Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

(Image found at ( http://www.bbc.co.uk/norfolk/content/images/2009/01/09/dragon_fest_span_203x152.jpg )

Sunday at the Norfolk Beer Festival at Dragon Hall was much better than I expected it to be. Saturday night was just as packed as Friday night, and those two days drained the beer supply that had been purchased for the festival. Thankfully, there were bottled beers, two types of cider, and someone was able to grab two casks of beer from a local brewer for Sunday. No one expected Sunday to be a big day either, and it turned out to very well be an easy going day. There was only an afternoon session and it worked out very well.

        I was surprised because no one seemed extremely upset that there was almost no selection in beer there. At the door the prices were altered and costumers were made aware that the festival was basically out of alcohol, so everyone was well aware of the situation before purchasing admission into Dragon Hall. However, this did not stop a good number of people from showing up. Sunday afternoon welcomed the same amount of visitors that Saturday afternoon had. The bottled beer sold well, one of the cider casks was completely consumed, and both the new casks of beer were drunk by the end of the day.

            Looking back on my experience at Dragon Hall and my time volunteering at the Norwich and Norfolk Beer festival, I’ve come to realize that I could not have chosen a better place to do my mandatory volunteer/internship hours. This experience opened the eyes of an American boy who used to prefer a cold Fosters to warm local ale. I tried so many different types of local beers, all tasting different with unique qualities in colour and texture. My favourite would have been one of the Fat Cat’s contributions called the Cat & Canary. It was light and refreshing, with a fruity taste.

            At the end of my time there, I remembered something that another volunteer, Dodge, had mentioned to us before we started working on Friday. He reminded us that we should have fun, that the whole point of this festival was to have fun, try some new and interesting beers, and help others try them as well. Of course, the whole “have fun” part is something that you hear wherever you may be putting in effort to get something done, whether or not in reality it has any chance of being fun. I’ve heard it before starting a summer of sailing lessons with a bunch of bratty 11 year old girls (…not fun). But now I realize that Dodge meant that, and that it was possible. I spent a weekend serving delicious beer to interesting people, working alongside other knowledgeable and friendly volunteers, learning a lot about what kinds of tastes I like in a beer, and enjoying the beers myself. Not once were any of us volunteers without a glass at least half way full. This was actually encouraged, we were supposed to know the beers, we could only help customers with their decisions if we had made our own. I did have trouble describing the differences, beyond the colour of the beer, to costumers, but I was reassured that this skill will come in time, and for now I should just learn as much as I can. So that’s what I did, I drank beer and learned (probably the only place in the world where the words “beer” and “learned” accurately can describe an experience).

            After working on Sunday, I went out with some of the volunteers and some of the men playing in the band. We walked to a pub that was having another beer festival that weekend. I am only mentioning this to show how my relationship with the other members of the team developed throughout the weekend. By the time I was in the pub Sunday evening I was talking about where I was getting advice about where I should visit in Europe and how to handle life after college. Many of the other volunteers became my friends because of how close and well we all worked together. They all said that I need to do the Norwich Beer Festival held at St. Andrew’s Hall, but unfortunately I had to tell them that I was not going to be around for it.

            So I have this one last thing to say: If you have been to a beer festival, you should try working at one. You meet the best people on both sides of the bar, you get to drink amazing beers for free, and you learn so much about what makes beers special.

Date: 31 April 2011
Time: 11:30-16:30
Total Hours: 27

Location: Dragon Hall
Supervisor: Rachel M.

After volunteering at Dragon Hall on Friday night, I believed I was equipped with what I needed to know for Saturday. Unlike Friday, when I had to stay from 5 o’clock to midnight for preparation, the evening session (the only session on Friday), and clean up, Saturday was going to be a lot longer though. I had to be there at 11:30 in the morning and I wouldn’t be let out until midnight that night. There were both and afternoon and evening session this day. Also, the work I did was a lot different than the work I did on Friday night.

            I was placed at one of the two bars. I would have to dispense the beer from the casks and collect the tokens from the costumers. Although this may seem easy, and although it proved to be less difficult than I worried it would be, at the beginning I was very worried. All of the volunteers that were working with me that afternoon had done this work the night before and I was very nervous about messing up. However, there were some things that made my life easier behind the bar.

