Sun, Sun and a tropical thunderstorm

Ive found paradise and paradise is a place called Goa!!!
After the 14-hour bus trip from Mumbai, 35c warm weather, beautiful sandy beaches, palm trees and beachfront shacks that serve cold beer are just the tonic you need.
Driving out of Mumbai was great fun. We stopped every 30 seconds to pick up more passengers or to allow the food and water wallahs onboard. At one stage I actually thought it might be wise to start writing my last will and testament as it felt that I would probably be spending my last days onboard this so called “luxury” bus.

We finally arrived at 9am and I jumped off in Mapusa with a French guy, Claude, who was also travelling on the bus. It was time to say goodbye to Anna as she was travelling further south to Kerala. Claude and I jumped into a taxi and headed for South Calangute where we found a small guest house with the most beautiful tropical garden I have ever seen…… I wasn’t really interested in the room, I let Claude check that out while I perused the glut of exotic plants growing in the garden. Our guest house is also located just 1 minute from the beach where we have been spending the last few days just chilling and eating breakfast while listening to the sound of the waves crashing on to the beach, ahhh this beats getting up at 6am and going to work in the freezing cold Swedish March weather, ive heard that it below freezing there right now…brrrr… I think I know where I would rather be J
The only down side to all this is having to put up with the occasional fat German tourist in his G string …… blahhh ….. and why do they always have to turn up just when you have started eating??? To watch some of the tourists here is also quite amusing. This area seems to attract the 50 something typical beer bellied British beer boy and his 20 stone wife who spend the day laying in the sun until they go bright red, wobbling up and down the beach and drinking beer. Then you get the over 50s womens groups who are out on the hunt each evening and finally you have all the “Yaa….far out” hippies who have all congregated here, but don’t seem to really know why. All they seem to do is sit around, play with each others hair and cover each other in Henna tattooes.

Getting away from the constant begging and sales patter in Mumbai was quite a relief, although this is replaced in Goa by the constant hails of “Taxi” wherever you go. Realistically, if your going to do quite a bit of travelling round Goa, then its definitely more economical to hire a scooter and go where you want to go. Taxi prices vary horrendously. To get us into Baga which lays about 4km North of Calangute, we were quoted between 75 and 250 Rs, some of these guys will do anything to part you with your money!!!

Baga, is most definitely the place to go out and have some fun in this part of Goa, having a few good nightclubs and bars. One club called Mambos near the beach has a couple’s policy and unless you have a girl on your arm then you get hammered with an enormous entry fee, at least by Indian standards. It was quite humorous watching hundreds of Indian guys standing outside ready to pounce on any single girl or girls who just happened to walk by. Claude and I had already met 2 Finnish girls, so we entered Mambos and spent the evening with them partying away on the air conditioned dance floor, comparing our red sunburn patches and generally having a pop at the Swedes. Even more entertaining was watching sad, middle-aged English women tourists, feeding themselves to young Indian men……
We went back to Baga on Saturday night and it was pumping! Many Indians are on holiday here in Goa at the moment celebrating Holi, which is the Hindu spring festival. Quite simply everybody spends the weekend running round chucking coloured powder and water, at and over everybody!!! Thankfully I got off lightly as it’s a sod to get out of your clothing. We tried Mambos again in the evening, being as we were on our own, Claude trying to convince the ticket guy that we were gay so that we could get in for the couples price……it didn’t work, we probably were not convincing enough!
Goa really is a revelation although things have apparently changed over the last few years. Anjuna was once the place to be and with the exception of a few parties that are arranged a few days in advanced it is now mainly dead, although the beach is very nice. Things do take a turn for the better on Wednesdays though as Anjuna is host to a huge flea market, selling everything from jewellery to all possible items of clothing. Most things can be bought for next to nothing although some traders do make some serious attempts to totally rip people off.
I decided to move up to Mandrem in Northern Goa as the beach there is one of the only ones left that is virtually untouched by tourism. There is a huge beach here or more of a sand bar and you can walk for miles with the palms as a backdrop and with the warm water crashing over your feet.
Goa is also a great place for extreme sports enthusiasts. Forget bungee jumping or base jumping, try driving on Goan roads on a motorbike after dark and you will know the meaning of fear!!! It seems that every living creature here has some kind of morbid desire to hinder your progress or even maim you. Dogs who lay in the middle of the road are one of the biggest dangers, they seem to prefer sharp bends too, so you have no chance of seeing them until the last moment. Cats, chickens, pigs and goats also do their best to cause an accident, however it is the cows who tend to congregate in huge flocks that cause the biggest problems. In India, the cow is holy and if one should inadvertently jump in front of you and you hit it, then you could face big fines or even up to 2 years in prison.
So, after some serious deliberation, ive come up with a great Goa survival kit which should consist of the following:-
1) A t-shirt that says “ If I want a bloody Taxi I will ask for one” printed on it,
2) A pair of sunglasses that block out mens bottoms in g-strings, and
3) Full body armour, should you find yourself bearing down on a member of the bovine community and find yourself swerving into a ditch, into the back of a lorry or over a cliff.
I really don’t want to leave this place, I could honestly spend the next 3 months here, heck, Id gladly spend my last days here, however I think its time to move on now. My next stop is the beautiful backwaters of Kerala and then on to Madurai and Madras for some typical South Indian food…….

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