I was wakened this morning by the ringing of the telephone. It was Basil. He was still in Montreal. Apparently there had been a ‘misunderstanding’ at the airport regarding whether he was flying executive class or in the cargo hold. Anyway, he had it all sorted out now and was booked on a flight later in the morning.

So I’m pleased to tell you that Basil has now arrived safely in Nova Scotia. I drove down to Halifax International to meet him this morning. It was no problem finding him in arrivals. Not only does a donkey stand out at an airport, but there was also a small crowd of fans there to greet him. The security guard told me that they just aren’t geared up to handle unexpected celebrities and asked me to get the donkey the hell out of his airport straight away.

I think that Basil was a little disappointed when he realized that he was going to have to ride in a rusty ‘91 Buick and not a stretch limo with bar. I think I heard him mutter something about it not being quite what he had become accustomed too. So, rather than drive straight home, I thought I would take him downtown to view the sights of Halifax. As we got close to Citadel Hill I heard a rather bored yawn from the passenger seat, so I carried on down to the waterfront. I figured that a walk along the harbour and a boat ride might cheer his spirits and give him a chance to get into the Maritime way of life.

However, as he got out of the car he spotted the “Brewery Tours” sign outside the Alexander Keith’s brewery. He broke into a gallop and I heard the screech of tires as he crossed the road and disappeared into the brewery. By now I had just about had enough of him, so I thought I would let him do his own thing while I went for a walk and grab a bite to eat. I somehow thought it wasn’t going to be too difficult to find him later.

And I wasn’t wrong. Three hours later when I returned to the brewery there was a large crowd in the courtyard. I pushed my way to the middle and sure enough, there was Basil, passed out in an alcoholic stupor. After some enquiries it seems that our Basil had quickly developed a taste for IPA and had been ordering bucketfuls all round. The management had never seen anyone drink so much, so quickly, and wanting to cash in on this had sent for their photographer. It seems that Basil is going to be featured prominently in their next advertising campaign.

But I guess this all went to Basil’s head in more ways than one, and he had drank a few buckets too many. Anyway, as soon as the janitor discovered I was with Basil, he told me to get the donkey the hell out of his brewery straight away.

Now, if you have ever tried to move an unconscious donkey you will know that this is no mean feat, but some of his new friends were pretty far gone themselves and felt up to the challenge. To the raucous singing of sea-shanties they were able to drag, hoist and push him into the back seat of the car.

Two hours later we were home, but Basil was still sound asleep in the back seat. I have decided to leave him there and hope he sobers up by the morning.

Tags: nova scotia, halifax, alexander keiths, brewery, beer, basil, travel, tourism