I’ve been very eager to get Axel involved in this project from the start as we got into all sorts of mischief together. This is his hazy recollection of a night of bad beer.
– Tom @ indieroad.
This story of mine contains a very poisonous liquid called alcohol and some other disturbing things like antisocial behaviour and of course Tom.
So this evening I’m going to write about what happened in my beloved Dunedin… a place which left a heavy bunch of damn good memories. I was invited to join my good friend Tom on a brewery tour with a bunch of other people (namely some friends and some random hostel dudes), and since I hadn’t any plans at all for the evening it seemed to be a good idea to spend some time with them, even though I already knew that the ‘so called beer’ (sorry Speights) wouldn’t convince me. As you can imagine, coming from Bavaria, I’m a god damn bavarian beer snob, so I don’t trust any beer at all which is brewed outside the sacred borders of Bavaria. But that didn’t really matter because it was about alcohol and friends, so we started the tour and soaked up a lot of information about brew… well… no, we didn’t; everyone was just waiting for the magical moment, when they would leave us alone with all the beer on tap… for half an hour. HALF AN HOUR. We decided to make the best out of it and build a wandering circle around the bar so everyone could tap their beer and drink it while walking around the bar to tap another beer to drink while walking back to tap another beer and continue the cycle. We drank a lot. At some point it was just easier to stop counting.
I think at some point everybody just left and only our group remained… until our tour guide gently told us it was time to leave. The night was still young and everyone was keen to keep on drinking, so we decided to spend the rest of the evening in Tom’s hostel. A bonus was that some random dude from the hostel offered some tequila for everyone to share. After some searching for salt and lemons we started to drink the really cheap and awful liquid (but hey… free alcohol – who ever complained about free alcohol?). At some point we were quite drunk and the tequila-donor claimed that he had to get some sleep… at 10 pm (which was very pathetic and disappointing but he was a little douche so no one really cared) and we asked him to take his bottle away with him a few times but he insisted that he left it in the kitchen. So… there is no need to imagine what happened next… we continued drinking the free alcohol and at the end of this lovely evening when just a sad sip was left in the bottle, I decided to stumble back to my hostel. Some days later I walked the same way back during daytime and couldn’t remember a thing about my drunken journey, or that I had ever walked that way before.
Needless to say, the following day, the tequila donor was a bit upset, but I guess he had to learn the hard way that a hostel kitchen is a mysterious place with strange lifeforms, smells and happenings. So never, ever leave food or especially alcohol behind because some disgusting night-ghouls (namely us) will appear at some point and take/eat/spoil all ‘your’ belongings. This is a danger zone. You never know what will happen next… so take care, stay safe and TAKE YOUR ALCOHOL WITH YOU, ESPECIALLY WHEN PEOPLE ASK YOU TO DO IT!
P.S. I have no regrets… not on this day or any other.
– Axel, future owner of a bar called “Wisdom’s End” and guest blogger.
I actually have a few things I wish to contribute to this before we put it to rest.
Firstly, beer laps are a wonderful thing and when they appear at the Olympics I will be going for the gold medal (not Speights gold medal ale though). The trick to succeeding is figuring out how to drink while walking simultaneously without spilling any of the sacred liquid down you (because anybody who wastes alcohol is just not a good person). I managed to count fourteen glasses before I gave up, and then of course there was more, and in the space of twenty minutes and at five in the afternoon, this is rather a lot to take in. I even tried the mid-strength (never again). I remember thinking I wasn’t feeling too good, excusing myself to go to the bathroom and instead of regurgitating my dinner, I just burped really really loudly and let all the gas back into the atmosphere. After that I felt almost sober again and rather fantastic. I don’t think I ever want to drink so much beer in such a short time ever again.
I cannot remember how to brew beer.
We then sat in a pub and had a civilised conversation while tequila-donor douchebag commented on girl’s bottoms as they walked past and we ignored him. After that we went back to the hostel and, well, drank beer and tequila. Since then, Axel and I have had many a sober night (and a couple of not so sober ones) and I’m lucky enough to call him a very close friend of mine, and I’m sure he will endeavour to be an asset to our misguided community of backpackers at indieroad. I imagine at some point there will be a very long post where we confess to all of our sins for your entertainment.
– Tom @ indieroad.