UK & Ireland Trip Part Four: Galway

Galway, Ireland is a vibrant city of around 70,000 people and the third largest in the Republic. We chose to visit because of its reputation as a city with a great pub and street music scene and a place that generally embraces the arts. Besides, it was midway through our vacation and we needed a visit to a place where we could do some laundry, relax and wander aimlessly. So that's what we did.

Bangers & Mash: Do Not Attempt if Counting Calories

Upon checking into the Balcony House B&B and meeting our hostess, Teresa, we took the 10 minute walk into town. We were hungry and ate at the first pub we saw, called Murty Rabbitt's. I had the hearty bangers and mash dish while BowlingWidow went with the traditional Cottage Pie. It was there that I also had my first Beamish Stout of the trip. To walk off the dinner we headed to the central part of town and Eyre Square.

Strolling Through Downtown Galway

The next morning we snuck into a small table at the B&B dining room. The room was full of Americans. Socializing with Americans: not high on our list of things to do in the UK and Ireland. It was a drizzly morning with the kind of weather that must have inspired Graham Nash to write "Cold Rain". The perfect weather to take a load of laundry to the Laundromat.

Because we're not night owls we went looking for an afternoon session of traditional music at a downtown pub, and found one at Tig Coili. Very crowded but most enjoyable. One thing to like about these sessions is that you can still have a conversation with the music going on. They don't play particularly loud, as is the case in a lot of American bars.

One of Many Bookstores in Galway

After a day and night of kicking around town, we got up and took a short drive to the village of Cong, around 25 miles north of Galway. We visited the grounds of Ashford Castle, which dates back to the 12th century and is now a very, very, very pricey hotel. Looking like the riff-raff that nobody wants in their palace, we didn't go inside. Instead we headed to the heart of the town and walked through the ruins of the Cong Abbey (which dates back to the 7th century) and its cemetery.

Back at Galway, we took in a bit of sports culture, watching a football (soccer) match at Monroe's Pub with a house full of crazed young fans who scream every bit as loud as we do for our football and then some. Going back and forth between the bar and our table, I was very cautious to insure that I didn't irritate the masses by blocking their view of the big screen TV. By the way it was Manchester United 3 and Liverpool 2, much to the delight of the partisan Manchester U crowd.

What's left of the Cong Abbey: 1,300 Years Old

After the game we wandered to a Spanish (yes, Spanish) restaurant called Cava to catch an American (yes, American) folk music show. Oddly and coincidentally our friend Dave Nachmanoff's sometimes bass player Mike Lindauer was performing with Buddy Mondlock. We had never met him but after the show said hello, made a connection and snapped a photo to send to Dave.

This was our last night in Galway and poor BowlingWidow was still battling a cold and elected to get some rest. I found a pub that had some live NFL Football that started at 6:00pm local time (10:00am Pacific Coast time). I ended up sitting at the bar next to a jolly, but quite inebriated, local man who chatted me up. When I told him I was from the Seattle area he said that he hasn't been there but has been to "Saffrasisco".

Watching soccer at Monroe's Pub With "The Lads"

After that stellar moment, it was time to go to bed. We had a 6:15am alarm to respond to, and many miles to cover that day, on our way to Belfast.

Next: Belfast, Northern Ireland

UK & Ireland Trip Part Three: Kenmare and Western Ireland

Was he or was he not? That was the question on the news, as we woke up on September 15th, regarding the sobriety of Irish Prime Minister (called a Taoiseach - pronounced "Tee-Shock") Brian Cowen. Apparently the night before, the big fella was burning the candle till about 3:30am singing, doing impressions and downing who knows how many pints of Guinness. Not the smartest move when you have a live morning interview scheduled on national television. But, in the words of the Dublin cab driver who drove us to Budget to pick up our rental car, "give him a break, everyone needs a night out."

The Nissan Micra and BowlingWidow Pose in Front of the Kenmare B&B

We picked up our Nissan Micra, loaded it with our stuff and prepared for the trip to rural western Ireland. I had driven a small manual transmission Peugeot (a true piece of s**t) in England 25 years ago. Could I recapture the magic of sitting in the right seat and driving on the left side of the road once again? Let's just say that in my zeal to get on the road and out of crazy Dublin I immediately drove over a curb, scraping the undercarriage of the vehicle. A tough start but I did pay for wall to wall insurance a few minutes earlier. No harm, no foul this time. Renting a car in Ireland ain't cheap when you add it all up. Around 400 Euros for a week (over $500) but that's the going rate if you want to see anything on the coast without slogging around in a tour bus for days. Autonomy has its price.

