They just would not let him get on the plane. The staff at the check-in desk at the airport had only to take one look at him to not let him progress any further.

He was red faced, slurred of speech and moving with that degree of deliberateness which is often displayed by the extremely drunk.

He picked up, with difficulty, his flight bag, and staggered off somewhere – presumably to sober up.

I can only assume that he eventually caught a later plane.

This is not a unique happening and I’m sure many of you will have witnessed similar scenes when you’ve been stuck in a queue waiting to get hold of your boarding pass.

I don’t know how long he’d been in the airport, but I suspect that he’d spent much of it in one of its many bars.

In retrospect, I suppose that it was a good job that he was too drunk to get on the plane.

He might well have ended up in a seat near mine, downing numerous little bottles of spirits which are on sale on every plane.

And it could be that, had he been totally alcoholically obstreperous, the pilot might even have flown back to the airport to have him ejected from the plane.

I would have been more than a little annoyed.

Have you ever had to put up with the antics of fellow passengers who’ve downed too many little bottles of plonk during a flight?

Do the airlines have to sell alcoholic drinks on their planes?

Whenever drink is involved it is quite usual for it to be accompanied by problems – social and personal.

Victorians, from our perspective, often seem to be obsessed with “the evils of drink.”

I once mentioned this to an elderly friend who hailed from Anglesey.

He told me of conversations he’d had with his grandmother about this.

She told him of the misery of the many wives whose husbands were drunkards and wastrels.

They had to somehow cope when the husband came home on payday after first being in the pub.

This state of affairs was quite common throughout the country.

In late Victorian times, some of the publicans in Workington were, reportedly, only too keen to get just-paid workers into their establishments.

They’d have the best looking of their barmaids standing in the pub doorway inviting passers-by to step inside and spend their money.

In 1870 Workington, there were plenty of places to sup ale.

The town had 60 licensed premises for a population of only 8,000. That’s about one for every 133 persons – men, women and children.

Quite how many establishments there were before that, I don’t know.

Another entry for my to-be-researched file!

Many of these licensed premises would have sold beer only.

If you had been around at this time, lived in Workington and paid your rates, you might well have been tempted to start up a beerhouse in your own home, courtesy of the Beerhouse Act of 1830.

All you had to do was to make a one-off payment of two guineas.

You could, if you wished, have also brewed your own beer.

Knowing how small many houses were in the 19th century, I do wonder just where these home brewers found to do their brewing and selling.

But people will always find space if they really want to.

I can remember the home brewing craze of about 20 or so years ago.

I do know that some enthusiasts opted to take over their bathrooms and use their baths to store their self-created noxious brews.

So what did any of these brews taste of?

I don’t know – I was never stupid enough to taste any of them.

This Victorian DIY arrangement came to an end in 1869.

So were any of your Victorian ancestors DIY brewers or beer sellers?

I don’t know what local temperance leaders would have thought of them.

Their existence must have been objected to by certain of their teetotal neighbours.

It was a time when many people were concerned about the evils of drink.

Victorians were already concerned that drunkenness was increasing among women.

If you wanted a laugh in 1891, you could have gone to Station Road, Workington, to watch policemen carting – in a handcart – a number of hopelessly inebriated females off to the police station.

It was at that time, reportedly, a regular Saturday night entertainment for passing spectators.

And all because of the demon drink!