Around the World in 20 Drinks: Belgium

Belgium is a strange place. The country, and the capital, seem to subsist entirely on gains from a massive continental bureaucracy, but take years at a time to form their own governments. They have a famous statue that urinates water, and take great pleasure in dressing it in various questionable fashions. They seem to have replaced all other liquids in the country with beer, which may explain the Mandela costume for the pissing child.

It seems fitting, then, that the country's best beers seem to be the ones with the strangest origins. The Belgian fruit beers from the likes of Mort Subite and Cantillon are produced by spontaneous fermentation; that is chucking random bits of wild yeast into the barrels and letting nature do its thing, rather than making sure that a yeast works beforehand.

There is a rivalry between the various groups of Trappist monks in the country to put out the best ale. The monks are scrapping over beer. Monks. The Westvleteren monks make probably the best beer in the world, or at least that's what everyone who travels the two hours from Brussels for an appointment with the monks says. Why travel? Well, the monks don't want to make a profit, and refuse to make any more of the stuff than they need to.

The bars continue this trend. The Mort Subite bar in the heart of Brussels reminds you of just how good Harry Potter could have been had the boy wizard been recast as a swarthy European. It's a vast, glistening hall filled with long tables and stern bar staff. The lighting is the same no matter what time of day it is, and the vibe is somewhere between haunted school canteen and old-school boozer.

And then there's the Delirium Tremens. Oh lord, the Delirium Tremens. The pub with 2000 beers, where the queue to get served is always shorter than the queue for one of the six-inch thick menus. The bar with so many taps that midway through the evening you'll be confusing it for a church organ. The pub that brews its own ale that sells in a painted bottle with neon blue label. Their logo is a dancing pink elephant, and it looks down towards that peeing statue. Having read that sentence back, the Belgian love affair with beer makes perfect sense. Well, as much sense as any story with pissing children dressed as world statesmen can make.