We stopped off at Neder-Brauerei on the way back from our Unterzaunsbach visit. Of all the breweries in Forchheim, we was most keen to try this, as we’d had a lovely beer from them in Landbierparadies in Nuremburg.
It was an interesting experience, to say the least.
The export beer itself is wonderful, with toffee-apple flavours, like a Belgian beer but less sticky, and with great hoppiness.
The pub is not really a place for the casual beer tourist, though, particularly if you’re under fifty. Boak was the only woman in the place (apart from the barmaid) which was also a bit weird. We’re getting used to being stared at when we go into these kinds of pubs, but this was taking it to a whole new level, with the whole room literally stopping what they were doing to gawp. This is definitely a local pub for local people.
We stuck it out for a pint, and it was fascinating to watch the interactions. Everyone has their regular table and their regular glass or krug. There were a couple of random nutters, who joined us on the non-regulars’ table. They first talked to each other, about us — our Ober-Fraenkisch is not good enough to work out what they were saying, but the subject matter was obvious (that is, one of them pointed straight at us and said: “Diese?”). Then one left, so the other stared and stared at us until we couldn’t avoid eye-contact anymore. We were trapped.
He was friendly enough, and seemed quite happy to chat to us in the knowledge that he couldn’t understand us, and we couldn’t understand him. It was a long and slightly painful conversation during which we learned two things:
1. He had lived and worked in Norway for a long time but never learned English while he was there.
2. Scottish people have red hair. All of them. He was insistent on this point.
6 replies on “Brauerei Neder, Forchheim”
Proper German pubs = terrifying. I knew this already.
So what do you suppose the point of a non-locals table is? A legal requirement or a form of entertainment?
And I hoped you pointed out a) that all Germans are blond with gigantic comedy moustaches; and b) Sean Connery.
I like to think it’s to enforce sociability, but I fear entertainment may be nearer the mark. At least we knew to ask the barmaid this time. I dread to think what would have happened if we’d sat at the other free table (another unmarked Stammtisch).
We kept saying “Sean Connery” but he wasn’t having any of it. You’ll no doubt be pleased to know that he thought Irish people all had red hair too.
I plan to breakfast every morning in Neder after I retire.
Some of the blokes who were there looked like they might have been in since breakfast, now you mention it.
Funne that he claims to have stayed in Norway for a long time without speaking any English. Our German is rather rusty, and we tend to insist speaking English to foreigners.
He could
1) have a gift for picking up Norwegian fast, it is not that difficult for a German.
2) have been here in 1940-45, when there was no need to speak the local language.
3) have kept to himself.
We *think* he said he could speak Norwegian, so maybe option 1. Too young for option 2, we think…