I reached Bhimtal with a very packed weekend itinerary. There was boating to squeeze in, a couple of vistas I wanted to explore and a list of sites close stored on my phone. I’d even figured out how long I could hang at each stop. It seemed to be organised, at least on paper.
The weather had different plans. By late afternoon the sky had turned gloomy, and the hills around the lake had practically vanished behind a heavy cloud. The drizzle became a steady downpour. Boating ceased, businesses drew sheets over their displays, and everyone outside began to take cover.
I was disappointed at first. However, at the end of that evening I was quietly grateful that the rain had upset everything.
I had to leave my Bhimtal sightseeing list behind
I had wanted to explore the lake’s perimeter before a boat excursion at twilight. The first few raindrops seemed okay so I kept walking. Within minutes the rain was hard enough to wet my shoes and make the road sparkle beneath passing headlights.
It wasn’t some huge choice. I just ditched the plan, stuffed my phone back in my pocket and raced into the nearest cafe.
It was odd, but that’s when the evening started to improve. Instead of fretting over the next attraction, I eventually sat down and watched the weather transform Bhimtal.
Bhimtal’s lake looked very different with the rain
I sat beside the cafe window and could still see part of Bhimtal Lake. The boats had come back to the beach, and the hills, which normally appeared clear, had disappeared in veils of mist. Every several minutes the scenery changed. Sometimes you could see the opposite bank, and later it was gone again.
People ran by, their umbrellas out, while stray dogs huddled under awnings. The rain on the roof was loud enough to drown out much of the café discussion. There was no great excitement in this situation, but I continued watching.
If the weather had been clear, I would probably have shot a few pictures and gone on to my next site. I had nowhere else to be except in the rain.
A hot meal replaced my evening out at Bhimtal
I ordered ginger tea initially and then added a plate of vegetable pakoras when I realised that the rain was not going to cease soon. They were hot, irregularly shaped and crunchy on the edges. Just great for the weather.
I was going to try a restaurant farther away from the lake. I had a standard supper of dal, rice and vegetables at the cafe instead. It wasn’t the supper I’d researched before going, but it felt a lot more appropriate for that cold evening.
We found it to be a good idea to choose one of the hotels in Bhimtal near the lake. When the rain lightened, I had a short walk back. I didn’t have to look for transit or walk half the town with wet clothing and an umbrella that kept turning inside out.
Returning to my Bhimtal hotel did not end the evening
Getting to the hotel early would normally have felt like losing a chunk of the trip. That night it didn’t.
I changed into some dry clothing, brewed another cup of tea, and sat down by the window. Now the lake was partly submerged, although lights from the far side were dispersed across the moist surface. From time to time a car would pass on the road below. Otherwise, it had become a very still place.
It was the first time I had stopped monitoring the clock that weekend. I read a little, had a chat with the hotel staff about the area, and finally rescheduled tomorrow’s plans. Half the things on my list didn’t seem required anymore.
The next morning felt more relaxed at Bhimtal
By dawn the rain had stopped, and the air was colder, the hills standing crisp against the sky as they never had before. I didn’t try to catch up on anything I’d missed but took a leisurely walk by the lake and had breakfast nearby.
Later I still went boating but missed two additional destinations. Now there was no need to rush with the list. The night before had been a reminder that more sights do not always make for a more memorable weekend.
Final thoughts
I headed to Bhimtal for what I thought would be the customary short break in the hills with overlooks, photography and well-timed breaks. Most of it was washed out on a wet evening.
But what remained was not a lost boat journey or anything missing from my plan. It was the fog on the lake, a plate of hot pakoras, the wet roads shining under the lights, and an evening that was only fun after I’d stopped trying to manage it.
Bad weather sometimes does not ruin a trip. It just affects the experience of the location. The rain spoiled my weekend in Bhimtal, yet it was perhaps what I needed the most.