After figuring out the exit system that leaves Dublin (pretty much what we'd call a beltway around here) we were on our way cruising at 120 kilometers per hour. We decided to stop for a water and snack break in a little town that's smack in the middle of the country, called Roscrea (pop. 5000). This was a pleasant find, with a castle that dates back to the 13th century. We wished we had more time to roam around this heritage town.

Roscrea: Scenic Little Town in the Middle of Ireland

Later in the day we made a wrong turn (or two) and ended up paying 6 Euros on toll roads that we never really needed to take. We shrugged off the mistake that cost us 45 minutes and moved on south to a town called Adare (pop. 2500), which is just to the south of the larger city of Limerick. Judging by the amount of traffic here, this was clearly a place where a lot of tourists like to stop. And once we passed a row of thatched roof cottages and restaurants, BowlingWidow wanted to take our late lunch break here. When it comes to "thatched roofs","cottages", "villages", "cobblestones"...you get the idea, she needs to be a part of it.

BowlingWidow Checking Out an Adare Thatched Roof

As we approached our destination of Kenmare, the roads became narrower and more challenging to navigate. Despite the beating that our left rearview mirror was taking from the vegetation that hung over the road, I was still up to the task. Let me stop here and say this about the roads of this part of Ireland: they almost always have a speed limit of 100 kph. That's around 60 mph. Seriously, you have NO BUSINESS driving even half that fast on these roads unless your last name is Earnhardt, Foyt, or Andretti. What are the Irish thinking???

We got to Kenmare (pop. 2000) tired but in good shape. I had no idea how to find the B&B as it was a short drive from town. Finally, I figured out how to use the Verizon Global Phone that we got for such instances and reached Sheila, our hostess, who managed to get us to Forgefield House without sending us tumbling into a sheep pasture. Sheila and her husband said that we were the last guests of the year for them and rewarded us with a spacious room with hardwood floors upstairs and an incredible view of the rural property.

Rested up, we headed for dinner at P.F. McCarthy's Pub in town where we enjoyed pizza and a pint of locally produced ale called Kenmare appropriately enough. This was the first microbrew we had on the trip and have to admit that, while it was a decent effort, what we brew in Washington and Oregon is superior. At precisely 7:15 pm local time, just after a nice slice of highly caloric pizza, my group exercise session back at home was starting at 11:15 am. Ha!

A Typical "Superhighway" in Western Ireland

The next day we saw a road sign that said something like this: "Drive Carefully: 52 people have died on the roads of County Kerry in the last four years". That's probably the truth. And I'm also betting that 46 of them were Americans whose last thought had to do with why those insane people are driving on the wrong side of the road.

Yes, it's on to the Ring of Kerry. A seemingly short and breathtakingly scenic drive of around 100 miles that in reality takes most of the day. And that's the biggest misunderstanding about driving in Ireland. What you need to do is estimate how long it will take you to get from point A to point B with a handful of stops along the way, double it and add an additional hour. Yes, even more if you wander off to visit an ancient stone circle or two as we did (Staigue Stone Fort).

Some Classic Irish Scenery on The Ring of Kerry

If you find yourself driving the Ring of Kerry, leave early and go a clockwise route to avoid being stuck behind tour buses. That's one of the many bits of great advice we got from Rick Steves' Ireland book. Another is to build in time to take the Skellig Ring within the drive. This consists of an even smaller road, but has the added advantage of not allowing tour buses or motor homes on the loop. Plus you'll be able to get one of the highest and most stellar views of the green rolling hills, cliffs, and other landscape by doing so.

BowlingJoe's Amazing Find: Way Better Than The Blarney Stone

Back in Kenmare via the Valentia Island car ferry, we had a Murphy's Stout (Finally something other than Guinness!), ordered some fish & chips, and caught some live traditional Irish music back at McCarthy's.

We left Kenmare the next day with the town of Galway the being the next stop for a few days. On the way, we took another short ferry ride (that holds 50 cars) from Tarbert to Killimer that spans the mouth of The River Shannon. Towns seemed to be few and far between on this stretch so we stopped at a place called Milltown Malbay for lunch. Malbay is obviously suffering the effects of the recession, as many places in Ireland are. Every other shop or restaurant was closed down, and this once-thriving place near the water reminded me somewhat of the state my hometown of Port Angeles is in these days.

