Brad Pitt­ and Bedford

Barberstown Castle in the picturesque Irish county of Kildare is now an impressive restaurant run with some skill by proprietor Ken Healy. It has had a number of famous and distinguished owners during the last 900 years, from Norman conquerors to rock superstar Eric Clapton. Recently after dining, the beloved one and her mother were discussing her sisters and their respective other halves: "How's the builder (the middle sister's husband) doing?" "Oh, he is in the Bahamas. His apartment/leisure centre complex in Dublin has sold really well." "And my younger sister's?" "He has just agreed to play the part of a Greek general in the new Troy blockbuster movie. He is to fly out to Mexico next Thursday for eight weeks to begin filming with Brad Pitt." "And how is Phil?" "Oh, he is really, really excited. He has been asked to speak at the Charles Wells brewery." I know when the others find out there will be pangs of jealousy, but they'll get over it. As I would be representing the British Institute of Innkeeping on the aforesaid occasion, I thought I had better be on my best behaviour, so I dug out the old National Licensed Victuallers' Association's code of conduct on visiting family brewers. 1. In the car park, just because 14 places all have the same surname, do not presume they are not all used. 2. Don't tread on any of the directors' dogs. 3. Say complimentary things about the linoleum. 4. Point out that nepotism was a crucial factor in Steptoe and Son's success. 5. If the subject of fashion is raised, confirm that you have heard three-piece, tweed suits in green are back in fashion this year. Was I in for a shock in Bedford. There before my eyes was the fantastic, futuristic, new Eagle Training Centre. It is a state-of-the-art affair including, would you believe it, air-conditioning. I always thought that the nearest a family brewer came to air-con was the wind off the Thames at high tide at Fuller's ­ although I have to confirm a rumour that it too has air-con in select places. Sam Smith acknowledges it had a more traditional method: "We oopen winder." In Charles Wells' terms, no one could fail to be impressed by this superb investment. As I stood waffling on to the assembled licensees, I could not help thinking how marvellous it all was for them, having seen fellow licensees and their pubs sold on and on with other companies constantly speculating about ceasing brewing. Here was the Wells family making such a positive statement to its tenants: "We have been here since the 19th century and are determined to be here in the next." It got even better afterwards, as there was the chance to sample the company's fine array of wines. Whilst having a pleasant conservation with Tom Wells, I complimented a rather nice Antipodean Sauvignon Blanc. Tom took a measure, gave it a good nose, gargled, gurgled and then did an impression of the new Dyson dual-action washing machine before depositing the wine in a nearby spittoon. I was culturally intimidated, but thought I had not survived four separate motorways to get here just to waste it. I was still mulling over the subject when I arrived back at BII headquarters in Camberley, Surrey. As I entered the membership department, I said: "Ladies, how can you really appreciate the aftertaste without swallowing, and only spitting it out?" Well, I was staggered by the array of blushes and giggles that greeted such an innocent question on wine tasting! Yogi Bear on the Reeperbahn The recent heatwave was, of course, excellent for pub wet sales ­ though it was pretty uncomfortable for employees. In France, some organisations on really hot days gave their staff the time off. However, I heard a horror story of an entire firm's workforce being made to work overtime on the then hottest day of the year. This was in a building devoid of proper ventilation and then they were made to stay the night on the premises with three persons forced to sleep/share a small space. The perpetrator of this heinous act? Jeremy Main, the managing director of Holsten UK. He took the entire company on a "back-to-basics, bonding, Baden Powellesque" camping experience in the New Forest. Apparently, it was a great success. Certainly, the Holsten employees I met the day after (in Germany) were very positive about the event. The only problem encountered occurred when we were venturing into that risqué area of Hamburg, ie, the Reeperbahn. The ambience of this cutting edge of Western European erotica was somewhat diluted by the spontaneous singing of "I am the Music Man", "Yogi Bear" and other campfire songs by the Holsten staff. In the 20, or so, years that I have dealt with Holsten UK, I have always been slightly astonished by the complete failure of 98% of its representatives to speak German to any sort of above-basic level. Our mixed party made its way to a "table dancing" bar. Phil D'Arcy, our host, entered into a discussion with a large male dancer in a nautical costume. "Guten abend mein Herr, vud it be possible for you to dance on zee table for zee ladies over zere, bitte?" Phil enquired. "Ah lad, no problem, by the way, I'm from Sheffield," came the reply. After a few minutes, I was left with the impression that nice girls really do love a sailor! New Forest Licensing I actually managed to visit the New Forest a couple of months ago to address a meeting of the recently-formed New Forest LVA There was much wailing over the ending of Heineken lager in the English-brewed version. Now I have never been a great fan of low alcohol beers, but I have to confess to certain amazement that the product was being genuinely missed. What was interesting about the meeting was the discussion on what future the LVA had once the need for annual extensions and three-year licences has ended. The vital role for local licensee associations should be in the new relationship with the local authority. Those LVAs that have yet to recognise the need to adapt and change post-licensing law reform should do so quickly or disappear! phildixoncmbii@aol.com