Lorient, France was pretty dull despite its beaches and friendly Frenchies, probably due to the fact it was bombed to the ground in World War II. Everything was rebuilt quickly without much character. I barely saw anyone my age around town the whole two weeks I was there, mostly because the rich folk from around the country have claimed the town (specifically Larmor-Plage) as its summer vacation spot.
In fact, when I searched for information about the town, the only results I received were advising me to avoid the area entirely. Discouraging.
Fortunately, I had a terrific co-worker who took me under his wing and showed me the sights. Near the end of my trip, he mentioned a pub with 600 beers.
I thought I had misheard him. “What?”
“600 beers, from all over the world.” All casual and stuff, like a bar filled with delicious, global, bubbly, sweet-sweet ale was no big deal.
I was practically beside myself, having moped around my apartment for days reading trashy novels and berating myself for not being bilingual.
We drove for what seemed like an hour, past fields and along deserted roads in the middle of nowhere. I began questioning if he were going to lead me out into the woods to ravage my body. I unbuttoned my blouse. Alas, through pitch darkness, I spotted bright lights up ahead.
There, on the outskirts of town, was the Pub aux 600 Bieres, with flashing lights and a massive sign advertising its different types of drinks, comparing its brews to blondes, redheads, and brunettes. There wasn’t a single other car in the parking lot.
I felt like I was stepping foot into Narnia. Inside, the steps and tables were embedded with beer bottle caps in the shape of flowers. Huge viking mugs dangled from over the bar, and the walls were plastered with drink coasters from pubs around the world. I recognized Amsterdam’s Bull Dog as one.
I have never seen such boozey interior design, other than the wall of Bud Light cases from a party long ago. I pinched myself.
The white-haired owner sat behind the bar reading a magazine with his eyeglasses attached to a string around his neck. When we sat down at a booth, he promptly walked over and plopped two massive menus down in front of us, like a freaking catalogue of beers. Think about that for a second.
I then faced the hardest decision of my life: which beer to drink. OMG the options! I could not have been more confused than if I were asked to pick a mate from a line-up of male underwear models. The solution revealed itself to me in the form of a beer platter: six little glasses of different worldly beers.
They were delicious.
As part of my effort to launch a Global Pub Crawl, wherein I will take over the world with one pub at a time, I invite you all to share the most unusual/amazing/fun bars you’ve ever frequented. The world needs your input (or at least I do).