I'm off out tonight. No great surprise there, I hear you shriek; it is Friday after all. Ah, yes, but tonight I'm not going to one, several or all of the four (count 'em) pubs that lie within 400 yards of my front door. The missus and I are off to meet friends at a microbrewery under a railway arch in the east end. Had I told you that ten years ago, you'd have been quite within your rights to have me sectioned under the mental health act.
Not now though. Microbrewerage, former shitholes in east London postcodes and even railway arches, I dare say, are now uber-cool. Craft beer is all the rage in London. Craft beer is simply real ale for the most part plus marketing. Luckily the railway this gaff is under gets Mrs O and I home in a matter of minutes. So it's a win:win pour nous.
Toot toot, dude!
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