Festival of fun

by Adrian Tierney-Jones St Austell doesn't spring to mind as a prime destination in the dark days of winter. However, for the last four years,...

by Adrian Tierney-Jones St Austell doesn't spring to mind as a prime destination in the dark days of winter.

However, for the last four years, beer-lovers have been eagerly making their way to the Celtic Beer Festival, held at the fine Victorian tower brewery of family brewers St Austell.

Although there is English ale on tap, the festival is primarily a celebration of beers from the Celtic nations: Wales, Ireland, Cornwall, Scotland, the Isle of Man and occasionally Brittany.

Naturally St Austell provides its own brews, 17 of them, including eight one-off beers brewed in the company's small experimental micro-brewery by head brewer Roger Ryman.

"The festival was partly my idea and held in the first year I was at the brewery in 1999," says Ryman, who joined from Maclay.

"I had been inspired by other festivals, while St Austell also had it in the back of their mind.

The original concept was to do a Celtic beer festival trading on Cornwall's links with Celtic nations."

The Cornish peninsula is now home to a growing variety of beers from breweries large and small.

Grandaddy of them all is St Austell, so what better place to celebrate the great beers of Cornwall and the other Celtic nations?

It's a cold, crisp winter morning when I arrive.

The sun is shining and the sound of singing floats on the air.

Small groups scurry across the brewery yard, eager to start imbibing.

Down some steps and you're in the brewery's old wine cellars where casks are racked up behind a bar.

It's only just after 11am but trade is brisk.

A tunnel plastered with brewery posters leads into a large warehouse with a stage and more beers, plus patriotic pasties from a Lizard-based company.

Brewery wags dub this "the nightclub" and on stage, folk trio Black Velvet are going through a spirited version of Dirty Old Town.

They're the first of four groups, including headliners Sex Slaves From Hell.

Flags are draped everywhere: the Welsh dragon, St Piran's Cross, the three-legged symbol of the Isle of Man, the Irish tricolour, plus others.

And the beers?

There's more than 120 on offer, the majority cask-conditioned.

Unlike Campaign for Real Ale festivals, however, there are a few premium lagers, nitro-keg beers and Guinness.

"This is a beer festival, not a real-ale one," points out Ryman, "even though well over 90% of beers are real ales, we also have a premium lager bar, Guinness and wine, so we get a much broader cross-section of people.

There's something for everyone."

What a selection of real ales there are too.

Favourites such as Champion beer of the year Harviestoun's Bitter & Twisted are joined by beers rarely seen on the Cornish peninsula, such as the superbly bitter Brecon County Ale, Broughton's rich interpretation of a Scotch style, Old Jock, and a good selection of English beers from both micros and family brewers such as Elgoods, Fuller's and Ringwood.

Many of the latter have been donated, as profits from the festival go to St Austell's nominated charities.

There's also a selection from Interbrew, Coors and Carlsberg-Tetley.

The drinkers are a real mix.

At first it's mainly men, including several in Cornish kilts, but as the day progresses they're joined by (predominantly younger) women.

It's a good social mix, young and old, a lot from the town and the surrounding villages, though there are several coaches parked outside that have ferried fans from afar.

I talk to three local lads who have been coming to the festival since it started.

I'm intrigued because they look like the sort of drinkers who should, according to the market men, be drinking lager.

However, they are slowly but surely making their way through the real ales.

"This is a great event," says one of them, Alex.

"It's good to have an identifiable Celtic theme.

The fact that St Austell bothered to get beers from the Isle of Man speaks volumes for their commitment."

"This is my first one and it's fantastic," says Clare Ryans in the "nightclub".

She is a big fan of real ale, especially stouts and strong ales.

Brewers want more customers like her.

Her companion is Paul Gwynne, who has dressed for the occasion in a Welsh rugby shirt.

"This is also my first time at this festival," he says, "I go to a lot of beer festivals and so far it's very good beer and music and they've gone to a lot of trouble with the Celtic theme."

Back in the cellar bar, people are pouring in and it's just gone 2pm.

"This is what beer shouldbe about ­ people enjoying good company and good beer.

They're relaxed and with friends," says Ryman as he hands me a glass of St Austell's superbly-hoppy session beer IPA.

This theme is reiterated by Bodmin-based Nick Ellery who describes the festival as "a great place to meet friends and acquaintances whom you see at places like the Royal Cornish Show and the Floral Dance at Helston".

I talk to managing director James Staughton, whose great, great grandfather Walter Hicks started the brewery in the 1860s.

He is helping out behind the bar.

"Market forces say that there has been a decline in cask beer, but the evidence here today suggests otherwise," he says.

"What we are trying to do is let people know about the complexities of beer and I believe it shows our great strength that we can sell other beers here as well as our own."

There is a shadow over the festival, however.

The warehouse gets harder and harder to clear in readiness, while the cellar is under increasing demand for warehousing and storage.

"Whether we are able to repeat the event next year remains to be seen," Ryman writes in the festival programme.

I mention this to one drinker.

"It can't be the last.

It must carry on," he stresses, visibly distressed.

"This is the best in the west."

Over in the "nightclub" the folk-rock band Cunning Old Celts are leading a rousing set of jigs.

People are starting to dance.

Back in the cellar bar local singersRum and Shrub Shantymen are pummelling the crowd with a mix of sea shanties and traditional folk songs.

By late afternoon the place is heaving.

The evening is hectic and headliners Sex Slaves from Hell get a rousing welcome.

Dozens of casks have been emptied and the dedicated are starting on the stronger stuff.

There are a lot of young people.

"This is brilliant and a bit different from going to a club," says one as he fights his way to the bar.

I've lost sight of Ryman in the scrum, but it's not unknown for him to be seen dancing on the tables.

One last drink (St Austell's awesome barley wine Smugglers) and it's time to go.

Next day I catch up with Ryman and he confirms that it was a huge success with a thumping 2,000 people attending "No, I wasn't dancing on the table," he laughs.

"Well, I don't think so."

What an excellent way to promote beer.

It's great PR for St Austell, both with the local community and the brewery's licensees.

Plus it's an excellent way of spreading the word about the great complexities of beer.

Good beers, a good venue and no trouble.

Other family brewers should take note.