Pivní Filosof - Beer Philosopher

I've just had an idea, partly inspired by Ron Pattinson and his call to publishers , I've got several stories going around in my head: cider in the Czech Republic,  a critical view of České Ejly,  resurrected breweries. There must be about two dozen of them right now. It's a phenomenon you don't see in many other countries with a potential for series of interesting stories, maybe even a book, a series of in depth and very personal interviews with old Czech Master Brewers, Brno, which according to some voices, might be an even more interesting beer destination than Prague itself.  I know I can write all those stories, and that I can write them well. The thing is, though, that I don't want to do it for free. These will not be the sort of piss taking I've been mostly doing lately, they will be serious journalism (or as serious as beer writing can get). Some of them at least will require traveling, meeting and talking to some people at length, plus quite a

When I found out that there is one bus line, 183, that goes between Jihoměstský Pivovar and Pivovar Hostivař I decided that I would visit both brewpubs in one go. The original plan was to go first to Hostivař, as it is a lot less hassle to go back to the centre from Háje. But I was in I.P. Pavlova at around lunch time, starving and my stomach was in no mood for what could easily be a half hour trip. Metro to Háje and lunch at Jihoměstský was the new plan. In retrospective, that may have been the first mistake. Had I stuck to my original plan, things wouldn't have turned out the way they did. But I had no way of knowing it at the time. Anyway, I got to Jihoměstský pivovar feeling I could eat a horse. I really like walking into that brewpub; you go through a long, dimly lit, corridor that takes you to an almost cavernous space with the brewhouse on one end and the bar on the other, and between them, mostly long tables with benches, and I love long tables with benches. It w

I was 9 the summer my mother had to be taken to hospital. She hadn't been feeling well pretty much since the end of the school year, but she refused to go to the doctor, saying that all she needed was a bit of rest, and that she'll be better after the holidays. She was wrong. The doctors didn't know how long they'd have to keep her there. It all depended on how well she recovered from the surgery, they said. That didn't seem to worry my mum as much as about who would be looking after me while she was gone. My dad had just begun an important project at work and wasn't able to take any days off, My mother's parents were abroad, visiting my uncle, and they wouldn't be back for another week or so. (Later I learned that my dad didn't even give them the news. The doctors had assured him it was a routine procedure, and that she'd be fine, and my dad didn't want to worry his in-laws unnecessarily during their time with their son). Sending me to a

I have a few interesting posts already drafted in my head. Good stuff, really: back to the roots reviews of four brewpubs, a bit of beer fiction, and some musings on the Czech microbrewing boom. There is also that new installment for the Unbearable Nonsense of Craft Beer, and I wanted to slowly start working a new edition of "The Pisshead's Pub Guide". Beautiful stuff that I'm sure you would love reading. But you'll have to wait. Suddenly I have a fuckton of work - a translation of the financial report and annual report of a rather large company, a translation of part of the Czech construction law, and project for Czech Tourism. All of it with rather tight deadlines. I'm not complaining. It's work that, unlike what I do here, it's paid, and rather well paid work at that. So, stay tuned. As soon as I get rid of all that work, and manage to get my brains to speak a normal language again (fuck those accountants, really), I will resume my activities