Real (ale) estate

My host, a Liverpudlian who’d lived in Stockholm for 25 years, was the man in the know when it came to decent beer.

He told me that English-style ‘real ale’ brewing was all the rage there and told me where they had the best selection.

“Let’s not hang about then,” I exclaimed. “Come on, I’ll buy you a pint!”

“Två öl tack” I asked in my best Swedish.

We sat on barstools, the beer arrived... I took a massive gulp.

“He says it’s 18 Euros,” said my mate.

“I don’t want to buy the whole fucking pub!” I spluttered.