Our final pre-Galway stop was at the famous Cliffs of Moher. Five miles of 700 foot cliffs caused my massive erosion. Again, amazing view and watching birds fly several hundred feet below us was a bit freakish. The cliffs were impressive, but my vote for best natural vast expanse of scenery that I've been to would still have to go to our Grand Canyon.

The Scenic Cliffs of Moher

We made our way through the rolling hills (and some really large ones at that) of what is known as The Burren. This is the rock-filled Ireland with stone walls that seemingly stretch for miles to keep sheep and cattle from wandering off. The Burren is not a lush green like The Ring of Kerry was but it spectacular in its own hilly and rugged way.

Next: Galway, Ireland

UK & Ireland Trip Part Two: Dublin

BowlingWidow and I woke up on September 12th in Holyhead, Wales which was a good thing since that's where we went to sleep the night before. Plenty of time for an English Breakfast before we boarded the Stella Lines ferry to Dun Laoghaire, the small town where we stayed 8 miles south (and a short commuter train ride) of Dublin. From a quality perspective, the boat was somewhere in between our Washington State Ferries and a small cruise ship. It was a comfortable two-hour ride across the Irish Sea.

Sunday Market in Dun Laoghaire

We took a cab to Lynden B&B, although in reality we could have walked it. Upon checking in, we noticed that one of the stereotypical things we had heard about the Irish was coming to fruition: they do enjoy chatting you up. The friendly owner welcomed us and gave us a brief history of Ireland for 20 minutes before giving us our rickety old skeleton key to the room.

We headed off to lunch and found a place that had a nice roast beef carvery going for it, and along with some potatoes and vegetables, recorded the first of many pints of Guinness in Ireland (speaking strictly of myself here of course). As luck would have it, we found a nice Sunday market to stroll around and burn off some calories.

It was time board the DART train and conquer Dublin for the first time. Our initial impression of Dublin is that it's a grittier and more working class city than London is, although it's got every bit of the history (especially literary history) that London does and perhaps then some. The infrastructure is more worn down and its downtown workers are far less apt to wear a tie than in London.

Dining Room at the Lynden Bed and Breakfast

This takes us to the next two words: pub crawl! The theme of this particular crawl was Traditional Irish Music, as two talented musicians led us around Dublin's Temple Bar area (Temple Bar is to Dublin what The French Quarter is to New Orleans - or what Pioneer Square WANTS to be to Seattle). They performed at three different pubs in two hours, beginning at a place called John Gogarty's Pub, named after a local poet and author. This was a whole lotta fun as we had the pleasure of listening to instruments such as the fiddle and bodhran. When it was over, we had no idea where we were relative to the train station in the black night, so we took a cab to Pearse Station and hopped the DART back home.

Monday morning we made our way downstairs to enjoy a nice Irish Breakfast made by our hostess Maria. This consisted of eggs, sausage, bacon, porridge and...yes...blood pudding. We put the brakes on when it came to the blood pudding. Any dish with the name "blood" in it is guaranteed not to make the culinary cut on our list.

Dublin Traditional Music Pub Crawl Scene

Back to Dublin, this was a big sightseeing day for us. We visited Trinity College (founded in 1592) and took the informative hour-long tour given by one of the witty students. Trinity is where the famous Book of Kells is at, so we couldn't resist a glance. Next door is the almost-as-well-known Long Library Room with its two story high shelves of books, most of which were obviously bound a REALLY long time ago. For any library employees reading this, Bowling Widow wants to add that they shelve the books by size: big books on the bottom and small books on top.

Hungry for lunch, we stopped for a sandwich at the Stag's Head. This is a well preserved pub that was built in 1770 and contains a great deal of Victorian mirrors for some reason. Speaking of pubs, while I'm planning on devoting a blog post exclusively to "all things pub" (since much time on this vacation was devoted to the solid and painstaking research pertaining to what happens in a pub) but I do want to note one of the two best pub environments we encountered in the UK. If you are in Dublin, you *must* go to the Central Hotel Library Bar. There are no signs that will point you there. No advertisements. You probably won't find it in you guide book. Click on the hyperlink and check it out. Comfy, classy chairs and furniture. A delightful little bar in the corner. In short, a great place to take a rest from walking the streets of Dublin.

