Neuss

Altbier (old beer) is the beer drunk in Düsseldorf and the nearby cities of Mönchengladbach and Krefeld. Here, in pubs, trinkhalles or kiosks, you will struggle to find a beer which isn't an Altbier, such is its dominance. Altbier, it seems, is a huge part of the culture here, a real park of the 'Westphalia' identity.

The beer itself is a dark brown colour -- similar to a pale ale or something -- with a large foamy head. But it's much lighter than a pale ale - it's surprising just how drinkable it is. It really flows. The Altbier in the picture is significantly lighter and less heady that your typical 'Alt'.

As shown, it is custom to take the beer in a small glass, although you can order a 'pint' should you want. Don't though. On my first weekend I did, and got a lot of stick for it. 'You are drinking Alt out of a large glass!' came the flummoxed responses. Drinking an Alt in a large glass is a real faux pas, equivalent, I would think, to going to Dublin and drinking Guinness from a wine glass. People will look at you strange - don't do it.

There are eight Alt breweries in Düsseldorf, all located within or close to the Altstadt. They are as follows: Füchschen, Kürzer, Schumacher, Schlüssel, Uerige, Alter Bahnhof, Brauhaus Joh Albrecht and Brauerei Möhker.

On a Wednesday (I don't know why a Wednesday) it is tradition to head down to the Altstadt, stand in the streets and drink Alt. The breweries all employ waitress' to walk around the streets with trays of Alt and hand glasses out. A glass may cost a Euro, but if you hand them 90 cents, that's fine. It's also fine if you hand them two Euros, five or ten, just don't expect any change in this case. You won't get any.

If you head in to the Altstadt on any day other than a Wednesday, you'll sit inside the brewery as you would a nomral British pub. But you won't go to the bar to order; instead, waitress' with trays of Alt patrol, and if they see your glass is empty or nearly empty, they will take it from you and slam (literally slam) a fresh glass down on the table in front of you. Each time they do this, they'll quickly scribe a line on your beer mat, and it is that beer mat you take to the bar when you want to pay and leave; 'ok, eight scribbles, so that'll be eight Euros please.'

In the Moon Under Water in Wigan, I've seen guys complain because the head on their pint was too large, or that it wasn't filled exactly to the brim. Here there is none of that fuss involved. You may get a beer with a large head, you may not. The waitress may come and take your beer away from you when it's half drunk, or they may not. No one, really, is keeping count. Everything is rough and crude, and it really does leave you with the feeling like you are engaging in an activity which hasn't changed much, if at all, in hundreds of years.Read more