A Beer Hunt in Nainital

27.10.2010 - 27.10.2010

We’d also read that the illusive steak restaurant that we’d now travelled two days to find had wifi internet so we set off. The plan was to have breakfast there, do some interneting and pick our steak for that evening. After just a few minutes walk we found it and couldn’t believe our luck.
“Hi, do you have breakfast?”
“No”
“Do you internet”
“No sorry sir”
“Please tell me you do steaks”
He gave me the Indian head wobble.
“Was that a yes or a no?”
“No sir no steak”
Our 48 hour quest was over – mission failed. We picked up some cheese toasties on the way back to the hotel. So still no meat, no wifi, and no reliable source of beer.
At the hotel Noel told us excitingly that there was a bar at the top of the mountain and it was far enough away from the mosque to be able to sell beer. Even better, there was a cable car that would take us straight to it. “Fancy a lunch-timer?”. Noel has names for drinking sessions at any time of the day. 9am-11am = refresher,
11am – 12 noon = liquid brunch,
12 noon – 3pm = lunch timer,
3pm-7pm = sun downer,
7pm onwards = a few beers, which is rarely a few beers.
We headed to the cable car. Noel was excited “at last an easy supply of beer”. Cable cars strike terror into my soul but I had to take one for the team.

The scenery from the top was amazing, a volcanic lake cupped in a crater of mountains.

Huge circles of bubbles rose like crop circles in the water. Air was pumped in to airate the water, keeping it clean and promoting fish numbers. “How very un-indian of them” said Noel, “where do they pump all their shit and rubbish, it’s a perfectly good lake for that”.
We exited the cable car and walked into the snow view bar. “Five beers please” said Noel with a triumphant grin on his face.
“Beer finish” replied the barman
“What? No Beer? This is a bar isn’t it?” argued Noel
“We have rum”
Our lunch timer dreams shattered we went across the road for fried rice and aloo. As we ate the stall owner came out and talked to us. He leaned in low looking left and right like a spy behind enemy lines, “You want beer?” He whispered.
“Yes!”
“Cheap beer?”
“Yes yes”
“I know a place”
He gave us directions to his secret source and said we should pay no more than 80 rupees. We were delighted, but this time cautious.
Heading down the mountain we followed our treasure map directions to the letter, which led us to a small window in the side of a building with rough iron bars. “This can’t be it” I said, “it’s next door to the bloody mosque!”
A guy appeared at the window.
“Do you sell beer?” we asked.
“Yes how many?” he said sheepishly
It was ice cold and cost 70 rupees per can. We walked back victorious with our secret stash wrapped in newspaper and hidden from the public view.
The beer came just in time. This would be our last night with Noel and Dan. We’d spent 8 weeks with them. We’d seen some amazing things and shared great times with them.
We drank beers, listened to music and talked crap all night. A fitting way to end our over landing adventure with them.