Street in the Temple Bar District of Dublin

Refueled, it was on to visit Dublin Castle a short walk away and the site of too many historical moments to mention (including some 20th century excitement) in this post. After the Castle, we crossed the Liffey River to the north into old town Dublin. And old town is quite a fitting description, we thought, as we walked along the quay. It has its own unique character but is definitely not the Dublin you'll see on the postcards.

It was nearing the end of a long day, so we thought it best just to stop at our new favorite place, Marks and Spencer, to get a wrap and a sandwich to go and eat them at the B&B that night.

September 14th would be our last full day in Dublin. It was also the exact date of our 25th anniversary and we awoke to howling wind and rain outside our window. Was it a sign? Nah, it didn't last and it turned out to be a fine day, although it did mark the end of seven straight days without any significant rain on this trip.

Back in Dublin, we took a long walk to Kilmainham Gaol (jail). This jail, now a local attraction, was built in 1796 making it a new building compared to most we had been in. This was prison for both debtors and those of the political variety. Many executions of Irish Republic leaders by the hands of the British took place within the walls of the jail. After looking at some of the cells and comparing it to a similar visit we made to Alcatraz Island in San Francisco, we had to admit that relatively, Alcatraz would have been like staying at The Westin. At least in Alcatraz you got a bed and a hole for a toilet. At Kilmainham you slept on the floor and were issued a bucket that you did everything in - including eating out of. On a positive note though, I do need to point out that the size of the prison cells are actually larger than our B&B room at The Jesmond in London.

BowlingJoe: Dwarfed by the Gates of Guinness

And now for something completely different: The Guinness Storehouse. No trip to Dublin is complete without this. The Storehouse is not to be confused with the actual brewery. We aren't allowed in there. But the Storehouse did have some very nice artifacts of Guinness history both old and new that were there for perusal. The top floor of the Storehouse is The Gravity Bar where the black stuff can be consumed to sweeping views of the city. And, of course, we had to go to their huge gift shop for a few souvenirs that included some glasses and shirts.

View of Dublin from the Guinness Gravity Bar

On Wednesday it was time to say goodbye to Dublin and enjoyed one last Irish breakfast with a few others staying at the B&B. We realized that over the last three mornings we sat at tables with visitors from the Czech Republic, France, and Poland, respectively. And the conversations (or attempts at conversations) that ensue as a result are one of the things that makes travel what it is.

Next blog: the challenge of renting a car in Ireland and driving on the wrong side of their skinny little roads. Did we live through the experience? I'm not telling. Stay tuned.

UK & Ireland Trip Part One: London (with a dash of Wales)

In September of 1985, 25 years ago, BowlingWidow and I were married and spent our honeymoon in London and Northern England around the Lake District. At the time, I was a travel agent. It was kind of a strange gig. One would get to visit some nice places, compliments of airlines, hotels and other travel-related companies. But then when the clock struck midnight it was back home to buy ramen noodle packs at 10 for a dollar. Travel agents didn’t fare too well in the pay department.

For our 25^th anniversary we decided to up the ante. Three weeks of vacation time in which we’d give London another look, Wales (briefly), Ireland, Scotland and back to London again.

At the time we bought our tickets, the least expensive purchase was to fly from Seattle to Vancouver BC on a small regional flight and then on to London nonstop on an Air Canada jet (Boeing products, of course) for close to 9 hours. Great flight (except for the obligatory turbulence) with no screaming children on board.

Arriving at around 2:00pm the following day, we took the famous London Underground (or “Tube”) from London Heathrow Airport to the Russell Square station on the Piccadilly Line. About a 6 pound ride with a few “milk run” stops but took only around 45 minutes, not much longer than a taxi would have. The tube is a giant spider’s web of a system and it’s surprisingly easy to move about the city at a reasonable cost.

Room at The Jesmond: Just Like Being Back at College

We booked Bed and Breakfasts for the entire trip and our first experience at the Jesmond Hotel would be the most spartan and we knew it. All that was available would be a walk-in-closet sized room with a sink and two small twin beds. Very romantic in a prison cell sort of way. The shower? It consisted of a tiny room upstairs (shared with a few other rooms) and was so touchy that one false dial adjustment resulted in a memorable scalding.

