“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.” J.R.R. Tolkien

Jet lag again ripped us from sleep in the early hours. Icy fresh air floated in the window and took the edge off the central heating. We persevered through the caffeine-free hours of purgatory and presented ourselves at the diner just after 7am. Being a Sunday we had an extra hour standing between us and the first pot of tea. Our second appearance at the breakfast table and our server had us locked in, teas and lattes appeared without us needing to order. Another massive breakfast was consumed and after a post breakfast nap and some ablutions we set off in an uber for East Van where we were to meet expat Wellingtonians Manaia and Nisha at Superflux Brewery where Manaia is working.
Our journey took us along Hastings Street in the Downtown East Side which is notorious for being a centre of homelessness and social ills. Block after block was inhabited by people living under cardboard boxes. Piles of rubbish and of humans covered the footpaths without clear boundaries between the living and inanimate refuse, hooded men emerged from alleyways eyes glazed over, every couple of blocks another soup kitchen was handing out sustenance on plastic plates. It was like a scene from The Wire or any other number of US tv shows about North American poverty. Then we turned a corner and as abruptly as the squalor had appeared it was gone, and we were in a neighbourhood that straddled grand old villas and light industrial buildings. One of those buildings housed Superflux Brewery.
I know Manaia and Nisha from the Wellington beer community, also Manaia’s dad is Tim Hunt who is the most recent tattoo artist to mark my skin. Superflux specialise in hazy IPA, not my cup of chai, however they also produce some amazing crisp clean lagers that sing bright, herbal hop character. After a beer or two Manaia took us on a tour. As Manaia and me talked kit, mum and Nisha bonded over how they were both former students of Naenae College. The head brewer at Superflux sounds like a character. Despite the brewery space not really being visible from the taproom he doesn’t allow SOP’s to be on show anywhere insisting that anything beyond a standardised small font beer name on each tank is housed on the internet. The brewery is home to a hoard of pot plants with each one being a cutting taken from the one specimen that was potted up when the brewery began. We spent a great couple of hours there before setting off on foot to explore a couple more breweries in the neighbourhood.
First stop a couple of blocks away was Czech beer specialists Luppolo. Situated in a sturdy brick building the bar area runs deep into the building length ways away from the windows creating a dark cozy space. Interestingly here again the brewery was not visible from the public bar. I love Czech style beers, they are a largely overlooked tradition in contemporary ‘craft’ circles. We enjoyed a fantastic Světlý Ležák pale lager from the side pour taps followed up by a delicious Tmavé dark lager. With this we had some outstanding pizza. These were the best Czech style beers I have had. The front of the beer menu was full of the Czech and a couple of German and Nordic style lagers, one had to turn the menu over (Pictured) to find the conciliatory pair of IPAs tucked away next to the soft drinks and wines. I could have sat here all day if I am honest, but we were here to explore.

A block or three over was the Bomber Brewery. On our first night in town I had a wonderful ESB brewed by them so was keen to explore them further. Bomber was located right on the edge of the residential area. The tap room was warm and packed. It was Super Bowl Sunday and despite us being north of the border and it being a moment of Trump initiated North American friction; Canadians were embracing the US sporting spectacle. It was refreshing to be able to order from the bar, table service was grating on me after a month of English pub life. I started with a Czech style Pilsner from a side pour tap. It was probably a mistake to venture into this territory having just been blown away around the corner. This one wasn’t nearly as good. Flat and hazy , it tasted green and was a bit of a challenge. I followed it up with a very good ‘Nut Brown Ale’. We left the sports fans to their game and caught an uber to Brassneck Brewery. This brewery was a mixture of formed concrete and roughhewn wood plank panelling. We perched on a high table our backs to the wall and ordered a feed of French style antipasto. I had a very nice Foudre aged Saison and then the unintentionally Shihad themed Killjoy Export Stout. As we sat drinking and eating the inevitable gods of international travel started to haunt us, tugging at our eyelids and whispering soporific incantations in our ears. As I paid our bill I explained to the bar woman that we were jet lagged and not drunk. Soon we were back in the hotel where we slipped into sleep with an ease usually reserved for the innocent.