            Firstly, all the glasses were marked. Along with the image and logo of Dragon Hall, there were measurement marks for a third of a pint, a half a pint, and a full pint. The committee that ran the festival had decided before that a third of a pint should not be sold, so that mark was irrelevant. But it is extremely important to pour the correct amount of beer into your costumer’s glass. I was warned many times that there is a committee that goes to pubs and beer festivals to make sure that the pouring was accurate and that the buyer was getting what he paid for. With the marks this was something that should not have made me worry, but I poured a little past the lines every time just to assure myself that I wasn’t going to rip anyone off. Secondly, all the beers were sold at intervals of 20p. Each token was worth 20p as well. On the casks there were labels with the names of the beer, the brewery that created it, the alcohol content, and the price and token amount for either a half or full pint. All I had to do was look at the token amount and ask for it, not having to deal with money or change. Thirdly, at the bar I was working at, there were two experienced beer festival volunteers who made sure everything was working smoothly. I made one mistake that thankfully was not a major issue, but it could have been.

            The beers being served at these CAMRA festivals all have sediment that lies at the bottom of the cask. That means that after the cask is transported or put into its location at the bar the cask must rest for a certain amount of time in order to let the sediments settle back down under the liquid. This also means that after tipping a cask, which is what you do when the beer is running low and you need to heighten the rear of the cask to increase the flow of liquid to the nozzle in the front, you have to be extremely careful. Only experienced people were able to touch these casks in order to tip them because the adjustments had to be done slowly and accurately. Sudden movements could shake the sediments afloat. The cask would then have to sit, possibly for hours, before the beer was ready to serve again. So at a festival, where beer is needed and needed fast, this would be a terrible problem. I did almost cause this to happen when I was trying to be helpful. One of the experienced volunteers, Andrea, was tipping a cask that was running low, and I decided that she needed a hand, so I started to push the rear of the cask upwards. I was quickly scorned and I let go, and she had a tight enough grip on the cask to make sure that it didn’t fall back down when I let go. I never touched the cask again, except for the nozzle, which I was allowed to touch. Although I was yelled at for my mistake, the group of volunteers behind the bar was supportive. There were some volunteers my age, and a couple older volunteers. As long as we listened to what the older, usually more knowledgeable, ones ordered and as long as we were productive and putting in effort, us “virgins” (as we were called once early on Friday because of our lack of experience working at beer festivals) were treated respectfully, and eventually even friendly.

            The festival as a whole ran into problems by the end of the afternoon, before the night session. We were actually running out of beer. No one had expected Friday night to be such a success and the men and women who organized the event did not order enough beer from the breweries. By the early hours of the night session we had to cross off beers on the beer menu that was offered to costumers. One by one the beers dropped off and the selection began to dwindle. My bar literally sold out of beer Saturday night and had to resort to selling the few options of bottled beer that were available. These bottled beers were from the same breweries that provided the casks of beer but we far less popular because they were more expensive and they had an altered taste because of their packaging. A lot of costumers were very disappointed and I was sympathetic to them. They came to a beer festival expecting abundance of beer to choose from, to taste, to consider, and to discover, but for those who came later on in the evening that was impossible to do. I felt horrible turning people away because we didn’t have any of the beer they were interested in having. It wasn’t like I had a choice though.

            There was a little bit more cleaning up to do Saturday night than there was on Friday. I had to remove the trays that were placed on the floor directly under the nozzles. These were meant to collect all the drippings from the casks. I collected random glasses that were left around and placed them by the sink in the kitchen. After this long but successful day at Dragon Hall, I was able to catch the bus home.

(Image found at http://www.bbc.co.uk/norfolk/your/a-z_norfolk/images/dragonhall.jpg)

Date: 30 April 2011
Time: 11:00-24:00
Total Hours: 20
Location: Dragon Hall
Supervisor: Rachel M.

(Image found at http://www.creativesponge.co.uk/images/branding_5.jpg )

I fulfilled my volunteer/internship hours at the Norfolk Beer Festival held at Dragon Hall last weekend. This event was sponsored by the Campaign for Real Ale, or CAMRA. This is an organization that, based on all I witnessed during my time as a volunteer, supports the local breweries. It is a national organization spread throughout the United Kingdom. The Norwich and Norfolk branch of CAMRA puts on beer festivals, holds tastings, and publishes Nips, a magazine that contains reviews, calendars displaying scheduled events, opinion pages, and many other types of articles that describe the up-to-date happenings in the local beer world of Norwich and Norfolk. It pays to be a member, as discounts are offered at various events to people holding the CAMRA membership card. (Norwich & Norfolk CAMRA’s website: http://www.norwichcamra.org.uk/ )

            Friday was my first day as a volunteer. I arrived at 5 o’clock in the late afternoon at Dragon Hall. The students on the Dickinson program have all seen it before because of the walking tour we were assigned. This was one of the locations that someone had to explain the significance of. It is located across the river from the movie theatre near the train station. It’s only a five to ten minute walk from the train station when getting off the 25 or 35 bus. Dragon Hall is a fifteenth century building that has been used as a venue for commercial, social, and domestic purposes. However, this weekend it hosted the beer festival as a fundraiser to maintain the building and its historic merit.