Our first meal and cask conditioned ales were in a pub (gee, what a surprise) called Mortimer Arms that was a few blocks from the B&B. We indulged in some excellent Thai food along with pints of Black Sheep Bitter.

Our first official “event” involved heading to the U.S. Embassy to pick up some passes to watch The House of Commons in session at their Parliament buildings. After some bureaucratic confusion (they’re apparently as good as we are in this country about that) we secured them. Fortunately the nice man with the machine gun standing at the Embassy door didn’t have to swing into action.

Beans: it's what's for breakfast, English style

The British House of Commons is as much about theater as it is getting anything done. Unlike our Congressional speeches, there’s a great deal of back and forth dialogue that takes place, and some resulting attempts at “one-upmanship”. The topic of that day was agricultural issues. Not particularly exciting but it was enjoyable for us Yanks to show up and watch the proceedings.

Looking toward NE London across the beautiful brown Thames

Next it was on to the British Museum. This houses the largest collection of artifacts and items in the world that have nothing to do with Great Britain. Seven million items in fact. If it’s ancient, it’s in there. And I do believe that we saw more vases than exist in all of the Pier One Imports stores combined.

Dinner on our first full night? Quite possibly the best East Indian food we’ve ever had. London is a gold mine of great restaurants given that 300 different languages are heard among its population of 7.2 million. The place in question is a tiny place on Cleveland Street called Olive’s Indian. Complex and spicy chicken curry at more than affordable prices.

BowlingWidow on the spiral staircase of The Momument

Some other highlights of the first leg of the trip included climbing 311 spiral stairs to the top of The Monument for some great panoramic pictures. This is (yet another) structure designed by Christopher Wren as a tribute to rebuilding after the Great Fire of London in 1666.

We also paid a visit to The Borough Market on the banks of the Thames River (which has remained the glorious brown color that we remembered it being in 1985). This market reminded us of our Pike Place Market in Seattle only it was totally devoted to food. Fruit, vegetables, cheeses, prepared ethnic food and so on. No cheap trinkets or touristy gifts here.

Marks and Spencer: Red Wine To Go!

London is a great town to walk around, and we did plenty of sightseeing from its streets. We saw things that ranged from Westminster Abbey to the tiny flat that Samuel Johnson once lived in. And if you want to see St. Paul’s Cathedral for free, here’s a tip: Every day at 5:00pm, they have a choir performance called Evensong in which non-members of the church are invited to come in and have a listen.

Another tip? Three words: Marks and Spencer. This is essentially a department store chain with a grocery section and food court (usually at the bottom floor). Every town of a decent size has one, and we would grab pre-made sandwiches, pasta salads and other goodies to stuff into our backpacks when we didn’t have the time to or desire for sit-down meal. They even have sealed plastic “glasses” containing red wine for that perfect picnic. Why this concept hasn’t caught on in the United States is beyond us.

Rainbow Over Holyhead, Wales

In London, we took the train from Euston Station to Holyhead, Wales. Schedule-wise, it was best to overnight in Wales so that we could catch a ferry boat across the Irish Sea to Dun Laoghaire (“Leary”) and Dublin the next day. The B&B at Holyhead was a decent walk in the rain from the train station and fit our needs just right. We were also rewarded with a rainbow and an excellent Cornish pasty at a local pub on that Saturday night.

Next blog: Part Two. Dublin, Ireland

UK and Ireland Bound

Blogging has been slow lately. And it will even be slower over the next few weeks. But wait till October. I'll be posting a lot. Ad nauseum, in fact. Three weeks in the United Kingdom and Ireland will tend to bring that out.

It's BowlingWidow and my 25th wedding anniversary and we're doing it up right. Stay tuned for words and pictures. I have a journal, a camera, and I'm not afraid to use either one to their fullest extent.

Bob's Your Uncle,

Bowling Joe

Sunday Afternoon at the Ballpark

There's just something about being at the ballpark, even if it's to watch the once mighty, but currently hapless Seattle Mariners. And here's another thing I don't mind doing: going alone. Particularly if it's on a nice Sunday afternoon when I can take the Sounder train to and from the game. Here are some reasons why:

The Sounder Train: All Aboard to Safeco Field

1. You can walk around the entire perimeter of the first level of Safeco Field and see the game. Camp behind the plate for a while? No problem. Like the view from center field? Can do.

