Beach Blanket Baga-lon!

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So we arrived in Goa, a stunning sunny tropical which was a breath of fresh air after the smog-fog of Delhi. On the highway in from the airport, we were overcome by the palm trees and the gentle slap of the ocean on the beach below, the sun shining on our weary heads, our sweet natured driver Remen who is called Raymond. It was truly paradise. Frankie's words from earlier that afternoon echoed in our ears, uttered before he fell up the stairs getting onto our Spicejet flight: "Good times, here we come! Thump Thump! Oof."

(Before I descend into the ridiculousness that was Baga Beach, I have to note (one of the many) curious phenomenon of Indians, that being We Don't Believe in the Concept of Lines. All over India, North and South, Indians will walk to the middle of a line of people and just stand there. When one calls them on it, in a Disbelieving Tone, the cutter smirks or smiles apologetically and then pulls back just long enough until the upset party is ahead. I have also perfected my Stare of Disbelief (aka Evil Eye a la Pooj) which seems to work as well. To be honest however, I can't figure out if We Don't Believe in the Concept of Lines (WDBitCoL) is a mere footnote in the much larger and more popular We Don't Believe in Personal Space (WDBiPS). Gentle reader, we can be sure that this is not to be confused with We Will Stand and Stare Until We Feel Like Stopping (WWSaSUWFLS). I will undertake further investigation.)

So, when I chose to stay in Baga, my research did mention that Baga was one of the more "developed" of all of the Goa areas. I did not understand that "developed" was actually code for "Trashy Trash, teeming with Eurotrash". It was stunning - Vivek asked the question we were all afraid to ask: "Why did we come to India to see white people?" Why, indeed. After mishaps that included leaving half our party bereft in the airport and a missing taxi, we all settled for a few days of bad food, interesting interpretations of "service" and beautiful beaches, with kingfishers for everyone except the little mom to be.

Day 1 was relaxing around beers, day 2 the boys got motorbikes and headed up north and the girls went and read indian chick magazines on the beach with the most interesting hustlers ("madame, can I wipe your sunglasses?"), and day 3, the boys got motorbikes again before Vivek ran into a ditch with the help of some lunatic driver.

Day 4 - on to Chennai! Madras!

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Photos

All the Street Signs Rhymed in Goa
But I was only able to snap one, as all of our drivers were schooled in kamakazi first.

Comments

[Jen]

I love it!
You definitely have the gift of storytelling, my friend. I wish I was there with ya! Keep having fun and keep bloggin'! Miss you!!