Pumpernickel Rishikesh - The Coffee Giraffe

Though the British considered tea to be thé drink of the moment in the 60s, I like to think that the Beatles drank a cup of coffee on the same grounds as the Giraffe in spiritual Rishikesh. Last summer was an Indian summer for me. It is a different place - the country of colors and spices, elephants, peacocks and mama’s who put their babies on your lap in busses (yup, really).

I am no fan of the India-changed-me-deeply kind of traveller - 3 weeks of backpack carrying and chai tea is not going to transform you into a descendent of the Dalai Lama. But admitted, I share Ringo and Lennon’s admiration for the Indian culture of altruism, collectivism, trust in nature and religion.

What does all this mean for coffee places in Rajasthan, the ancient northern part of India housing Taj Mahal and the Himalayas? In most Indian cafés the coffee-water dosing is very bad and the water quality changes a fine filter coffee into a bitter, sour mess. But things are different when you enter the Beatles’-beloved Rishikesh, also known as the birthplace of yoga.

When me and my friend Jack entered “Pumpernickel”, it felt a bit like coming home after 3 weeks of adapting in the wild. Did that note really say soy-milk? And did I see Vegan on the menu? Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally OK with cow milk and full fat pastries, but Pumpernickel is a gem for lost Western hippies who need to recharge and get rid of their homesickness. The name is a German word for rye bread, which is odd cause they didn’t really market any rye bread. But then again, Indians don’t do marketing in general; When Jack and I asked the Nepalese guy behind the counter for his speciality, he did the same jolly thing as all Indian café owners: he started to read aloud the entire menu with a Formula One inspired speed and an adorable, proud smile. We walked through the slightly unpleasant darkness inside into the light and that is where the place gets magical. The view from the bamboo balcony of the misty Ganga is incredible. FYI, this river is the dirtiest one in the world. Nevertheless, you don’t smell it from afar and it is a breathtaking, quiet, mystical picture to look at.

Jack and I both ordered a foamy cappuccino which satisfied all criteria for a good coffee of Western standards: fine roast, the right proportions, just warm enough and a cute next level latte art bear in the foamy top layer. The yoghurts and vegan pastries were also very fine if I may believe the Belgian travel companions we chatted with during our visit. I remember the feeling of sipping the brown gold while immersing in the escapist landscape. Of breathing-in the mountain air, while Jack received some typical unsolicited life advise from an Indian guy who took a seat on our table.

It’s a thankful phenomenon when the familiar and the foreign melt together. After ordering a second cappuccino, we paid an incredibly low number of rupees and left with a renewed feeling. Oh deer, am I turning into one of those India-changed-me-deeply kind of travellers?

Joe for now,

Pumpernickel - Rishikesh

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