#366. Registry Bar, 2 India Buildings, Victoria St, Edinburgh

This place popped-up for the Fringe as part of the C Venues. It looked great from the outside, but was disappointing within.

#360. Abbatoir, Bristo Square, Edinburgh

The real party at the Udderbelly is in this backstage bar that is off-limits to anyone without a performer pass. Fortunately, I know people.

Unfortunately, there was no sign of Hugh Grant (sighted here the evening before), nor Robert Smith (hey, a guy can dream, can't he?). Also unfortunate was the crap beer selection. I think I had a Staropramen, but couldn't even finish it.

#352. Beehive Inn, 18-20 Grassmarket, Edinburgh

Shane Koyczan surveys the Grassmarket.

William Hare, serial killer.

It had a great beer selection, but there was something about the decor that just didn't feel right. I had a Flying Scotsman from Caledonian Brewery, which I found I didn't like as much as their Caledonian 80/- we just had up the road at the Last Drop. Maybe that is why I preferred that pub to this one?

Paul waiting his turn at the bar.

#350. Opium, 71 Cowgate, Edinburgh

Billing itself as an alternative bar/club, Opium is a pub on the main floor and a dance floor upstairs. It must have been industrial music night, because when I ventured upstairs to use the toilet they were playing "Worlock" by Skinny Puppy, while some young folks who had been teleported right out of Vancouver's Luv-A-Fair c. 1990 were posturing for each other.

Back downstairs, the music is a mix of mostly classic hard rock. Rush's "Spirit of Radio" was nice to hear. Some guy was obliviously dancing throughout the bar, looking very much like Dan Snaith of Caribou. It was a veritable Canada-fest!

We were lured to Opium by the promise of cheap drinks, as told by a local we had met earlier at Shane's Underbelly show. £1 will buy you a bottle of Budweiser, but that's not exactly what I wanted. They did have McEwan's on tap, and we even did a round of the almighty wreck the hoose juice itself: Buckfast.

#342. Cabaret Voltaire, 36 Blair St, Edinburgh

This live music bar is Fringe venue #338 and open until 5AM. This might explain why they were sold out of all their beer except Tennents. Fortunately they had bottles of Innis & Gunn, my new goto beer when there are no cask ales or some other tap dysfunction.

Cabaret Voltaire is trying too hard. You can always tell when a bar is trying too hard when it is playing James Brown, or has a bicycle hung on the wall adorned with Christmas lights. This pub suffers both afflictions, not to mention the mismatched furniture and kitchen utensils hanging from the ceiling above the bar. Perhaps, given their name, they think it is Dadaist, but to me it feels like an irony of hipsters had a design orgy.

#336. Amicus Apple, 17 Frederick St, Edinburgh

The first thing you notice when you step inside this downstairs New Town cocktail bar is the smell: like rotten milk mixed with a tropical fruit. Linus thought it smelled of douchebags during our first aborted foray, but on pause methinks he exaggerates. The clientele weren't that bad, but perhaps some of the unfriendly bar staff were responsible for the odor..? The beer selection was the usual corporate, lager-heavy rotation (Fosters (!?), Stella, Tennents et al) and with nary a Belhaven nor Deuchars on the menu I chose the Extra Cold Guinness.

#335. Kings Arms, 45 Home St, Edinburgh

After the film, we popped across the street for a pint at this small, comfy old boozer. The beer selection was crap, so we settled for the Tennent's Ember. There was something almost antique about the place, so I am giving Sean the throwback treatment in the photo.

#333. Victoria Bar & Lounge, 25 Causewayside, Edinburgh

The bar is on the left, and the lounge is on the right, separated by the serving area down the middle. Linus had stopped drinking by now, but I carried on with a half-pint of McEwan's 80/-, which according to Wikipedia is brewed locally by Caledonian. This lo-fi pub features a good book collection, very bright lighting, and a cafeteria vibe.

#330. The Wayside, 114 Causewayside, Edinburgh

Okay, so every once in a while I get mistaken for John McEnroe. I have to admit that we do resemble each other in a strange sort of way, and I am tempted to dress as him for Hallowe'en, complete with the head band and white shorts. Anyway, as Linus and I ordered our drinks here at the Wayside, a group of about half a dozen middle-aged Scotsmen were seated across the bar. One exclaimed "It's Jimmy Connors!" His buddy immediately corrected him and said "No, it's McEnroe!" This time I thought I would play along, and once they heard me sheepishly admit "Yes, I'm John McEnroe" in my accent, they started to stand up and get all excited, wanting to shake hands. Linus was silently nose laughing, once again finding humour in this bizarre case of mistaken identity that plagues me from time to time. For a brief moment I considered introducing Linus as Tatum O'Neal's son, or Daniel Radcliffe (he is often told he looks like Harry Potter). Once my fans at the bar started asking me for my autograph, I decided to stop the charade and said "If I sign, you'll know I'm not him, as he was left handed and I am not." The guy at the end then said something like "He played tennis with his left so he could keep his right hand free for this!" and started to mimic masturbating with his right hand. The bartender told him to stop, but that only seemed to encourage him, because he did it again even more emphatically.

