Dunedin called me south. It wasn’t the beer that took me there, but it is a beery sort of city and the beer could have kept me there for more. Which is not something I would have been able to say when I was growing up, long ago in the area.
There was beer in Dunedin back then, alright, but mostly one brand. And it’s still here, sitting atop its famous water source and still using way too much of it in the mix. But it’s not Speights I’m here to sample, though their old brick brewery is now a popular tourist attraction.
Over at the north end of Dunedin, just a punt from the city’s famous stadium, is Emerson’s, a crafty old operation that dates back more than 30 years.
Bought by Lion 12 years ago, it remains true to its old-school impulses and its classic core brews. They have 14 tastes on tap at their brewpub, an industrial-scaled place, cavernous but somehow cosy, inside and out. Their beers are cosy too, especially their English-style ales, Bookbinder and 1812, though I’m a bigger fan of one of Emerson’s wilder moments, Hazed and Confused, a New England-style hazy IPA.
And their food is a notch above the usual without frightening the locals. The fish is battered in Emerson’s pilsner, there’s a venison burger, chilli-enhanced mac and cheese, popcorn prawns and – outstanding in its field (small plates) – Peking duck served on wonton crisps with hoisin sauce, spring onion, pickled swede and micro coriander. Pickled swede; who knew?
A great spot on a sunny Saturday afternoon with a laidback, family-friendly feel and energetic and friendly young staff. But wait, there’s another brewery just down the road, here on Anzac Ave. This one’s called Noisy Brewery, though there’s less of the din and more of a friendly mumble going on in this popular little place with its 10 taps, all brewed on-site and featuring most of the usual styles. Plus a white stout. Harmonic Generator is a particularly funky hazy. To chew, they do truffle fries, ribs, a halloumi burger and, a touch of refined southern tastes, fried bread.
Dunedin, the inheritor of more old architecture than it knows how to occupy these days, is full of mysterious alleys, some of them made more mysterious by their names. Up at the far end of one called No Name Alley (for added atmosphere, it’s off Police St), lurks the Steamer Basin brewery and taproom, an even smaller operation with a bit of a steampunk vibe. There are 10 taps — honey pils, oatmeal stout, two saisons, no hazies, though their bright pale ale is a pleasant enough drop. There’s food too; four sorts of pizza, one (excellent) sort of toastie (mozzarella, aged cheddar).

Next day, the road beckons, all the way to Central Otago where it seems almost everywhere serving beer offers something crafty if you look closely enough. In beautiful old Clyde, at a stony old eatery/pub called the Post Office, I spot an interesting label among the usual-suspect beer taps. It’s a wild one from Wanaka Beerworks called Grazin’ on the Haze, a stupendously hazy IPA, a real mouthful, almost chewy.
Interestingly, with each subsequent glassful I had – I’m not saying how many – the haze diminished. “It’s an interesting one,” observed the barmaid. I could only agree and took a photo before the beer went clear and I lost focus.
Next day the road pulls me up the gorge through Cromwell and on, up the turbulent Kawarau River all the way to Frankton, a less-traffic-jammed option to Queenstown, further along the lake. There’s a brewery here with a reputation for good stuff. It’s called, appropriately, here among the mountains, Altitude, and it lives just above the Frankton Marina, designed with an open-fronted approach, anticipating warmer weather.
There are 11 beers on tap, plus a cider and a food truck called Smoke and Pickle. The seats are cushion-topped barrels, the style is casual, the Sled Dog session hazy (4.5%) slips down easily. Someone mentions how mild the weather is, though it’s just 7C. I consider protesting, but instead order a pint of the beer with the most appropriate name. Yeti’s Blanket.