Flying makes one hungry, aye? And thirsty. And when I say flying, I mean the real thing—floating on thin air like a bird. Taming gravity as if it were merely a lion cub, toothless still, but already growing claws. No sudden movements, no stiffness, give up that prey-like attitude. You don’t really have to go down like a sack of potatoes unless you’re an utter klutz. A flying post was heads and this beer one was tails; we kinda tossed a coin, so here’s the drinking one. Feel free to raise your glass to our flying experience in 
As for dining and some beer sampling, Prague’s one of the best places in the world. Well, Czech gastronomy can hardly match the more celebrated cuisines, and traveling the countryside could turn into a connoisseur’s nightmare, but our capital can still hold a candle to other European cities. However, this doesn't really apply to Letňany, where Hurricane Factory is, so we headed a tad further downtown. To Palmovka, which offers a handful of microbreweries I haven’t written about yet. Including Kilián.
The name pays homage to one of the greatest Czech writers Bohumil Hrabal, who was born Bohumil Kilián in Brno (I know, Brno! Poor little fella, huh?). Fortunately for the aspiring artist, he got a chance to relocate to Prague and join the beer-soaked bohemian circles downtown, writing short stories and even novels in his unique style, sometimes described as ‘lyrical naturalism’ or ‘anecdotal stream-of-consciousness,’ capturing the specific dialect of Prague pubs and their atmosphere. Naming a brewery after him makes perfect sense, especially in the neighborhood he lived in for over two decades.
While Kilián keeps a traditional, wood‑trimmed pub vibe—and even has a cozy fireplace (you’d hardly ever enjoy it, though—the regulars have monopolized the adjacent table, and even have a watchdog, who happens to be extremely friendly and is always seeking someone to pet him, in sharp contrast to his intended role), I sincerely doubt Bohumil Hrabal would fancy the place. Too upscale, too posh for him; there are way cheaper dives around that would likely attract his kind of crowd, the kind that inspired his characters.
Besides, Hrabal was much more of a cat person. Yet the brewery seems to attract dog walkers from the vicinity—they likely have a deal with their doggos: a walk for a drink. We met at least a dozen dogs of various breeds and sizes, and all seemed pretty familiar with the place. True regulars.
Pumpkin Shot; Sour Pumpkin Ale 13°
I know it’s way past Halloween, but still, this was my first recommendation for
Bohoušek; Bohemian Pilsner 11°
The beer Hrabal would have preferred bears his pet name—Bohoušek. Smooth, balanced, just right. It is not the very best Pilsner I’ve ever drunk (this would be quite an achievement considering how many different Pilsners I’ve sampled in my life), yet it was a pretty decent lager that went great with my wild boar goulash. The perfect drink to quench a flyer's thirst, if you ask me.
Rugby Ale; Experimental Ale 9°
As the local ruggers often held the social here, they persuaded the master brewer to make them a special batch. I guess you can’t really say no to a bunch of rugby players. Or you can, but just once in a lifetime. New Zealand hops (All Blacks rule!) and beetroot (bloody hell!) are the core ingredients in this experimental brew, and you can definitely tell that from the aroma. The body is surprisingly caramelly, perhaps due to the lower alcohol content. I imagine it’s the best isotonic drink after a rugby battle.
Tlustý netopýr, Rye IPA 17°
The name translates as Fat Bat—don’t you snitch to Batman! Or perhaps do so, he might actually like it just as much as we did. The best beer of the night—dense, intensely bitter with grapefruity tones and rye aftertaste, this beer was like a fireshow for your taste buds. Provided you can actually perceive the aromas. Definitely one to recommend!
Beer cake
And here’s a bonus: a beer cake. Quite delicious, I must say.
I’d love to invite 