            After arriving on Friday, I was herded up stairs to the big hall. There were two bars lined with casks (I learned never ever, ever, to call them kegs), two shelves high. The festival itself was scheduled to start at 6, so the hour between was used to divvy up the jobs that the volunteers were going to be doing. The older volunteers, the CAMRA members, and the more confident of the volunteers were given the tasks upstairs where the bars and beer were located. I myself volunteered to go downstairs, to the door and help with the till (cash register). Before the night started, all the volunteers were given food vouchers, because food was being provided by a catering service downstairs, and a pint glass, which could be filled with beer.

            That night I worked at the first table that the costumers came to. I was working with an old man who volunteers regularly at Dragon Hall and is also a well-educated-in-beer CAMRA member. Sean Nam was there too, working alongside me and this old man, named Mark I believe. Initially, Sean and I worked on passing out glasses, along with £2 worth of tokens (which were actually raffle tickets) to the men and women coming in. These tokens would be put into the glasses that the arriving costumers would receive after paying an admission fee of £5 or £4 for CAMRA members. At a table located across the room, more tokens would be available for purchase. The initial £2 worth of tokens could buy a half pint of beer. Friday night turned out to be a lot busier than expected, so Sean and I were constantly opening new boxes of pint glasses and putting tokens inside of the glasses. When Mark left to get food, he left me in control of the till. I did one transaction that had to be voided, but soon I got the hang of it. I’m glad that I didn’t work upstairs with the beer Friday night because working down at the front door helped boost my confidence, relax in this new environment, and get comfortable with the beer festival vibe. I’d never been to a beer festival before, let alone worked at one.

            The people coming into the beer festival seemed to all belong to different crowds. There were the older people, usually coming together as spouses or pairs of spouses. The CAMRA members were usually these people, which I was not surprised about. Mark would continually jest with the older people who showed their membership cards, either knowing them or pretending to know them. I was surprised at how many young people came though. Lots of the attendees looked to be about my age or a little older. There was a policy set in place that nobody under the age of 18 should be allowed in, but everyone seemed of age. These younger people, the ones that could have been my 21 or older, were extremely friendly and I was able to joke with them.

            I worked the door until it was time to leave around midnight. The last call was sometime before 11, I believe it was around 10:45. People started to file out soon after that, everyone seeming very happy with what they had experienced that night, saying goodbye and thank you. I felt as if I had done a good job that night, no big mistakes had been made, and by the end I had adjusted to the venue and the crowd. It was a very good night.

Date: 29 April 2011
Time: 17:00-24:00
Total Hours: 7
Location: Dragon Hall
Supervisor: Rachel M.

A word of warning to all of those people who wish to do experiential learning whilst in Norwich – start early.  Like many of the other people in Dickinson Humanities 310, I have been having an issue with organizations responding to me, let along promptly responding.  So, with the clock ticking ominously in my ears, it was time to get a little bit creative.  Instead of volunteering my time and free labor to the local festivals of Norwich and Norfolk like I was counting on (honestly, who doesn’t like fifteen-plus hours of free paper pushing, stuffing envelopes, and filing?), I had to think a bit further outside of the box.  So far outside that it has pushed me into pubs… darn.

One of the festivals I am looking at for the research portion of the paper is the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) Norwich Beer Festival.  According to their website, this organization and festival promote “good-quality cask conditioned beers (commonly referred to as ‘real ale’), allied to traditional Brisith breweries and pubs.”   However, what really caught my eye was their goal to support local pubs that serve not only real ale, but also invoke a sense of community. 

Last night, I ventured out of my cosy flat and wandered the wet streets of Norwich.  I had four main questions that I wanted to answer; 1) Does this pub serve real ales, as defined by CAMRA?  2) What imported beers/ales does this pub serve?  3) How traditional is the pub in decor?  4) What atmosphere does this pub give off?  The three pubs I visited last night answered these questions very differently.

My first stop yesterday evening was to the Mischief Tavern.  Of the three pubs I went to, this one was the most traditional.  There were lit open fireplaces, a well-worn hard wooden floor, crooked staircases, and even a beautiful pressed tin roof with exposed roof timber beams running through it.  It was spacious, yet cozy, with both large and small tables that added to the comfortable sense of community.  Although there were a number of loud Americans running and dancing around the place, locals of all ages were enjoying a nice drink.