2. There are lots of things to see there besides baseball, and you can do it on your own schedule without worrying that whoever you're with is disinterested. I like to check out all of the different items on the menu, even though due to calorie counting and price I rarely buy the stuff. There's also a nice little "museum" tucked away with artifacts from years gone by, including items associated with the Seattle Rainiers and Seattle Pilots.

3. My grandfather is there. Well, not really. But when they were building Safeco Field in the 1990s, my mother and I bought a commemorative brick with the name "Walter E. Nygren" engraved on it. He's next to the Mariner bullpen and it's a fitting tribute to the memory of one of the great sports fans of all time.

The Brick: A Tribute to My Grandfather

4. Boring game? There's no ten-run rule in the majors so if it's a blowout the game goes on and on and on. I can and have felt free to simply up and leave. Killing time at Uwajimaya in the International District while waiting for the train (which departs 40 minutes after the game ends) is always a good idea.

Last Sunday, in fact, worked out quite nicely. The trains ran on time (Mussolini would have been proud even though he never really did make the trains run on time), it was a reasonably nice day, the rolling carport roof of Safeco Field was open, and it was a well-played game.

A glimpse of the Safeco Field "Museum"

I find it interesting to watch the ebb and flow of what goes on there. And I'm not just talking about the third base coach signaling the batter to lay down a sacrifice bunt. Thousands of conversations are taking place amongst the fans. Vendors are in motion trying to earn a buck and tossing bags of peanuts around like beanbags. Alcohol enforcement workers are on the move. A baseball stadium is simply a great place to walk around and observe.

A great day to hang out in the outfield bleachers

Oh yeah, the score was Seattle 3 and Kansas City 2. But who really cares in the big scheme of things?

Five-Pin Bowling in Canada, eh?

Nothing speaks to the celebration of United States Independence Day like leaving the country. I have nothing against the holiday in and of itself, but being in the middle of fireworks "ground zero" every year has gotten really old. Not to even make mention of the semi-literate morons who have no qualms about lighting anything that makes a loud noise for a week on either side of the fourth, regardless of what time of day or night it is. And North Snohomish County has far more than their fair share of these Rhodes Scholars roaming the streets like zombies.

The view from the bridge: Granville Island

Last year we headed to Tacoma, a surprisingly wonderful experience. This year it was Amtrak to Vancouver, Canada for two nights. Vancouver has become one of our favorite destinations. It's a very multi-cultural place with an exceptional downtown vibe. Officially, more than 70-thousand people live downtown and at any given time it seems like 30-thousand of them are out walking their dogs, riding their bikes, or engaging in actual exercise that half of all Americans seem to be allergic to.

Because it's such a melting pot, one can find shops and restaurants that represent all corners of the globe. Colorful neighborhoods such as Kitsilano that we spent part of a morning roaming through are a good example of that. We were so busy roaming around some places that were new to us that we didn't even have time to hit the usual places such as Chinatown, opting instead to take the Sky Train to the heavily Asian-influenced suburb of Richmond for a very well-prepared and tasty dim sum session.

BowlingJoe with ball and pin: kind of like our game but smaller

A uniquely Canadian activity that we participated in was Five-Pin Bowling. This game was invented in Canada in around 1909. It's similar to the bowling we know in the U.S. yet different in, of course, the number of pins (which also carry different "point"values) and the fact that you get a maximum number of three shots per frame. The ball and pins are also considerably smaller and a perfect game is 450 as opposed to our 300. I won't bore anyone with all of the terms and rules, but if interested, click on the link in the first sentence of this paragraph.

What were my scores (he asks himself rhetorically)? Let's just say that it took me a while to get used to this game but I managed to show continuous improvement. They were 116, 139 and 172. BowlingWidow's numbers also improved and she even threatened to beat me midway through the last game. But I just simply couldn't let that happen.

Video: BowlingJoe gets a rare 5-pin strike!

Before we knew it, our time was up and we had to head back to the train station. Oh...and one more thing. I'd be remiss if I failed to mention the brewpub situation in Vancouver. It's not nearly as vibrant as the scene in the Seattle-Portland area but there is one gem that pours a hoppy IPA and a smooth Guinness-like-but-with-more-body stout: Yaletown Brewing in the hip and up-and-coming area of southeast Vancouver. Honorable mention goes to Granville Island Brewing Company located on (go figure) Granville Island.