Here we have an old building with a humorous name in Hitchin, where we visited Ritchie's brother, Martin, and sister-in-law, Deborah.
Ritchie, Martin (why the ridiculous hat, Martin?), and me at the beer festival. Apparently, only bearded men with top hats and pipes support real ale. I can't attest to this fact. The one unifying characteristic that I noted was drunkenness.
Ritchie, me, and Lorraine (Ritchie's sister-in-law) out for dinner for Ritchie's birthday. We continued our real ale drinking at the pub, which caused me to pass out at 10 p.m. when I went upstairs to put on my pajamas. Oops.
It was a great, if short trip and I can't wait to go back. I'm already planning for summer or fall of 2009, though Ritchie gave me the side-eye when I mentioned it. Perhaps I'll have to win the lottery first.
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