 This pub served real ales, and even had a couple of signs promoting it, but you had to look carefully in order to see them.  Much more obvious were the colorful and flashy logos of Budweiser, Heineken, and Tiger. 

The second pub I went to was Delaney’s Irish Pub.  Now, I know it seems slightly odd that in my quest for a traditional English pub serving traditional English ales, I went to an Irish pub.  However, in my defense, other than a couple of Irish proverbs on the walls and the fact that they sold Guinness and Jameson, there was nothing remotely Irish about it.  (In fact, I might even go so far as to say it was one of the least-Irish Irish pubs I have ever been to.  I am slightly confused as to what exactly “Irish Tapas” is…)  They did not sell any real ales and focused mainly on imports of Guinness, Fosters, and the like. 

 The pub did, however, have an odd sense of community about it.  They had pictures of people who had been there previously taped to the underside of the staircase and giant games of Connect-Four and Jenga for patrons to play with.  There were seperate high tables that could fit four or five chairs around them at most scattered just far enough away from each other to give the illusion of privacy, but still with the ability to draw another table into conversation.

The third and final pub from last night was the Belgian Monk.  The Monk is more high-end, with imported fruity beers and a wonderful sit-down restaurant.  The decor in the Monk includes posters in German, a library, and small tables with which to sip a frothy concoction of your choice.  A large portion of the indoor tables are taken up by the restaurant, as opposed to the pub, and tend to attract a clientele that has a bit more money than your average college student.

  The Belgian Monk is most certainly not a traditional English pub.  Much like with the Irish pub, it might seem slightly odd that I am including it at all in my blog post.  My reasoning is simple – all of the pubs I visited fill a niche in Norwich. The Belgian Monk is a restaurant, Delaney’s is an Irish pub, and the Mischief is a more traditional English pub.  I know that from three pubs, I can’t conclude anything about CAMRA’s presence in Norwich.  However, my next time out, I hope to come across more of the traditional English pubs in Norwich that CAMRA rightfully brags about.

Total time – 4 hours

You can tell our time is London is winding down by the mass influx of required posts; it would seem pubs is the one people have been holding off on the most.  I feel bad as I continue to bring up Kate Fox’s book Watching the English, as we are going to be reading it soon anyway, but I think that attests to what a good choice it was for reading.  She is one of the few anthropologists I would actually read out of enjoyment rather than the pursuit of knowledge (No one really wants to read Jared Diamond, the man is drier than a desert).  What’s nice is that she is both an insider and an outsider; I mean by this that she has the privilege to make frank comments about the British without offending anyone, yet she has the background of an ethnographer. Anyway, that long rabble was just an explanation of the biases I came into the pub scene having.

A common theme with all British life is knowing one’s place; this applies to class, cross walks, but more importantly ques. The greatest offense one can do at a pub is getting in the way of a person and his cellar-temperature beer. There is in fact a distinct social script depending on where you go. For the most part, in the more upscale pubs, there is simply an unwritten code where you wait your bloody turn. However, in the younger and louder pub, one must take a more aggressive approach, which is equally acceptable: a person shows up to the bar, checks out who is leaning into the counter the furthest and then leans according to his placement, gradually marking his territory with a further lean-in as it gets closer to his turn. Both more classier and collegy pubs follow the same script if two people believe they have arrived at the same time. The British have an interesting way of complimenting people, where they play down themselves so as to gain a compliment from the other person, who in turn plays the same game.  It is similar in a pub scenario: two people will go back and forth as to who was truly there first until one of them admits defeat and accepts the first drink. For the most part bartenders seem to be more bored by this then anything. Surely they will call a wanker out if he’s jumped the que, but for the most part they are looking for the most efficient way to serve alcohol to people. Which brings me to the next biggest faux-pas: buying drinks separately. It doesn’t matter where you go, if you’re in a group buy those drinks together (especially if a friend like Baron is paying).  What I do enjoy is the concept of tipping– i.e there is none even if you eat food there. Similar to in American, it seen as a very nice gesture to buy the bartender a drink; in order to do that you say “and one for yourself.”

One of the greatest things I have ever come across in my life(next to pasties) is the great equalizing nature of the pouring system in this country. More than anything i think this speaks for the true nature of the British. When you order a shot in America, the bartender will eye it and guesstimate. Normally it comes out correct, but sometimes you get a little more/little less. In Britain, people don’t really care about getting more, they just want to get exactly what they paid for, exactly what they feel they deserve. They don’t look to cheat the system by complaining about the amount of beer– you paid for 330 ml, that’s what you get. That is beauty.

