420W (3. journal): The Pub Experience

At this time, half part of my stay in Vancouver is passed, and I already underwent a lot of impressive experiences. My visit in an Irish pub in downtown was one of these adventures, abounding in sensory input. With the lovely draft of the furnishing and further details such as pictures on the walls, the typical Irish Pub in its dark wooden outfit leads to a comfortable atmosphere. That evening, a musician was playing some pop and classic songs with an acoustic guitar on a small stage. I went to the bar, where a colourful row of appealing beer taps were placed, to order a pint of Guinness. The barkeeper started to fill up the glass with that perfectly black liquid and stopped when the pint was about two thirds filled. This break is mandatory, because it's the time while the black stuff is calming down, the cause of a perfect final head of the beer. Meanwhile, the customer can pay for the beer. After this short rest, my glas was filled up completely, whereby the amazing spectacle, generally occurring before drinking Guinness, begun. The ale looked creamy brown and was streaked by countless wispy waves. These soft currents moved up to the top of the pint and ended in the ivory head. Following to the brown spectacle, the darkest possible black colour imbued the bottom of the glass and seemed to crowd the creamy brown currents upwards. Finally, the black colour had conquered the whole pint and bordered sharply on the foamy head. This up to two minutes lasting spectacle worked like an appetizer, at the same time, it had a relaxing effect on me as well. It was really amazing to enjoy this paradox patterns before tasting the ale. After that, the first contact with the beer took place by touching the light head of the ale with my lips. The white or slightly yellow head, a compact but soft foam, felt more creamy than the best imaginable cappuccino's head. After this first contact, expectably, the smooth liquid bewitched my senses of taste and smell. The taste of roasted barley that ascended to my nose was attended by a light flavour of hops, and a soft notification of bitterness on my tongue. The smooth but characterful ale and the nostalgic ambiance also made me feel strong emotions and longing memories in such a way that a cold shiver ran down my back, while I was drinking the first two gulps. All in all, it was a marvelous experience, and the commercial slogan on the old sheet of iron at the wall in front of me seemed to be scrupulously correct: "A lovely day for a Guinness".