I think we landed here in the monsoon season or something, the water pouring from above tried with determination to wash away our cabs on the way to a Vortex eatery/pub thing. Only problem is, we left in two cars and each landed in a different Vortex, it turned out there’s more than one around. Without resorting to heavy words as we had already the opening beers, we managed to gather the gang and huddled close to the bar, waiting for a larger table. That’s exactly the right time to have a round our two, right? When asked what beer they’d take everybody said whatever, implying more or less overtly that it’ll be just some “yeah that American piss”. Their looks when they tasted this Red Hare Gangway IPA, priceless! A big collective “wtf” was all I got for a starter, then some said very politely that um it’s different and all in all everybody had to agree that it’s no piss. Did I mention I have German colleagues? Well, I’m sure I got a few of them thinking that there’s more to beer than Oktoberfest, and this is the important lesson of the evening. Oh, and I wasn’t allowed to pick beers anymore.