Goa

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March 13

A nice train ride deposited us on the Arabian Sea coast in the small but festive state of Goa. We pulled into the small fishing town of Benaulim and checked into a nice guest house nestled among palm and coconut trees, about half a mile off the beach. Plans to check out the town were hijacked as we lay down for just a minute and slept most of the afternoon away.

March14-21

Life on the beach carries on at a slow, unhurried pace. The typical day begins with a walk into town for a breakfast of omelets, coffee, and backgammon, followed by a stroll through the various shops selling all sorts of clothing, rugs, carvings, and knick-knacks before heading back to the hotel for awhile. Then down to the beach for some swimming, eating, and drinking, before heading back to town for some dinner. Some days we had to rush to get it all in.

Many of the vendors were Kashmiri, and every year they would migrate to the coast for the winter before heading back to Kashmir in April. Not a bad life if you discount haggling with tourists every day, sleeping in the shops, and being away from family and homeland for half of every year.

The state of Goa is heavily influenced by the Portugese, who colonized this portion the Arabian Sea coastline from 1510 to 1961. At its height, the colonial capital of Old Goa was said to rival Lisbon in beauty and extravangance. Goa is much wealthier, healthier, and prosperous than much of India, and as a result is a very laid-back place. “Sossegado” as the Portugese would say - calm and happy. Portugese influence is very evident in the food, and the smoky prawns belchao and spicy pork sausage dishes were absolutely delicious.

On March 15 we headed up the coast about 30 miles for the day to check out the Wednesday flea market at Anjuna. Hundreds of stalls set up outside under a sea of tarps and blankets. Kashmiri, Keralan, Goan, and Tibetan traders selling clothes, CDs, spices, rugs, jewelry, instruments, food, artwork, puppets, and the ubiquitous Bob Marley and Che Guevara t-shirts. People everywhere. As you slowly make your way through the labyrinthian stalls, you break out on the other side and there is a brilliant blue-green cove with light brown sand and dark volcanic rocks. Sossegado indeed. As we drove to the market we began to see everywhere people who were absolutely splattered with red, blue, purple, yellow, and green paint on their head, face, and shoulders. Just outside the market was an elephant with corresponding paint on the trunk and head. It turns out that was the day for Anjuna to celebrate the Holi festival to welcome the arrival of spring. Everywhere people wishing one another “Happy Holi” and smiles all day long. When we returned to Benaulim there was paint everywhere there too. The paint was dried powder that would be mixed up in water bottles and sprayed onto nearby friends. The next few days proved that the paint was difficult to wash out of clothes and hair, as each day the visible celebration of spring became more and more diluted.

A few days later we took the bus down to the little beach town of Palolem to see a little more of the coast. Palolem is far more developed but tucked into a pretty little cove with fishing boats coming in and out with the tide. It was so easy relaxing in Palolem that the last bus back came and went while we were still eating fried calamari and drinking cold beer; we stayed overnight in a beach hut instead and caught a bus back the following day.

After a while, the beach is the beach and it’s time to see new things, so we caught a day train to Hampi, the site of the ancient Vijayanagar Hindu empire.

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