It'd be a lie to say he welcomed the sound of the alarm at such an ungodly Saturday morning hour with joy, he didn't – unless a hybrid between a long moan and grunt can be considered an expression of joy in some cultures. This is not to say that he minded getting up so early. He had been looking forward to that day for weeks already. He and his mate were finally going to make it to that new craft brewery everybody was raving about. He didn't even mind that it was such a hassle to get to the place: a slow train, then a bus, then a couple of kilometres walking. He reckoned it'd be all part of he fun, part of the experience, part of what made that brewery so special – being in the middle of nowhere, where only the most devoted would bother to go; or so he wanted to believe That tiny craft brewery had opened a couple of months before, without announcing it anywhere. There was only a FB page with just the crude logo of the brewery, an address, the opening hours and noth...
An exploration of the most divine beverage