That refreshing feeling . . . the way the head sinks slowly,
steadily, like a gold stage curtain. The creamy bubbles stick
to the tip of your nose, then drip off, like whipped cream.
And then there is the slight bitterness imparted by the
chocolaty taste.
I had drunk Guinness in a number of places. Osaka,
Tokyo, Beijing, Novosibirsk, Moscow, St Petersburg,
Copenhagen, Amsterdam and London. The closer I got to
Dublin, the noticeably better the taste had become but those
pints could not hold a candle to the real stuff. You can only
drink this Guinness in Ireland. Aaaaahh, there’s nothing like it. This was what I came for . . . Guinness for strength, for
spiritual fortification to carry on pedalling. It was acting as
a stabiliser to support pedalling in my heart. I felt completely
restored to health. (from "Against the Wind" - Poolbeg Press)