There is a common conception that I’m going to have to slightly disagree with: pubs are indeed an area where the British let go of their reserve more than other places. However, beyond a football match, the patrons seem to rarely interact beyond their bubble of friends that they came with to the pub. From what I have seen, within a pub there is very will in the way of co-mingling. There is a sort of comradery though, an invisible thread that binds all the patrons in a unified understanding of common purpose and intent, which is quite beautiful and harmonizing.  Going outside for some reason changes things quite a bit, and it may be because of the smoker’s-bond, but it is often there that you’d find people talking to people they hadn’t met before that night. This is of course shifting with the more youthful (dare I say Americanized?) pubs. As the more “authentic” patrons, such as the businessmen, the construction workers and the local drunks, are pushed out in favor of the more profitable groups, the pub scene changes. More and more you find pub owners who own six or seven cookie-cutter like pubs. So whereas in any other market, supply and demand would kill off many of these pubs, artificial inflation keeps them afloat. And yet as I say this, I have never seen an empty pub, except when it was closed. Further, historic pubs like those subsidized by CAMRA are slowly getting addicted to the tourist teet– as much of London is.  A valid point brought up in my tour was ‘why?’ Why keep these historic pubs afloat if they are simply becoming mausoleums for the glory days of British ale? Their answer, from what I’ve gathered is simply: because we are British. Even if they have become nothing more than relics to be gawked at, people still should pay their alms. Why do we keep these churches around when they could just as easily be turned into cafes, dance halls or web publishing companies(all of which I have seen here in England)? They retain cultural heritage, and people will do whatever it takes to maintain them. If you sell out, at least you can still think of days gone by, when the Viaduct wasn’t filled with loud Americans trying to get into the cellar for a photo.

Before I begin with the Orwell thing, I’d like to say I have been to a restaurant by the name of The Moon Under Water right off of Leicester Square Station, it paled in comparison to the fictitious one that Orwell describes. Rather than diving into the topic, I’d like to note how much I liked his use of stylistic shifts; the entire time he’s talking about the pub it is flowery and light, but he shifts to reality and with it shifts his style into one of  flat tones and matter-of-fact explanations.

As far as my favorite pubs, I hate to be so plain, but I honestly don’t care about the decorations at all. As long as they are relatively sanitary, the place can be as run down as it likes– adds character. The most important thing for me is cheap food and pitchers. Pitchers are a necessity.  If I want to drink and relax, I’ll go to the Aran House garden and drink some wine with my buddies. I go to pubs to socialize and be around other people who seem to be having a good time. Sure it’s neat to see pretty architecture and a neat history, but the history isn’t going to help me with my growling stomach and the pretty ceiling isn’t going to satisfy and thirst at all. I think that is why I am able to go back to the Court time and time again, even after my buddies are sick of it: beer and burger 4 quid. It doesn’t get much better than that. And you have that guy standing at the bar always laughing about something. The garish 80’s music and the rowdypool players just add to the experience. This may be simply from my personal drinking experience, but I don’t like the idea of drinking alone. This is why the pitcher is such a good idea, and quickly becoming a staple of the pub environment. While some may scoff at the idea of a pitcher, it is closer to a pubs original purpose than one might thinks. People, huddling around each other to stay warm, trying to get their caloric value in for the day with a pint of beer. If I had to pick out the best atmosphere of a pub, I’d say the Blackfriar, I really like the way it’s structure, giving a very intimate feeling to the patrons and enveloping you in the gorgious wood carvings. As far as bartenders go in a good versus great pub, it’s all about respect. You treat them with respect they treat you the same. As long as they get the drink right and don’t screw me on the change, nothing else really matters.

Of course, the Marlborough Arms will always have a place in my heart: it was my first after all. We have a close relationship with Justin, the food isn’t bad and they have some really good deals on spirits. It has a relaxed environment, and yet a lighter attitude then other pubs I have been to this month. But what is it that makes the Marlborough Arms a good pub and not a great one? I feel like it’s almost too static for me, but other then that I can’t figure out why we quickly left our first love in the dust of time.

I do pray I’ve sufficiently answered the prompt because I don’t know if I could bare to write much more for fear of being stoned later. But it is interesting as I look back that I have sort of chose the “dances with wolves” version of a pub: I want the British charm and nobility with the rowdiness and technology of an American bar.

Anyway, cheers