Advertiser reported the good news yesterday.
Hopefully, they'll take a long hard look at themselves to see what went wrong. Cash flow problems and underselling were responsible for Archers near death experience. However, I think their general strategy left a lot to be desired. They need to develop a solid range of beers and promote them properly, and forget about the special brews and rebadges.
 Importing cask beer into Britain is definitely a case of selling coal to Newcastle. Nonetheless, that's what the organisers of the Great British Beer Festival tried to do. A list of American cask ales as long as your arm were to be available at the international bar.
Tragically - and I don't use that word lightly - the plan hasn't come together. One of the casks leaked en route, resulting in the whole shipment being quarantined in New Jersey. Short of flying it over, the beer won't arrive in time for the festival, which starts in 14 days (7-11 August). Click here to see what you could have won. To make it even worse, this is happening for the second year in a row. Last year the American casks missed the show and had to be distributed to smaller, regional festivals. This year's snarl up means they'll be knocking the idea on the head for future festivals too. 500 British cask ales at the festival will have to be your lot, then.
UPDATE: Good news. The organisers were able to fly the casks over after all. 34 American draught beers will be available at the GBBF.
Market analysts as Citigroup predicted yesterday that a merger between two of the world's largest brewing companies, Anheuser-Busch and InBev, was "inevitable". The report stated there was a 70% chance of this happening within the next two years. Cost savings and synergies would dictate the move.
The two giants are already swapping brands. A-B acquired Rolling Rock from InBev in May, and in February secured exclusive rights to import InBev beers for the American market. If you're in the US and drink Bass, Becks or Stella Artois, you're already "enjoying" the fruits of this partnership. A merger will make little difference. The world will still be flooded with homogenised swill, and fools will still be parted with their money.
It's a joyless tale, but there's always something to smirk about. The CEO of A-B is called "August Busch IV". His CFO goes by the name of "W. Randolph Baker". Why do some Americans give themselves such ludicrous names, and still expect to be taken seriously?
 After a lairy Friday night and a monster hangover on Saturday, I lived to fight another day. Our pal Robbles offered to drive us to Windsor and Eton for a bit of sightseeing and a few jars. The air was clear after the crazy rainstorms of the last few days, setting the scene for a glorious afternoon in the sun.
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 After saying hi to the Queen and bothering her swans, we settled in for lunch at The King and Castle, opposite Liz and Phil's gaff. It's a Wetherspoons, but as a nod to the neighbours they've toned down the branding. A raised patio overlooks a huge beer garden, shaded by the trees of Windsor Great Park.
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One of the guest ales caught my eye: Oakham White Dwarf (4.3% abv). English wheat beers are usually poor relations to the Belgian wit and the German weiss, but not this one. White Dwarf is a perfect splash for a sunny day. It looks innocent enough in the glass, a perfectly clear straw colour. It's lively on the tongue, with pronounced lemon and peach flavours, and finishes with a bitter twang. This should appeal to everyone who likes a refreshing but flavoursome ale. Magic.
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Information:
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Oakham Ales is based in Peterborough (website). You should be able to try White Dwarf and its stablemates this week at The Coronet (338–346 Holloway Road, N7 6NJ) this week. The cinema conversion is hosting a week long exposition of Oakham's beers - details are on Wetherspoons' website here.
I feel as rough as guts. The Pembury Tavern beer festival was brilliant, as expected. Last night, we put my theories about beer not being the binge drinker's poison to the test. The ale and cider on offer wasn't lacking in its headbanging qualities.
I feel a bit to fragile to wax lyrical. Perhaps those last two pints of Milton Mammon (7% abv) were a mistake. I don't think there was much wisdom in deciding to concentrate on Wiscombe Suicider (8% abv), either.
 Chris Gill is a friendly chap, and he's very excited to be selling his favourite beers in the heart of London. He's the owner of Quaffs, a new market stall in Spitalfields.
 I chanced upon it when visiting the Thursday antiques market at lunchtime. Comparisons with Utobeer in Borough are inevitable. Quaffs is a fraction of the size, but the choices are excellent. Prices are very reasonable - most beers are between £2 and £3. Glassware is also available. A true enthusiast, before long Chris was telling me which beers feature in his own top ten, and what his plans for the future are. Like me he's a fan of La Trappe and St Bernardus, carrying a full range from both. Light and dark Czech lagers from Bohemia Regent are a change from the usual. Schlenkerla Rauchbier, Schneider Aventinus and Kostritzer Schwarzbier are the pick of the German crop. It was the American beers that really caught my eye: Quaffs is the first place I've seen the Flying Dog beers, new to the UK. I also walked away with a bottle of Great Divide Titan IPA. The beer scene in London is getting better all the time. Quaffs is a worthy addition, and will be welcomed by those City workers who know the truth - the best things in life are beery. Information: Quaffs is part of Spitalfields Fine Food Market, and is only open during market hours - 10am to 5pm on Thursday, Friday and Sunday. The website lists all the beers. Click here for directions and a map. When you visit, tell him that Stonch sent you.
