Benaulim - it is noisy

We awake to find that our new home is clean, well maintained and ideal for our needs, if not a bit green! The exploration of Benaulim starts with a 10 minute walk to the beach and breakfast at the only open beach bar, Pedro’s. We enjoy the beach for a while, savouring the moment. Walking back we stop to pick up groceries from both the supermarket and the greengrocer. It being the monsoon, all the tourist related places are closed up and we are living in a normal working Goan seaside town.

After collecting the basics, of hiring a scooter, establishing where to shop, finding our way to the nearest city (Margao), we settle into a routine. We also start to meet some other longtermers, as the ex-pats out here are known, who are in turn, very friendly and helpful if sometimes overly critical of our mistakes (“you paid how much for that?” - the difference usually being about 50p! Also the question of laundry comes up (finally, I here you cry!). This is solved by the arrival of the cleaning lady for our apartment. For 1.50 pounds a week we have our apartment swabbed (floors swept and mopped - all the floors here are tiled) and our laundry is washed by hand in a succession of buckets - arms of a docker, our cleaning lady.

Paul has his first accident - see new blog feature “Injury of the week”

****INJURY OF THE WEEK****
Whilst moving the scooter at approximately 1km per hour down a monsoon soaked alley, there is a slip and the scooter (with Paul on it) comes to rest on his flip flop clad left foot, more specifically, his 4th toe. Being the foolhardy lad that he is, he recovers and continues on his mission to buy mushrooms only rinsing out the mud soaked scrape on his return. As we now know, all cuts and scrapes during the monsoon are almost certain to turn septic. As you can see from the photos, Paul’s did this and so much more leading to repeated visits to the very helpful and experienced Dr Myron for minor if painful surgeries on his toe (I will spare you the details, dear reader) as well as the ingestion of veterinary sized medication.
INJURY OF THE WEEK ENDS

With the tourist season approaching, the bars and restaurants are opening one by one to take advantage of monsoon travellers, both foreign and domestic. We take it upon ourselves in the name of research to try as many of these as we can. This takes us on a rollercoaster of excellent food, appalling toilets and vice versa with the occasional rare combination of both good food and acceptable toilets.

The monsoon itself, whilst according to locals is a bad monsoon by which they mean it isn’t raining anywhere near enough seems to us to be the odd few days of dramatic rain and wind followed by extended periods of tropical sunshine. The rain at its peak will bring everything to a halt which means if you haven’t stocked up on comestibles, you go without which is where we discovered the word “parcel” which means take-away. Yes, the Corcoran’s have found take-aways in India!

Monsoon tip - if you are out on the scooter and a few drops of rain fall, stop and put on your waterproof that you have to carry everywhere - it won’t just be a passing shower!! In fact, in about 30 seconds, it will feel like the sky is falling down!

After a couple of weeks we have our first adventure which involves a day trip to Palolem in the south. We go by scooter along the country roads passing through all the small towns, including the fort at Cabo de Rama (remember that Genine and Allen?!). We arrive at commercialised Palolem where even in the closed season, the tat shops and touts are everywhere. The bay itself is picturesque and our walk along the crescent beach is spoilt only by the attentions of beach sellers. After a pleasant lunch, we head back up the highway this time where we discover the national rule of wearing a crash helmet on the highway. Paul is achingly polite to the policeman who stops him, smiling all the while he is producing all the required documentation. When a fine of 100 rupees (standard) is levelled, Paul politely pays and then asks for a receipt. This is met with much ruffling of papers, official police like mumbling ending with the return of the 100 rupee fine and a “warning” not to do it again.

The apartment we are living in is located above two shops and the apartment across the landing lives somewhere between 8 and 11 teenage boys who are trainees at the Ramada (pronounces Rammadda and spoken really quickly) hotel in Fatrade. As is the custom over here, all shoes are left outside the house. Unfortunately the picture cannot convey the rather unpleasant aroma. Another custom over here is to have your television on as loud as possible and leave your front door open. Next door is a night spot called Fiplees. This is a large and busy concern catering to both business functions and weddings and is a great place to have a beer and something to eat. It is unfortunately not a great place to live next door to at midnight. The music was loud and the beeping of hooters of taxis and scooters coming and going was louder still. As you may know, all drivers in Goa have a Tourette’s like attachment to their horn button, especially the 05:30 bus driver as he passes by our apartment. The other side of the apartment is the hotel Failaka which is being renovated. Chatting to the owner, we discover that in the season there will be live music every night.

The search for a new apartment begins.

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