The two things I hated most about lockdown were a) lack of mobility and b) lack of pubs. My response was to engage in a kind of global beer tour, reliving happy times from the past. Of many personal ‘happy places’, the happiest of all is probably relaxing outside an Austrian mountain hut, the satisfaction of a long day of Alpine mountaineering behind me, and kicking back with a local ‘helles’ beer, or perhaps a dunkel. So I recreated it in my tiny north facing back garden with this order of German beers from one of the many small suppliers of obscure brews that sprang up to service lockdown requirements. Having worked my way through the lot, I delved into the highly obscure world of the new wave of Dutch ‘Bock’ beers, ordering from a tiny company that was rushed off its feet. Each order brought a surge of joy into the dull routine of lockdown life, lovingly arranged in the cupboard. Dreaming of Alpine peaks, confined to sea-level: these bottles helped a lot.