Well, old Pete may have cleaned up the riverfront, but he forgot to install any restrooms, so I had to look elsewhere.

I hear you asking yourselves, how come this young (cough) man is extolling the virtues of a beer that is fit only for the West Midlands cloth cap brigade and old fogies elsewhere?

Pale yellow, gassy, non-descript, mostly harmless, yet curiously approachable, whether served on draught or in cans… it was all the same.

...it was a veritable sh*t scene, but in a good way...