After a series of flights (#budget #backpackers #whyohwhyohwhy) from Sri Lanka, on one of which we somehow managed to get three different boarding passes printed for the same flight, Will and I arrived in Goa and hopped in a taxi up to Morjim, the northern party beach where we had a few nights’ accommodation booked over New Years’.
“Subcontinent” is right: India is truly vast. We were expecting to jump right back into the hassly, loud, smelly city-India that we had left just over a week before, but Goa seems like a totally different country to everything else we’ve experienced in India thus far. It’s got surprising Portuguese undertones, with Christian churches and European architecture. Rather than rivers of sewage, it has the ocean, which isn’t nearly as dirty as expected. It has sandy beaches and hippies and hostels, which is definitely a first in India – everywhere else we’ve only been able to find guesthouses and cheap hotels. And it has a bizarre abundance of Russians. Everywhere you turn there are scary square-cut fringes and right-angled men in speedos, it’s really odd.
We were lucky enough to be stationed in a fab hostel overflowing (literally – there were several sleeping on the roof) with fun people, including some gals from Sydney whom we actually have connections with! The ‘small world’ phenomenon has been hitting me harder than ever over here – we did a day trip into Arambol, a slightly larger and even hippy-er beach just north of Morjim, and got tapped on the shoulder by an Israeli friend we met in Udaipur. On New Years we had a boozy dinner with an interesting Canadian couple who had been to fourteen different countries in 8 weeks, and our Aussie galpals, which proved to be too boozy for some of us (me, #repeatofmy18th, #oneyearlater #embarrassing). I called it a night early, and woke up in the morning to discover Will not in his bunk! I wandered down to the beach to grab a bite to eat and discovered a very disheveled Willbur wading into the sea with some Japanese-Swedes. Seems like he partied hard enough for us both!
On the morning of the 2nd, my birthday, we decided to up and move south to more chilled out, quiet beaches. The journey to Palolem was to take 4 bus rides and about 5 hours, so we were prepared for a long bumpy journey full of bum sweat and Hindi music. What we were not prepared for was for a truck to crash into our bus as we went round a corner… Luckily no one was seriously injured but it was very scary to be in a crash on Indian roads, given how many people die every year on them. In the kerfuffle loading off the busted bus and onto a new one, Willy’s daypack including his DSLR camera and my laptop somehow got left on the side of the road… we had a very stressful few hours including Will getting on a random’s motorbike to get to the bus depot before, against all odds, he found the bag and all was well again! After all the terrible stories we’ve heard about theft (one guy got his mobile phone stolen by a cop… who do you report that to?) I wasn’t sure we were going to get it back but looks like Ganesh decided to give me a birthday present of amazing luck this year!
Palolem has been even prettier than Morjim, and much more chilled out. We have lounged on sunbeds, stalked down Disney-channel stars, ridden a motorbike to a tiny adjoining beach called Agonda and feasted on salad – GOD BLESS SALAD. On both mornings here I wandered 30 metres from our hut to the beach and saw the sun rise, and I’ve decided this is where I’ll come when I’m having a mid-life crisis, divorced and fat, to write my Great Australian Novel. You can rent a hut here for 10,000 rupees a month (about AUD$200), and I have to tell you it’s pretty tempting. In the morning, before the Russians and the henna-painting, sarong-selling touts descend, it’s poetry-peaceful down here. That is, except for the three local dudes who followed me halfway up the beach for my photo, #celeblyf. The sea is so much warmer than the tap-n-bucket ‘shower’ in our room. There are yogis, some of whom look like they’re just walking the Egyptian, and some of whom look like your headphone wires after they’ve been in your pocket for a couple of hours. It is tempting to stay forever but there is just too much to see! Today we’re heading down towards Gokarna, another beach in the adjoining state of Karnataka, for a few days. My addiction to Shantaram is also probably going to lead us towards Mumbai for a day or two before Varanasi.
Vodka and vindaloo,
PT
Russians #amirite
Typical accommodation on Palolem
Motorbike selfies?
inneedofdirections 