From the Desk of JT, the Beer Logger (B-Logger)

Mission: Having a blast, with beer!
Beer #4957 of 5000
Location: Anspach & Hobday – The Arch House, Bermondsey, London
Beer: Ordinary Bitter
Vibe: Craft beer pilgrimage on the Bermondsey Beer Mile
Mood: Accent envy + pint happiness

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🍺 Pronunciation Olympics

Confession: before walking into Anspach & Hobday, I had zero clue how to pronounce “Anspach.” Hobday? Piece of cake. But Anspach? That’s a Scrabble word in disguise.

Enter: the cute bartender, who just so happened to be on her first day. Brave woman. Instead of fumbling with her new till or pretending to look busy, she leaned in and saved me from butchering the brewery’s legacy. “It’s basically On-spotch,” she said, with the kind of accent that instantly makes you question every life choice that led to you not being British.

Why does every English, Scottish, and Irish accent sound like it belongs in a BBC drama, while mine screams, “guy who forgot to mute his mic on Zoom”? Not fair. Seriously jealous.

But pronunciation saved, pint poured, and pride intact.

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🎉 The Pint, The Process

This was beer #4957, and not just any beer—it was an Ordinary Bitter. Now, don’t let the name fool you. “Ordinary” isn’t an insult here. It’s more like “everyday hero,” the kind of pint you can drink without needing a hype video or a PhD in hop genetics.

And let me tell you, when you execute the SNIFF SIP CHUG flawlessly (new rule: always caps, always with swagger), an Ordinary Bitter shines.

• Overall: Comfortably classic. The kind of beer you want when you’ve been walking the Bermondsey Beer Mile and need something grounding.

Rating? Solid 3.75. Respect. Enjoyable. Not world-bending, but definitely pint-worthy.

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🛢️ The Bermondsey Factor

Now, let’s zoom out. Bermondsey isn’t just a neighborhood—it’s a beer lover’s pilgrimage site. The Bermondsey Beer Mile is basically Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, if Willy ditched the candy for craft breweries and made you walk a mile while drinking at every stop. I loved the original Willy Wonka’s movie. And I absolutely love this original stretch of goodness called The Bermondsey Beer Mile.

This one stretch of railway arches and cobbled streets hosts more breweries and taprooms than almost anywhere else on the planet. Walk 50 feet—boom, another pint. Keep going—oh look, another brewery. It’s absurd in the best way possible.

Anspach & Hobday sits right in the thick of it, tucked under the arches, blending London’s gritty industrial backdrop with modern craft cool. You’re drinking history and hype at the same time. The air smells like yeast, concrete, and adventure.

And the energy? Chaotic good. Backpackers with guidebooks. Locals who clearly “just popped in” for their eighth pint. Stag parties already wearing paper crowns. And me, somewhere in the middle, pretending I belong, pint in hand, accent envy on full blast.

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🌞 Surprise of the Stop

The biggest surprise wasn’t the beer—it was the moment. Standing in The Arch House with pint #4957 in my hand, laughing about pronunciation lessons, and realizing this is what the journey’s all about: not chasing the rarest whales or hunting for untapped taplists, but sharing tiny human moments with strangers who hand you beer.

Also, let’s not overlook the bartender’s first-day confidence. Correcting clueless tourists, slinging bitters like a pro, and doing it all with the grace of someone who knows their accent is untouchable. Cheers to her.

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🥩 Fuel for the Mile

Side note: you can’t do the Bermondsey Beer Mile without some kind of food strategy. Otherwise, you’re just a statistic waiting to happen. The arches hide not just breweries but street food vendors and random little food stalls that save lives. Sausages, cheese, sandwiches that could legally qualify as flotation devices—they’ve got it all.

Because here’s the deal: you need ballast if you’re going pint after pint. Ordinary Bitter may be light, but the Mile is a marathon, not a sprint. Okay, it’s actually both.

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🎉 Beer #4957 in the Big Picture

Beer #4957 wasn’t some double dry-hopped haze bomb. It didn’t come with a “limited edition” wax-sealed can or a waiting list. And that’s exactly why it matters.

On this crazy march toward 5,000 unique beers, some stand out because they’re hyped to the heavens. Others stand out because they’re just… good. Solid. Reliable. The kind of pint that keeps a beer culture alive.

Ordinary Bitter at Anspach & Hobday was exactly that—a reminder that not every beer has to be extraordinary to earn its spot in the 50 Beers to 5000 logbook. Sometimes, ordinary is extraordinary enough.