We all know how much a pint is - 568ml right? Not, in the Leather Bar.
Funnily enough though, they do know how to charge as though it is a pint – they also know how to promote it as such, in their menu.
This is not some exotic, imported beer, mind, this is your old faithful Kingfisher. Their definition of a “Tamil pint”? A 330ml, standard bottle.
The six-strong staff in the near-empty boutique bar, with leather on the floor and suede on the walls – complete with cool lounge, House beats – are clearly well versed in explaining this apparent anomaly, to those tourists who dare query it.
“You know the pint as a larger glass – but the Tamil pint is smaller,” the barman says, with no hint of irony, along with the customer-friendly smile, that stays fixed whenever he is “on stage”.
And the price? 400Rupees/nearly £4 – am I back in Birmingham?. I don’t mind paying my way, but I don’t like being misled. We’d paid R185 for the same bottle at a similar boutique hotel across town, the night before.
Inevitably, we were offered two subsequent “pints”, but instead asked for the bill and left. We are clearly not the kind of clientele they aim themselves at, ie. not business people, travelling on expense accounts, who don’t have time to compare prices, or probably the inclination.
Fair enough – we’ll just head to Hotel Ranjith, just down the street – R700 for four large beers, not R800 for two small bottles.