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Schutzenfest nostalgia…bottled bliss.

August 11, 2014

As a refugee from the East (Melbourne) way back in the last year of the Sixties, one of the most vivid memories I have of my change of lifestyle was my first visit to a Bacchanalian shindig up in Hahndorf known as the Schutzenfest… Bullets flew. Steins were slurped . Songs mangled. Tables were danced on. And then, of course, there was that famous  haven of sobriety and song, known as the Barossa Vintage Festival. But that’s another story.

All of which came flooding back to me this week, when a long-time Morphett Vale  museum mate asked me to help out in shedding some of his enormous stash of SA memorabilia.

Which is why this Grumpygram is being tapped out at a desk with a keyboard sharing space with an (unopened) bottle of 1971 Schutzenfest  export beer from the gentle hands of Cooper and Sons when they still  operated from the salubrious suburb of  Upper Kensington.

And therein lies a problem of tremendous proportions….all 13 fluid ounces of it.

To drink, or not to drink? To guzzle or gaze? Or to find  a beer-aholic collector willing to have an historic talking point adorning his bar.

Reasonable bids considered.


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