When Fernando first drove into Waterville Valley in 2016, someone had told him about a small community — one way in, one way out — where a restaurant space had sat empty. He and his team walked in, looked around the kitchen, admired the bar upstairs, and thought: why not? Half the valley expected them to be gone by spring. Nine years later, the Valley Pub is still open seven days a week.
That story of unlikely perseverance is at the heart of the first episode of Waterville Unwrapped, the new community podcast hosted by Charlie and Ken. Their guests are Fernando and Alex, the owner and bartender of the Valley Pub — two men who came to New Hampshire from Mexico by very different routes and found, somewhat to their own surprise, that they didn’t want to leave.
From New York to the White Mountains
Fernando grew up in New York after immigrating from Mexico at age twelve. He spent his working years at a hospital, using long weekends for camping trips around the state. It was his father — working at his uncle’s restaurant in Moultonborough, and later in Lincoln — who kept calling and coaxing him north. “He’s the one that told me to come to New Hampshire and see the sceneries, the rivers, and the woods,” Fernando recalls. The landscape was a revelation after decades in the city.
When the opportunity came to take over the space where Hacienda had operated — then known as Diamond’s Edge, selling Italian food — Fernando saw potential, especially in the bar. “We loved the one upstairs, because we saw the bar the way it was,” he says. Opening a restaurant in a seasonal mountain community and committing to seven-days-a-week hours, 11 AM to 9 PM, was greeted with skepticism. “Everybody thought that we were just going to last the first winter.” Spring came, then summer, then another winter. He stayed.
Alex Arrives Post-COVID
Alex’s path was more recent. He was living in Puebla, Mexico — south of Mexico City — when Fernando’s cousin, his best friend, called in 2021 and asked for help at the pub. Alex had also lived in New Jersey, where the Spanish-speaking community made the transition from Mexico relatively smooth. Waterville Valley was a different kind of adjustment entirely.
“I was not the best speaking the language. It was a bit hard at the beginning,” Alex says. He started as a server, navigating an enormous menu — 180 items, as he pointedly reminded Fernando, who by his own admission had to relearn his own menu when he shifted more time to the pub. What helped was the patience of the regulars. “People is really nice,” Alex says. “They were patient.”
Wildlife, Waterfalls, and a Broken Collarbone
What neither of them expected was how quickly Waterville Valley’s outdoor life would take hold. Alex discovered hiking, starting with a few local trails before working up to Green Peak, and then Schwendi Hutte, and eventually Mount Tecumseh. He also taught himself to ski — falling repeatedly, nursing a sore body, going back the next day because “there’s nothing else to do around right now.” The learning curve had a memorable conclusion: a fall on his birthday that broke his collarbone. “The first thing that I thought was, this is how 24 feels like. I don’t like it.”
There have been wildlife encounters too. A baby bear on a trail sent Alex waiting thirty minutes at a bridge, unwilling to follow it down the path home. A late-night drive on Route 49 brought him face to face with a moose in the road — “from nowhere, it was like… it was in front of me at the moment.” He swerved, and nothing happened, but the size of the animal still sticks with him. “I never imagined what huge he would be.”
The Real Talk: Hockey Weekends and Staffing
The conversation turns candid when Charlie raises what he calls “the dirty secret” of Waterville Valley’s economy: hockey weekends. The tournament traffic is a significant revenue driver, but Fernando describes a persistent frustration — teams arrive without reservations, expect immediate seating for groups that keep growing, and the pub has no advance visibility into who is coming or when.
“They don’t even know sometimes how many people are going to come in,” Fernando says. His suggestion is straightforward: better coordination between whoever runs the hockey scheduling and the local restaurants. A simple reservation link on the hockey website, he argues, could change the dynamic entirely. “It’s communication that, until now, we don’t have.”
On staffing, the story is familiar to anyone who has talked to a Waterville Valley business owner. The commute, the lack of transportation, the seasonal swings — Fernando has learned to manage by being able to cover the kitchen or the front of house himself, giving staff time off during the slow stretches. But he sees a longer-term solution in something like a regular bus connection between Waterville Valley and Plymouth.
Foliage, Stars, and the Calmness of the Valley
Beneath the business challenges, both men are clearly rooted in the place itself. Fernando talks about the foliage the way someone talks about something they still can’t quite believe. “When you’re right at the peak, it’s just unbelievable.” He also mentions the stars — visible on clear nights when he steps outside, so thick and bright they make him dizzy. Alex describes bike rides to waterfalls and the slow pleasure of watching the valley change through all four seasons.
“I love this place,” Alex says simply. “It’s very quiet. It’s like in the middle of nowhere, which I like it.”
The Alpine Advent event in Town Square, which Fernando promoted on social media, brought visitors from Plymouth, Moultonborough, Lincoln, and the Concord area — proof, he says, that the valley can draw people when the word gets out. He hopes it returns next year, bigger and better planned.
The full conversation — including Fernando and Alex’s takes on the Valley Pub’s two menus, the story of closing Hacienda, and a spirited discussion about a margarita-themed pedal bike — is available here: Listen to the full episode. Follow the Valley Pub on Instagram and Facebook for updates.