Many a time has a well-seasoned drinker offered up a prayer while on his knees.
Alcohol and religion have gone hand in glove for 2,000 years. At the last count there are some 20 or so patron saints of all things beery.
Jesus may have got a lot of coverage with that neat water to wine feat in Galilee. But when it comes to miracle and myth these saints of suds have said “Jesse, hold my beer.”
From brewers to bishops, from Dark Ages through Medieval Times, they’ve been credited with curing plagues, putting out fires, warding off invasions and conjuring up assorted transformations.
For example, there’s Arnold of Metz (580-640) and his crucifix-in-the-brew-kettle gambit to persuade the folk of Oudenburg to drink beer instead of water amid a plague.
Beer was much safer to drink. No-one had a notion of boiling water – the British obsession with tea was more than a thousand years away – and fermenting the bejesus out of it was the only known way to kill bacteria.
Then there’s Arnold of Soissons who popped up around 400 years later.
The patron saint of hop pickers (wonder if that was where Fluff Freeman got his inspiration?) was said to have produced barrels of beer from thin air after a monastery roof collapsed, mullering most of the monks’ stock. They celebrated, and he was said to have been canonised on the spot.
Brigid (457-525) founded an abbey in Kildare. She was renowned for her love of beer and an apparent ability to spontaneously reproduce it. The legend goes she once changed bathwater into beer. I’ve come across a couple of breweries here in Spain who haven’t quite perfected the trick.
We also have Augustine of Hippo, (353-430), a prodigious beer guzzler who covered all the lascivious bases of wine, women and song until his conversion to piety.
Imagine being made a saint simply for being the prototype of Oliver Reed.
A sort of Hop-On, Hop-Off, if you like
And then there is San Lúpulo. San who?
Nothing much appears to be known about San Lúpulo de Capua, other than he was said to have been martyred in that city in Campania, southern Italy. The date of his death is unknown.
But that didn’t stop someone allocating him a saint’s day. It is celebrated on October 14 and is marked by drinking beer, which given his name translates to hop looks as good a reason as any.
And as St Bernadus shows, you don’t need to be canonised in order to be venerated.
The festival of Sant Llúpol (to give him his Catalan name) takes place next week in Barcelona’s Eixample district, the beating heart of the capital’s craft scene. It is a bar crawl billed as “the hoppiest pilgrimage of the year”.
Ten bars – BierCab, BrewDog, Brew Wild, Cocovail, Conesa, Garage, Humble, Mikkeller, OKasional and Rosses i Torradas – are taking part in the event organised by the team behind the Barcelona Beer Festival.
A €17.50 ticket gets you one beer in any five of the 10 participating establishments (updated post from organisers on 13.10.20), all of which are within walking distance of one another.
It is a revival of a one-day beerathon that was held for the first time in 2012 as an autumn companion to the initial BBF. It ran for three editions.
Then it was more of a jolly boys’ (and girls’) coach outing. A sort of Hop-On, Hop-Off, if you like.
None of the bars from that first foray feature on the upcoming roster, though Manolo Baltasar, then of German-themed Freiburg, is lauded these days as the driving force behind the garlanded BierCab.
The BBF initially hoped to revamp March’s cancelled event for this autumn, as mentioned in a previous post.
“Common sense says it is not the time to do a festival of the volume of the BBF, and we will have to wait a little longer,” the organisers said in a statement.
“We do not rule out initiatives of a smaller format of spreading craft beer culture in the coming months, adapting to COVID safety standards at all times.”
That wait will be until next spring, with April 16-18 unveiled as the date for the 2021 Festival.
In the meantime, Barcelona’s hopheads have a bar crawl to dive into.
And if any are on their knees and seeking celestial guidance as that last triple IPA hovers tantalisingly over the bar they will not be short of a saint or two.
Continue reading “Saints alive! Barcelona’s going to the hop”