Drinking Europe

I've had a request from Dan to post about the beers of Europe. Here's what I've got.
Peace,
Chris

What even qualifies me to write about drinking in Europe? After all, I'm a product of Red State America (with a tinge of Blue State College). After all, I'm not a big drinker, in fact I actually waited until I was 21 before non-consecrated alcohol touched my lips.Maybe though, these facts are what make this interesting. After all my experience of drinking really has been shaped by and in Europe.
What were my first impressions of drinking in Europe? I suppose it was the shattering of a myth perpetuated by my High school German teacher. The myth being that Europeans drink, but never with the intention of getting drunk. One of the first weeks I was living at the Abbey I told my European co-workers this myth, they responded by "getting pissed" (pissed being British for drunk). My second impression of Europeans drinking was that everyone has their signature drink. The Slovakian plays to type by chugging Vodka, while the German and the Englishwoman disappointed me, as neither were big into beer, which I assumed would be their ethnic drink of choice. Instead they both go for fruity, but highly alcoholic, drinks.
Enough about the people, lets get to the drinks! Most of my drinks have came from the Temeraire, a Pub in Saffron Walden known for its good onion rings, its Sunday Roasts, and its cheep prices. There I've sampled many a pint. Each week they have a new "guest beer" on tap, I usually have a pint of whatever that happens to be. The highs and lows from these taste tests are as follows, Tangle Root on top and Efes Pilsen, a Turkish Beer, on bottom. As for the local stuff there is Guinness, which is extremely good, as well as Carling, which is (though an Englishman would throw a rock at me for saying this) the British equivalent to Coors. An interesting fact I learned about Guinness is that it was originally brewed in an effort to curb drunkenness, as it is made in such a way that it is actually quite hard to get "pissed" off of. When it comes to the subtypes of Guinness I have to say nothing beats Guinness Draft, its dark, like Black Hole dark, and that's something I appreciate!
There is another place I've encountered alcohol in Europe, my work, Saint Mark's College. These encounters have ranged from buying Tesco's Generic Beer (you get your money's work at 39p a can) to sampling the various spirits we sell from our "tuck shop" and serve to the Anglican Bishops. I've concluded Wiskey is a little too harsh, Sherry tastes like cough syrup, and Meade is divine. Yes, I've drank that honeyed liquor and felt is twist in my bones, felt it glom down my gullet, calling my back deep into some old unconscious bit. Back to where wolf's teeth gnaw on caribou corpse, where the Norse wind blows in billowed sail, dragon stern crashing through cracked ice, thoughts ofdistant lands to raid and plunder, where the ancestors lay entombed in helm and warring splendor, and are thrown upon the pyre. In short, Meade be a very fine drink, but one not to be taken lightly.
Finally there must be something said for sentimental drinking. When I want to think back to that loving continent I left behind I, strangely enough, don't grab a Budweiser, or a Coors, but in fact I grab something from a little farther south, a Corona.