If you search ratebeer.com, you will find that the best beer in the world is made in Belgium. The Westvleteren 12 is a life beer (a beer that must be added to your bucket list). However, as we've recently found, it is extremely difficult to come by. The Sint Sixtus Brewery produces a mere 500,000 bottles of the 12 each year (as well as the "6" and "8" brews) which is only available from the Abbey in Westvleteren by special appointment and is limited in both quantity and frequency (2 cases per car per month while supplies last). Basically, the monks of Sint Sixtus are like the "soup-nazis" of beer. If all your ducks are not in a row, then it's "No Beer For You!" And, of course, being the beer nut I am and in the land of the world's best beer, I could not forego the chance to taste some good brew. A pilgrimage had to be made.

We stayed with our good friends Koen and Rebecca in Lier while preparations were made. We first researched availability of the 12. Only the 8 was available, but there was still a chance that the cafe would have the 12. Koen was pivotal and persistant when it came to making arrangements. Forty-Five consecutive calls to the single abbey brew line were made before the phone was picked up (Koen's secretary played a crucial role in this quest). This suggested that the odds were stacking up against us. She finally got through and an appointment was made for the 8 (currently the second best beer in Belgium) and she was told that the 12 would potentially be available at the adjacent cafe (in Belgium, beer rather than coffee is served at cafes. How great is that?!).

On mission day, we drove the 2 hours from Lier to Westvleteren in the northwest of Belgium. The excitement was barely containable. Suddenly, there it was, the Abbey of Sint Sixtus, one of the only 7 remaining trappist breweries in the whole world. We drove up to the Abbey pick-up, our license plate number was recorded, our reservation was checked, then a man with a dolly full of our beer wheeled it over to the car. Forty-eight beers in total (yes, I counted each and every one of them to make sure none were missing).

We strolled over to the cafe for a drink. This was one of the few places in the world allowed to stock and sell the "westy 12," but unfortunately, no bottles could be bought. However, there on the menu was listed Westvleteren 12. Apparently, you cannot buy bottles of the 12, but they always keep a reserve at the cafe for tasting. We promptly ordered a round and were delivered the sweet nectar in its own, custom glass. We raised our glasses in a "gezondheid" (cheers in Dutch) and sipped our victory.

To try to describe what the Westvleteren 12 tasted like would be like trying to describe how air feels in your lungs, how the earth smells after a rain, or how a cave sounds in utter silence. These are things that are undescribable, and as I sat there enjoying my beer, I realized in my gleeful state that sometimes it is what is inside the Grail that makes it worth the quest.