Hotel Purkmistr — a beer festival. Beyond Plzen. A courtyard in the sun. The smell of roasting meat. Would you like a beer? Of course I would. Hold on though, this is the Czech Republic: 10˚ or 12˚ or even more but what about an India Pale Ale? What about Samurai IPA or the IPA from Klasterni Pivovar in Prague? I don’t mind if I do. Ferocious bittering rates bite but there is still a softness that mitigates the surge — am I in the UK or the US? And then I think of the lyrics that ran like wild horses through my youth from the Sex Pistols’ Anarchy in the UK: Is this the MPLA/Or is this the UDA/Or is the IRA/I thought it was the IPA… Punk IPA
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