In Carib country, the advertisement proudly boasts, a beer is a Carib. The brewer cleverly honors Trinidad's heritage while elevating the beer from product to icon. In a similar fashion, the people of a small town in beer-loving Belgium, have tied their heritage to the locally-produced beer. But in this case, the inhabitants of Dinat in the rustic Ardennes mountains, named themselves after Cogere, the mildly tangy beer so popular in these parts. It's the ultimate compliment in a country where beer drinking is almost an avocation.

The Cogeres are proud to be called that, and even prouder of their beer. It reminds everyone who they are. As a marketing tool, it's one hundred percent effective: name recognition of the product is total among the population. The beer of any region in Belgium is like a local sports team. It arouses strong passions and demands total loyalty. It's always the drink of choice, and outsells imports from other regions, and abroad. Like the ruddy waters of the Maerce, the river that flows past Dinat through Holland and into the North Sea, Cogere beer is part of the town's personality.

Like a Carib in the hand of a Trinidadian, Cogere is a powerful symbol. It defines Dinat. When I went looking for cheese in a Dinat delicatessen once, I tried to buy a bottle of Cogere. The sales clerk couldn't speak English, and my French was flimsy at best. For a few minutes we miscommunicated enormously. We would have gone on forever, had I not decided to boldly reach into his showcase for the bottle of Cogere that was stacked among a basket of cured meats. I displayed the Cogere and indicated I wanted one like it, cold. The clerk burst out laughing.

Just as quickly, he turned apologetic. With a patois of signs and unrecognisable English words, he convinced me that the beer was only for show. His store couldn't sell beer - I presume because he didn't have a license or something like that. I started to ask him for directions to some other place but couldn't remember anything Clive Borely had taught me in French class in Fatima. I decided to try my own luck. Halfway down the street I ran into Chris Brooks, a fellow traveler, and, believe it or not, a journalist who at the time was working for "All About Beer", a trade magazine for brewers. Chris, was carrying a shopping bag with beer that he had bought in the supermarket. Since those were not cold, we returned to the bus that was waiting to take us back to the Jolly Atlanta Hotel in Brussels.

We put the Cogere in the refrigerator to chill, settled in for the hour's ride, and began to talk about beer. Because of places like Dinat, Chris told me, Belgium is the perfect country for a beer lover to visit. Most small towns in Belgium brew their own brand of beer, so the variety is almost endless. Places to drink beer are more abundant than the small shops where Belgians go to eat their favourite snack, French fries and mayonnaise. Here, you will find beer that tastes like almost anything else you have ever put into your mouth.
Several of the fruity beer, for instance, remind you of apricots, berries or apple. Some beer are even spicy and hot. And others, like the Trappiste beer made by the monks who inhabit this land, are pungent and tangy. Since the 12th century, the monks have brewed what's considered to be the most intriguing beer. Trappiste beer tends to be earthy, herbal even, and sometimes wheaty. Although there are five genuine Trapps, as the beer produced by the monks are called, many people suspect the monks share yeast secrets because of the similarity of taste in their beer. Wild yeast is popular among Belgian brewers, so much of the beer is brown, like Stella Artois, the national best seller. But the Julipers, or blond colored beer, which has a hoppy taste and a dry palette, can be found in many regions.

Since the yeast that's used is alive, beer here can last almost indefinitely, and even improve over time. The best guide for visitors, my friend Chris told me, is to look for what the locals of any region enjoy. Belgian beer is also stronger than Carib or the Jamaican Red Stripe, or most any other beer for that matter. When the Government banned the serving of spirits in cafes in 1919, Belgians responded by brewing their beer with a higher alcohol content. British brewers export to Belgium a stronger beer than what's produced for their domestic market. Even Heineken, probably the favourite beer in the world, is brewed in Belgium with the native taste in mind.

In the 1980s, there are 125 breweries in Belgium, although only seven brewing groups control 75 percent of the country's beer. These seven and the other small breweries around the country produce nearly 400 brands of beer. That's a lot more than can be found in the other two major beer producing nations of the world; West Germany and Great Britain. But the way Belgians drink beer, it hardly seems enough.