Proof Reads

Gary Glitter and Absinthe in Edinburgh

  by Rob Currie  

I’ll never forget the first time I tasted absinthe.  It was in Edinburgh, during the International Festival in August.  The city, for that month, is home to thousands of performers from across the globe and at night they and their audiences are keen to take a drink or two.  My friend Lewis and I decided to join the revellers on one of these mad summer nights and get a little bit rough ourselves.

Due to financial constraints we decided to drink in some of the less showy establishments the city has to offer.  Bar Salsa in the Grassmarket, with its strangely sticky tables was our starting point, and it was here that we saw a bottle of La Fée Absinthe behind the bar.  Lewis’ face lit up and he ordered two for us.  The ‘Green Fairy’ was poured and very much drunk.

I say ‘poured,’ but there’s more to it than that.  Absinthe drinkers require a touch of patience, as there’s some preparation to go through before it even touches your lips.  A shot of absinthe is poured into a glass and across the top you place a special slotted spoon.  A sugar cube goes on the spoon and 3-5 parts water (to your 1 part absinthe) are poured over the sugar.  The parts of the absinthe that aren’t soluble in water start to cloud the drink – this is called ‘louching’ (from the French, louche, meaning ‘opaque’).  Absinthe has a particular anise flavour but louching brings the previously more subtle herbal flavours to the fore.  It is delicious, and it’s got one hell of a kick.

We drank three glasses each before the bartender stopped serving them to us.  Why?  By 1915, absinthe had been banned in the United States and most European countries, in part because of some drinkers experiencing  hallucinations.  Absinthe was blamed for much psychosis in those days, and this was the kindling that the temperance movement used to light a fire in the early 1900s, which ultimately lead to the banning of absinthe in many places throughout the world. Although the drink has always been legal in the United Kingdom, many bars and clubs restrict the amount they’ll sell to a patron.  Luckily this posed no great problem to us as Edinburgh is saturated with pubs – finding another with absinthe for sale would be easy.

Our next stop was a club on the Cowgate, Subway.  It’s closed now, which is probably a blessing – to give you an idea, the place had toilets a fly would think twice about going into.  On the upside though, the place had more than one bartender and a great deal more absinthe was consumed.  After a while, we went outside for a smoke and got talking to a couple of Americans who were performing a show (another beauty of the Festival – everyone talks to everyone).

We asked them what their show was about:  “A young guy,” they said, “who loves the music and achievements of his favourite musician… Gary Glitter.”  When they saw the sceptical looks on our faces, they quickly added, “oh, but it’s not about paedophilia or anything!”   Despite ourselves, we asked them what their show was called.  “Up the Gary,” they told us, and at that point we had to leave in fits of laughter.

The absinthe was truly kicking in by now.  I mentioned before that rather than a traditional drunk experience, absinthe tends to have a more hallucinatory effect on people.  Indeed, Lewis was convinced for quite some time that I had punched him from the other side of the room… somehow.  You should know though, that we had drunk an irresponsible amount, and  in smaller quantities you almost certainly won’t get this result.

Lewis and I staggered home at five in the morning, wobbling along Prince’s Street as the sun rose.  It had been brilliant, and for that single night out I will always award absinthe, the ‘Green Fairy’, a solid five stars.  ‘Up the Gary’ got surprisingly good reviews too!