Yesterday the owners of FARK.com featured our BrewCam. It's a website that pulls together news stories, videos and general randomalia from across the net. We knew nothing about it until they emailed us. Cheers lads - in the space of 24 hours over 6,500 visitors from around the world have taken a look.
 There isn't a pub in London that can hold a better beer festival than The Pembury Tavern. First off, the place is enormous, with 16 handpumps and plenty of room for stillage. Second, the beer choices are always spot on - you don't just see a list of award winners from other festivals, nor do they waste space on beers from larger brewers. Last but not least, they've got a bar billiards table.
The pub's latest beer festival starts today and runs until Saturday. It's the pub's third since it first opened in early 2006. The beer list has a few highlights, the most interesting coming from Milton in Cambridge: whatever you do, don't miss out on Mammon and Marcus Aurelius, two mighty dark ales. I can vouch for Jarrow Rivet Catcher and Cairngorm Trade Winds, lighter beers I've raved about in the past.
I'll be at the festival throughout Friday evening - if you're about, do say hello.
Information:
The Pembury Tavern is at 90 Amhurst Road, Hackney, E8 1JH (Tel: 020 8986 8597, map, website). It's on several bus routes (including the 38 and the 55 from the centre), and is a short walk from Hackney Central railway station. You can read about the pub's last festival here.
 I know that some of you who couldn't care less what our homespun hooch tastes like. To those among you who are disinterested, I say this - skip this article, you heartless rotters. Begone.
 SGB ( Stonch Goon Bitter) has had ample time to condition and mature, and it's probably at its best right now. This was our third brew, and it's had quite a journey. . Things started well, but we had trouble keeping it cool during May's heatwave. To perk it up a bit, we decided to dry hop in the barrel with a bag of Bramling Cross, kindly provided by a blog reader and fellow homebrewer (thanks again to Dave from Suffolk, a.k.a. Fivetide). After almost 50 days in the barrel, it's a perfectly clear, burnished orange. The alcoholic strength of around 5% abv is evident after a couple of pints, but doesn't impede quaffing. The fresh hop aroma and flavour - citrus, spicy orange - adds an appealing tang. There aren't any complex flavours, as you'd expect from an extract kit brew, but this is a decent beer that you'd be happy to drink in the pub. . Lesson for the day - give your beers bags of time to mature. A few weeks can work wonders.
 The Cask Marque logo will be familiar to most British ale drinkers. The body was set up by a chartered accountant in 1997 as a real ale accreditation scheme. It's jointly funded by retailers and brewers. Pubs apply to be members of the organisation, although the award is made to the licensee, not to the pub, on the basis of bi-annual inspections (quarterly for new members). The idea has its appeal, but I've found you can't rely on the Cask Marque. All manner of criticisms have been levelled in the past, but two recent incidents have confirmed my own suspicions.
.  Last week, against my better judgement, I ended up supping a pint of London Pride just off Oxford Street. The Cask Marque logo was attached to the hand pump. The pint was so tired you'd think it'd just run a marathon. Added to that, the staff were using pint glasses as drip trays. Each new pint was dispensed on top of the stale overflow from the last. . One Edinburgh pub we visited over the weekend was The White Hart Inn on Grassmarket. It displayed the Cask Marque plaque outside. Only keg beer was available, the hand pumps idle. The bar staff indicated this wasn't unusual. Looking around, everyone was drinking lager and Guinness. Of course, you might consider it unfair to judge the entire scheme on the basis of two pubs. If you've had similar or contrary experiences, let me know. For now, I won't be relying on the Cask Marque.
I've just returned from my mate Ross's stag weekend in Edinburgh, the city of his birth. A tidal wave of dark, malty beer (mainly Caledonian 80/-) took us through from arrival on Friday afternoon to departure on Sunday. In total we must have visited about 15 pubs, bars and clubs. Most of them are unworthy of a write-up here, but fun for other reasons. These were the beery highlights: The Bow Bar  The Bow Bar sits on the gloriously picturesque West Bow, which winds down from the end of George IV Bridge to the Grass Market below. Edinburgh's Old Town is very much a city of two levels, and nowhere is that more apparent than here.  The pub's modest frontage and small, single bar looks like it's been perfectly preserved since Edwardian times. In fact, it was refitted in the 1970s. Vintage adverts for beer and tobacco adorn the walls. The beer engines are the traditional air pressure pumps, unusual south of the Border. . We visited on both days, and noticed that the beer line-up changed. This place has a high turnover, and is busy throughout the day. Most of the eight ales on offer came from Scotland. Cairngorm Trade Winds was the most enjoyable, an award-winning blonde from the Highlands bursting with spicy and floral hops. Information: - The Bow Bar is at 80 West Bow, EH1 2HH (Tel: 0131 226 7667, map)
- Cairngorm Brewery is based in Aviemore in Invernesshire (website).
