"The liver is evil and must be punished," read a T-shirt at the Great British Beer Festival, amid the art deco splendour of Earls Court. "Does my belly look big in this?" asked another, probably a little redundantly. The festival – now in its 35th year – does many things, but subtlety is not one of them. Nor does it eschew cliche.

The Campaign for Real Ale's annual homage to the UK's national drink is unashamedly passionate and evangelical when it comes to matters hoppy, malty and wheaty (although pies, pasties and proper pork scratchings also receive due reverence).

The event not only offers real ale aficionados an opportunity to dive into such liquid delights as Golden Plover, Dark Munro, Crusoe, Mudskipper, Macbeth and Gribble, it also allows them five days in which they can don pirate hats and Viking helmets, air their beards – of which, predictably, there are many – and declare their undying loyalty to a peculiarly and ineluctably British cult.

Richard Edwards and Tony Maryon, two old hands from West Ham, were more than happy to explain the appeal of ale and festival. "Real ale is much better then keg, which gives me a stomach upset," said Edwards, 54.

"It's more interesting and it's variety that counts. It always annoys me that wine has this culture behind it; beer is more complex, but because it's working class, people think it's just about getting drunk. But you don't get that at festivals."

His companion nodded. Stereotypes aside – which both men were happy to laugh at, and off – Maryon insisted that real ale was finally beginning to attract the respect and consumer it deserves.

"The complexities of real ale are probably – dare I say it – more than those of a red or a white wine," he said. "You can go from a weak mild to a strong, wheaty beer, to almost a barley wine."

What people don't understand when they dismiss real ale fans as soaks sheathing their habits in tradition, added Edwards, was the element of connoisseurship and simple enjoyment. "I start off with a pint first, but after that it's halves and thirds," he said. "I'll probably try 10 or 12 different beers. In the old days, it was all old beer geezers, but that's changed."

His assertion was backed up by the presence of more than a few women, most of them quite young, and the occasional non-white face. Kelly Heselton cradling a small glass of something brown – "What's it called? I'm not sure. It's nice, actually, a bit like Leffe" – and looking for lunch with her friend Rosemary Jones.

What was she making of her first beer festival? "I thought there were going to be a lot of men," said the 36-year-old communications manager from Cheam, glancing around her. "But it's quite comfortable."

At the edge of the hall near a pile of something that looked as though it had recently been thrown up by a tipsy gremlin, sat Karen Sayer and half a dozen friends.

"I don't really like beer, but this is a nice thing to come to with my friends," said the 23-year-old from Bromley in Kent. "I like daytime drinking. And I like the third-pint glasses they do for women."

Nor did she have any problem at all with the predominantly male crowd. "Most people you see here are older men enjoying different types of beers," said Sayer. "But that's nice because there's no queue for the ladies'."

Five tastes



With more than 700 real ales, ciders and foreign beers on offer at the festival, the Guardian asked Camra volunteer Mark Bridges to choose five for a thoroughly unscientific tasting session. Here's our verdict:

Josephine Butler elderflower ale, Liverpool Organic Brewery 4.5%

Clean colour. Quite elderflowery on the nose, with some citrus. Light, fruity and clean taste. Would be good with Thai food.

The Spig, Sadler's Brewery, Black Country 4.1%

Clean, strong, traditional bitter, but still quite light and refreshing. Nice golden colour. Good session beer, but a bit much for bitter doubters, perhaps.

Jaipur IPA, Thornbridge Brewery, Derbyshire 5.9%

"Distinctive, rather herbal nose and flavour. Lingering, strong aftertaste. A bit of a monster after the mild-mannered Spig. Would need to accompany pretty robust food – a curry, maybe.

Titanic chocolate and vanilla stout, Stoke-on-Trent 4.5%

One to split the novice critics. A delicious wintry Christmas morning pint – and a great partner to Christmas pudding (Sam); a nightmare, an insult to chocolate and vanilla and just disgusting: makes me feel a bit sick (Hannah).

Gemini, Brooklyn, New York 9.1%

The ludicrous strength aside, this smells and tastes like sickly sweet fruit squash. Sharp and ridiculously, painfully hoppy. Wrong on just about every level. Who would drink this?

Hannah Pini and Sam Jones