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Published: January 7th 2012
I am writing this blog on a rattling 14hr train journey heading south to Kochin, Kerela. It's pandemonium around us, with plenty of staring and head wobbles, but we do have a small bunk with a curtain. So forgive me if I waffle on..........
...I just saw a mouse!
Hawkers, Gawkers, and Russian Roulette at Christmas.
After only three days in sleepy Cavelossim, South Goa, we were on the move again. We would have stayed longer, but the accommodation was already booked. Still not never normal after food poisoning, we took a taxi to the boisterous, booming and brash town of Baga, North Goa...
Luckily for nicetaximan, and friend, the two passengers in the back managed not to barf after every bump@?#!. We passed through small villages and settlements with huge bright white churches? ..Probably the most influential event throughout Goan history, the effects of which are still evident today, was the coming of the Portuguese in 1510. They controlled the spice trade and brought Christianity to Goa. So needless-to-say there are many brightly decorated Portuguese buildings, and, little Indian men called 'Paul' or 'John'.
(I wondered, if we were to make a church appearance, whether Pugboat would put the 'Body of Christ' in her pocket again, like when we went to St Mary Redcliffe years ago! "what else do I do with it?", she blurted 😉...it didn't go to waste, I was hungry.)
Arriving in Baga, one could mistake it for Blackpool gone mental in a heat wave! Hundreds of bars, including the 'Manchester United Bar', restaurants, jewellery shops, traffic, smog, and market stalls selling things that make you say: "that would look nice in the lounge", and to be fair, it won't . Tourists on mopeds were nervously avoiding a crash, locals looked annoyed with the freewheeling tourists, and coaches, with their menacing horns, would scare everyone shitless. Though, the streets were mainly full of hawkers touting their trade, usually starting with either: "yes my friend", or "hallo my friend". We were to hear these two phrases every day, everywhere, for the next three weeks, @!?#*!!!!!!!!!!!
Villa Fatima was a busy hotel situated right in the thick of the action. Like Hotel Grant, they also had a dizzying array of blokes that hung around such as: satonabenchman and doingnothingatalltimesman. Our favourite, with a face that made the French appear happy, and took immediate dis-likening to guests: moodyreceptionwomanman. She was the perfect candidate for being really, massively friendly to at every given opportunity. She particularly didn't like a huge: "Morning!" accompanied with a smile. The hotel was also full to the brim with Russians. They too seemed to dislike everyone, and would click fingers at people, swagger round being drunken twats, and generally look pissed off.
So we were staying in a moody hotel, which is a fun place to be really, very happy ;o) We didn't make any Russian friends.
A walk to the beach took five minutes past the nightclubs, stalls and "yes my friend" hawkers. The beach was seriously mental with motorbikes going up and down, jet ski's all over the place, hundreds of Russian tourists, and beach hawkers approaching every two minutes selling their trade. Dozens of locals were also at the beach to gawk at the bikini clad attractions, this apparently happens all over Goa. It wasn't a sensational place to relax, one may even call it rambunctious. So the next day we hired a motorbike and braved the bog of eternal stench....roads.
The moped was supreme amounts of fun. No one wears helmets in India, so with the wind in your hair, or my forehead, we were off. Beeping the horn is necessary when you approach, pass, move, stop, etc...so we did just that. Passing old banger cars, trucks, over crowded buses, bikes, and cows on the road.. we arrived at Candolim beach, 6km south of Baga. A short drive down the side roads takes you to much quieter stretches of beach, all with excellent beach shacks producing fantastic food, from Goan, traditional Indian to western delights. We wasted away the days leading up to Christmas on this beach and beachshackman 1,2,3 & 4, brought food and drinks to our sun beds. EVERYTHING was very cheap, including the cocktails, so we enjoyed the luxury of greed. Our stomachs had recovered, so we were able to sample all local cuisine favourites such as grilled kingfish masala, various meat/seafood tandooris, kingfisher larger, and curries. Fatman in the hood.
Got told off one day for not seeing a speed bump. We sped over it, projected into the air, and landed perfectly. Two minor heart attacks and a pissy Pugdog later....won't do that again.
At night we would walk through Baga and take our pick out of the overcrowded selection of restaurants, cafes and bars, all with hawkers touting the menus, all with excellent food. We also ate watching sunset on Baga beach, which at night transforms into an al-fresco restaurant with hundreds of candle lit tables facing the waves. We feasted on crispy garlic-cheese naans, vegetable pakoras, spicy prawn starters, grilled red snapper and seafood curries whilst watching tightrope walkers and fires jugglers perform...one young girl must have been five years old walking on a metal wheel, on a rope, 20 feet high. Bonkers.
We spent Christmas Eve with fellow Bristolians, Bonnie and Lee, who were on their honeymoon in South Goa. It was nice to see a friendly face from home..They are well in to their clubbing and travelled to Baga for the famous xmas eve parties, and hopefully, um, our company? 😊 ...We payed a visit to several big clubs, including Titos, Goa's finest. We all had a great night dancing away to that modern, hip, dance music...with the obligatory crowds of locals furiously head wobbling.
Christmas day was difficult. Being severely hungover in 30+ degree heat is not pleasant. Managed to get an English breakfast which I immediately regretted, but I couldn't help myself. Pork is not a speciality throughout India, and their sausages tasted like bumholes in a bag. Pug had porridge. That night we went for a Turkey dinner with sprouts and mash in a nearby restaurant called 'East Meets West'. Situated in a large tropical courtyard, it an was amazing place. The Christmas decorations amongst the palm trees and tropical plants were a nice touch, but, next door, a new techno night club called 'Hype' had its opening launch party. They PUMPED techno out of a massive sound system that was sooo loud you couldn't hear your own voice. All this happened around 8pm, whilst our entertainment, ie, bloke singing cheesy keyboard classics in made up English, was playing at sonic bom levels. Determined not to stop in the face of adversity, he boldly continued, whilst our food jumped from table to table. A night we, or cheesykeyboardman, will never forget :-)..
We had a good Christmas, managed to phone and Skype the fam, and made a toast to absent friends!
Pugism of the week: 'Packet Snacker Pug'
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Chickenman: He's everywhere, he's everywhere
You make me laugh at every line! Canny wait for Sri Lanka (although hope you won't blog our entire trip). Love you both, Katie x