Alcohol has flowed bountiful through pitchers and pipes and pint glasses since the dawn of average looking men trying to entice above average looking women to sleep with them. It provokes all manner of songs and crashes and fights and embraces. It is the lifeblood of social gathering. Men and women flock to the bars for the communal celebration of their triumphs and the assuagement of their disappointments. Ideas are shared, disputes are settled. While the living goes on outside, here is where it gets recognized and recorded (and often just as quickly forgotten).
Andrew, Charlie, Corey, Krystian and I will be in Europe for scant 3 weeks. In this time, we face the challenge of every tourist: the enormous task of understanding and reorienting oneself to a culture that is hostile to one's own provincial schema - all in a laughably short window of time. Does the Eiffel Tower tell me anything about what it means to be a Parisian? Does a tour of Buckingham palace teach me about any Londoner (God) save the queen? Not to belittle these experiences, but from my point of interest, probably not.
In this blog, we'll seek out the local liquor in each region in which we stay and attempt to give a brief history. A nation's identity can be revealed through it's drink of choice, and how it is consumed: the comforting warmth of a Scotch highland whiskey, the easy decadence of a glass of French wine, the carefree belligerence of an American kegstand. We'll find the neighborhood bars, drink with the yokels, swap some stories, share some yucks, and try to sell Charlie for bread money.
So, a toast to our followers: may you always drink well, and never drink alone.