The pub itself was okay. It was poker night, and the Olympics were on the telly. There were no cask ales on tap, so we had a Belhaven Best and a Tennents.

#329. Drouthy Neebors, 1-2 West Preston St, Edinburgh

We should have known we were in for a special evening. Despite the downpour that accompanied our long walk to Newington, south-east of Old Town, the sun eventually came out and pleasured us with a perfect rainbow that appeared to end at the foot of Arthur's Seat.

It turns out, the pot of gold that awaited us was a high-density collection of neighbourhood pubs that are clustered around this part of the city. Our first stop was the Drouthy Neebors, with its charming name and sexy exterior. However, we found the interior lacked soul power. Linus was impressed with how inexpensive the beer was. He had a Czech Staropramen while I shunned the lager-heavy tap rotation and went for a bottle of Innis & Gunn.

Linus enjoying a Czech lager.

#323. Tonic, 34A North Castle St, Edinburgh

After aborted attempts to visit Harry's Bar (closed Sundays) and Amicus Apple (smelly with douchebags, according to my son), we end up in this basement cocktail bar close to our home. An Innis & Gunn for me, and because Linus is a working class Protestant, a Tennents for him.

#317. Bon Vivant, 55 Thistle St, Edinburgh

I think I am at a well-regarded bar called Bon Vivant, but the branding and wicker furniture is confusing. Adding to the discord is the table of four loud women, high-fiving and yelling at each other excitedly over the Bob Marley on the stereo. It is too dark in here for reggae. The table service seems a bit unnecessary. Maybe it is so that none of the patrons trip and fall in the candlelight? The Belhaven Best is too cold. I don't even want to finish it... I just want to get out of here.

Not my cup of tea.

#314. The Montague, 85 St Leonards Street, Edinburgh

There's not much to say about this bright and clean pub. It looked and felt more like a first-floor New Town flat than a bar. The beer selection was minimal, so I settled for a half-pint of Deuchars IPA, which one can often smell in the streets of Edinburgh while it is being brewed at the Caledonian plant in Haymarket.

#311. Tempus, 25 George St, Edinburgh

The Tempus is part of the George Hotel. It features lots of ornate mirrors, leather furniture, but very few lumens up here in the seating area. The lampshade on my table is like a parody of The WestRoom.

I am on a streak of dimly lit cocktail bars, having run out of traditional pubs within a brisk walk of home. Will it ever stop raining? Belhaven Best is the best they can do for beer. The music seems chosen so as to offend no one, but in my case they have failed. It's not their fault, for I am in a bad mood, having spent the past two weeks eating from a buffet of sadness.

I distract myself by reading Wikipedia entries on my phone about algebra, relational algebra, analysis, and topology. Mathematics is a good place to retreat when one's emotional state is out of balance.

#304. The Hebrides, 17 Market St, Edinburgh

A texting bartender in her natural habitat.

This place was crowded and muggy with tourists, but did redeem itself slightly by having one cask ale on tap: a Black Isle Porter.

#303. Bar Kohl, 54 George IV Bridge, Edinburgh

I tried to visit this pub back in the Fall with Linus and Svea, but we bailed after checking the menu for vegetarian options. Bar Kohl is a pseudo-upscale cocktail bar with corporate beer taps and an extensive shooter menu. I drank a bottle of Innis & Gunn rather than settle for a Belhaven Best.

#301. Finnegan's Wake, 9B Victoria St, Edinburgh

It is Friday the 13th and I am in Finnegan's Wake, a live music venue on Victoria right next to Espionage. A balding cover band is rocking out just well enough to keep the crowd entertained. Now they are playing that Green Day song about hoping you have the time of your life, except they are giving it a twang. Meghan is here with her law school friends, but I am not feeling particularly social and spend most of the night drinking Belhaven Best in the little room off to the side. I am savouring the flavour, but not drinking responsibly. By the time All You Need Is Love is played, I feel like punching someone.

#288. Brasserie Strijdershuis, Hallestraat 14, Bruges

Not exactly where this pub is located, but near here.

This bar was right next door to our hotel. I drank a Keyte Blond of high fermentation. 7.5% abv, and very delicious. I think these guys brew it, but I'm not sure.

The menu featured titbits. Also very delicious.

#285. Bar Des Ami, Eiermarkt 19, Bruges

Down the road from Don Quichotte, we stopped in for another Zot and a glass of red wine.

There was a guy sitting next to us at the bar, by himself, drinking a glass of sangria. I encouraged Meghan to say hi and ask him what his story was, but she was too shy.

#279. Bierstube, Große Freiheit 23, Hamburg

Große Freiheit (German for Big Freedom) is a crazy street off Beatles-Platz in the Reeperbahn. The Beatles played regularly at a couple of venues on this road back in the day.

After several Originals, this time I got to enjoy a Duckstein Weizen.