So, after some internet problems (updates this lunchtime have gone from
laptop to the world wide web via my mobile phone – mobile hot spotting!), we’ve
just about managed to stay online. Which is handy, as it’s the only way I can
justify my existence at the IT hot desk between Bar A and Bar B (if anyone
actually bothers reading these blogs on the day, please do come and say
hello!).
The Sussex Beer & Cider Festival has five separate
sessions over the Festival weekend: Thursday
evening (preceded by the two-hour trade session I revealed last night), Friday
lunch, Friday evening, Saturday lunch and Saturday evening. We close for two
hours between the day and evening sessions on Friday and Saturday, which gives
us a chance to clean up a wee bit, have a break and let our crack team of
cellarmen weave their magic. Perhaps as a result
of this approach, each of the five sessions has a distinct ambience all of its
own.
This session – Friday lunch from 11am until 3pm – is probably my personal favourite, both as a
paying punter (back in the day!) and as a volunteer. The crowd tends to be a
mixture of retired folk and people who have taken the day off to enjoy probably
the widest selection of beers. Most beers will have
reached condition, and only one or two are likely to have sold out on Thursday
night – this year, our first two sell-outs came within minutes of each other
around twenty-past-twelve mark: Thornbridge Jaipur IPA on Bar C (my opinion: a great beer, but one that’s usually quite widely
available) and Top-Notch Hop Festival from the Sussex Bar (brewed by a man in his garage in Haywards Heath,
I’m reliably informed – quite a feat to be selling as fast as one of the
acknowledged great British ales!).
Friday lunchtime also sees the greatest concentration of ‘tickers’
(or the slightly more modern version, ‘scoopers’). These renowned, but perhaps sometimes slightly eccentric, folk are the
backbone of any festival that takes itself seriously in trying to source
unusual or rare beers. For many of us (certainly for me), a beer festival is a
chance to try some different beers and perhaps to find one that’s particularly
nice and settle on that for a larger measure (although we serve three measures
at Hove – thirds, halves and pints – halves tend to be favoured by the
majority) or two. For a ticker/scooper, on the other hand, life is a relentless
pursuit of beers that have not yet been tasted (or ‘ticked’ or ‘scooped’ in the
relevant parlance). They will try to obtain a copy of the
beer list beforehand (to be fair, we do our best to help this by publishing our
list as soon as it’s finalised, and then tracking updates throughout) and will
often come to the Festival with a prepared plan of attack.
So, how does one identify a scooper? Well, some are just like you and
me, whilst others can be distinguished by their lever-arch folders of carefully
handwritten notes (seriously!), often bulging out of a well-worn supermarket
carrier bag, or by the bulky rucksack that the wearer is strangely reluctant to
take off, let alone entrust to the cloakroom. Don’t fear these people – after all, without their constant demands for
new beers, some beer festivals may be tempted to rest on their laurels and rely
on the same beer list year-in, year-out…
Enough about Friday lunchtime - what are the other sessions like? Well,
the trade session (invitation-only, strict door policy, not-what-you-know-but-who-you-know
etc) is a mixed bag of genuinely interested landlords and the odd (and yes, I
do mean odd) punter who’s sneaked in with the landlord of their local. It’s not
too difficult to spot the difference! Thursday evening starts off as a mixture of enthusiastic trade session attendees who’ve
stayed on and purchased tokens and local festival goers who are keen to try
ales with a good chance of having the widest selection (not all beers
necessarily reach condition by the start of the festival – last night, around
20 of the approx 240 beers weren’t ready for sale). With a few exceptions, people tend to be more sensible, restrained and
the crowd (if not the individuals within) starts to thin noticeably after
9.30pm. Sometimes, one or two particularly popular beers will sell out on
Thursday night – this can be a double-edged sword for the brewer as, although a
real vote of the beer’s popularity can be a source of pride, a beer that only
lasts for a single session is less likely to attract the votes required for the
Beer of the Festival.
Friday evening is the busiest session – although the
volume of punters allowed through the door is capped strictly at 1,000 for each
session (which we’ll tend to reach on at least one other session), Friday
evening sees a crowd of dedicated drinkers firing on all cylinders, arriving
early (we’ve seen people queuing before 4pm – an hour ahead of doors opening –
in previous years) and tending to stay until ‘time’ is called. As Friday
evening consistently sold out weeks in advance, we experimented last year by
holding back 100 tickets for sale on the door, a measure which proved so
popular we’ve repeated it for all sessions this year.As a volunteer, I often
say that Friday night is the best session to be working, not least because it
sometimes feels like we have more space behind the bar than the crowd has on
the other side!
Saturday lunchtime can change depending
on whether or not the Seagulls are at home (they are, and were last year too),
as that brings in football fans from both the Albion and often the visiting
team, all of whom leave around 1.30pm (along with a good proportion of our bar
volunteers, leaving those of remaining quite busy!). Much like Friday lunch,
the pace is slower than the weekend evening sessions, but with less ‘scoopers’
the crowd always seems a lot more laid back.
Saturday evening sees the band take the stage, so the session
can sometimes feel more like a gig than a beer festival in the Main Hall. The stage is the corner of the hall nearest the cider bar, and for this
reason (and because beer stocks tend to be running low by this point), the
cider and perry usually makes a late surge in sales. I always try to warn
people planning on only coming to this final fifth session not to pin their
hopes on trying a particular beer as, if it’s as good as they’re hoping, other
people will have doubtless snaffled it all at previous sessions!
Anyway, that’s it for now, and I’ll be back with something new for this
evening’s session.
(In all seriousness, I have a lot of respect for scoopers - and I hope
nobody takes offence at the above, which was intended to be light-hearted.
The website Scoopergen is an excellent source of information for beers, particularly when
travelling abroad).
A hand-written response from Doctor Bongo (https://www.facebook.com/DoctorBongoDarling):
ReplyDeleteSpotter Spot
You may think I've lost the plot
But I like to spotter spot
When a spotter I do see,
I grab my pen and book with glee
(Hope nobody's spotting me!)
Take a note and then encumber
The spotter with a unique number...
Then closer observe these creatures,
It's quite fun to list their features.
The little things are quite amusing
What colour pen are they using?
Is a rucksack on their back?
Do they have an anorak?
Are their notebooks ringed or bound?
What is it that they have found?
Watching trains or scooping beer,
Point them out and give a cheer
(c) Doctor Bongo
And excerpts from a discussion over dinner with Steve the Cellar Man:
ReplyDelete"I am not a ticker. I just need to know what every beer tastes like"
"I've even gone back to a beer I've really hated for another half-pint, just to work out what's wrong with it"
"I've out-scooped everyone down there; I serve the top scoopers their beer!"
By way of illustrating this, Steve told me that his annual totals were: 2011 - 3,675 beers; 2012 - 3,650 beers; and 2013 - 2,797 beers. This year, he's already averaging 8 different beers a day. Not that he has a spreadsheet or anything...! ;-)