My dearest Connaught Place bar is no more. Steeped in another time, it welcomed the big and small and let us linger for hours with our Old Monks. On wintry Delhi nights, the light and dark of its great hall evoked the setting of a Cold War spy thriller - a hard-jawed man in a trenchcoat and top hat would walk in through its heavy oakwood door and get the table at the corner. He had the slippery eyes of a reptile and he hadn't taken off his trenchcoat even though it was warm inside ... RIP Volga Restaurant and Bar
(Beer image courtesy Stock.xchng)
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