The Cider of Ciders
At one point in my life, most women I knew loved their high heels, lip glosses and tote bags. Needless to say, they could tell their wines apart by their noses. The men could only talk about their Scotch as Rum/Vodka was for boys. And then there was me; lonely in a crowd, a desperate lager lover.
Beer came to me naturally. I live in Bombay and for most parts of the year it is above 30 degrees in my city. Beer has been the infallible friend (of the pocket), the instant mood lifter and the gazetted ale for all illness for many years now. The cool perspiration on the bottle, the bubbling freshness as I open the can and the foamy goodness that tops my glass; I adore it all.
Back at home, beer is a weekend ritual. We would head to a pub, open bottles of goodness and clunk clunk! Glasses cheered and the week that has gone by becomes history. In the usually overcrowded bar, my friends (the only two “beerers” I know) and I are trigger happy. All of a sudden there is laughter and suddenly an uptight employee becomes the boss of her own life. Except my squashy belly, beer is certainly therapeutic to the rest of my system, especially my head.
Not so lately, I discovered a whole new range of beer’s second cousins (okay maybe third), Ciders. Apple, pear, honey I went from bar to bar in Mumbai and devoured them all. It was love at first sight. But the best cider I had was far from home
Last year, in the spring month of February we visited New Zealand, God’s own country. As opposed to drinking in tiny bars, while being nudged and pushed and in the background of euro trash or pop music, at NZ; I could walk down with a beer in my hand, drinking on the pavement or in the garden. This kind of behaviour back in my own country inevitably attracts bad attention. So free beering atmosphere of NZ was a welcome relief for us. At Queenstown, we sipped ciders at the lawn in front of the magnificent lake, at the Waterfront cafes and while strolling on the road. But the best cider I had was 5 hours away, at Fox Glacier in the Southern NZ.
One evening, at Fox Glacier; with nothing much to do we decided to head towards a bar. At the foothills of the glacier, the temperature would by around 20 degrees and the pleasant warmth of the late setting sun was providing us with the right warmth for a chilled glass of cider.
We were driving through what seemed like a by lane to a large farm. And across the farm, on a patch of green grass stood a lonely tavern. But it wasn’t as lonely as it seemed. From the time we parked the car, we sensed the place had some buzzing energy. We walked towards the bar / eatery to be surprised by the number of people around us. Having been in NZ for about 15 days now, we started to get used to being alone or surrounded by sheep, but people? Happy surprise!
We placed an order for two ciders and took our chairs outside the tavern facing the field. Once again, the solitude of acres and acres of land started to settle in. We looked at the serenity that lay in front of us. The glacier topped mountain, the enormous paddy field, the peaceful meditative sheep and this beautiful eatery. I tried to slip into my meditative state as soon as I held my apple cider in my hand. To my surprise, I kept looking back into the tavern to see cheerful people, smiling, laughing even, children playing peek – a – boo, mothers urging them to settle down, a group of grandpas chatting about good ol’ days and chefs piping some hot food. All of them happy, glee, content with my sparkling wonder drink in their hands.
I was in the happiest place that I know; nature unfolded it’s treasures as it started to drizzle gently. People moved away from the pavement, I sat there even more firmly. I watched as nature charmed me. I knew I had backing. Backing of my poeple. So what if I didn’t know them. They are my kind, my species and they are right here behind me. I loved the hustle I heard. And lastly, I loved my sparkling bottle of apples and everything nice that has been spreading joy and hope in so many lives.
That day I came to a realization : We all love serenity, pointless calm even but at the end of the day we are just a bunch of social animals; aren’t we? We couldn’t wait to get back home!
Spirited Poetess 