The Guildford Arms   Edinburgh's best pubs are clearly no secret - The Guildford Arms in the New Town was packed out too. The astonishingly opulent bar is reached through revolving doors. The ornate ceiling and green leather banquettes surround a large bar replete with eight hand pumps. Regular beers include Deuchars IPA and Timothy Taylor Landlord, but it was the guests from Scottish micros we were interested in. Orkney Dark Island is marketed as an old ale, but the dry roasted character suggested a stout. This was a glorious wee drop, chocolate, liquorice and dark fruit sitting happily together. It was in absolutely perfect condition - there's nothing better than live beer dancing a jig on the palate.
Information: - The Guildford Arms is at 1-5 West Register Street, EH2 2AA (Tel: 0131 556 4312, map).
- The Orkney Brewery in Stromness has a token online presence, with more information available via Quaffale.
The Cafe Royal
 The Cafe Royal is right next door to The Guildford Arms, and also boasts an unspoiled Victorian interior and elegant revolving doors. The ceramic depictions of industrial heroes and maritime scenes are particularly well-preserved. An island bar is faced on one side with a high partition, behind which an elegant and upmarket restaurant is hidden. This remarkable co-existence of a busy city bar with an expensive temple of white linen and silver service harks back to the pubs of the Victorian and Edwardian eras. The beer selection was far from impressive, with only three ales, one of them the dreaded Courage Directors. Isle of Skye Red Cuillin was a dark copper pint, served slightly past its best but enjoyable nonetheless. The rich nutty flavour was distinctively Scottish, with only the lightest sprinkling of Fuggles to balance things up.
Information:
- The Cafe Royal is 17 West Register Street, EH2 2AA (Tel: 0131 556 4124 map).
- Isle of Skye Brewing Company are online here.
The Halfway House  The Royal Mile, which runs from the Castle to the Scottish Parliament hundreds of feet below. The Castle Rock was once an active volcano, and the Mile is built on the solidified lava that once poured from its mouth. Narrow alleys, called "closes", descend from the street on both sides. The Halfway House is hidden down one of these passages. Despite its secluded location, it's very handy for the railway station. The Halfway House was CAMRA's Scottish pub of the year for Scotland in 2005. It's a cosy little pub I'd love to spend an afternoon in. Throughout August and early September, they're focusing on one brewer each week as part of a "Scottish Cask Ale Showcase". This is a great idea, offering a full range from one brewer in the heart of the nation's capital. On our visit, four ales were on offer from An Teallach, a tiny five barrel brewery operated by a husband and wife team. The couple operate from a croft in the Highlands. The dark An Teallach Ale won plaudits from one of our party, and the Crofters Pale Ale was certainly palatable. Information: - The Halfway House is at 24 Fleshmarket Close, EH1 1BX (Tel: 0131 225 7101, website, map).
- An Teallach don't seem to have a website despite being in operation for five years. Contact details and a photo of the brewery are on Quaffale.
Man dressed as a large cock and balls   This one speaks for itself, really. Edinburgh is the British capital of stag and hen parties. Some lads get stitched up by their mates. This unlucky groom carried off his outfit well. As you can see, he enjoyed cosying up to our own stag. A weekend of 25 pints is enough to force even me onto the wagon for a few days. Hopefully I'll have recovered in time for the Pembury Tavern Beer Festival this weekend. . Ross will be there too, making the best of his last few weeks of freedom, before pubs and beer become distant memories.
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Stonch lives in London, where he runs a pub.
Last night we visited the excellent Mager brewery guesthouse in Pottenstein (town pictured right). The dunkel - served under air pressure without extra CO2 - was world class. The town itself was dead, so after dinner we repaired to the local dive. Andy was welcomed as a returning hero by the locals who hadn't left their stools since his last visit a year ago.
We enjoyed the company of a local policeman, who drank a cocktail of beer, cola and kirch from a litre stein. We weren't able to avoid his offer to share. The beer of choice was a dunkel landbier, served from bottles that gave out the most pronounced pop when opened by Ziggy, our Saxon host. Near the end of the night, the policeman switched to water so he could drive home. He probably wouldn't have bothered, but for the watchful gaze of his old mum, who sat puffing ciggies at the bar.
