So by the end of 5 days in Bombay the dirt, ever present threat of rabies (or bird poo in Shamal's case), hawking and nose picking (although I can sympathise with that) and the general chaos and smells I cant even begin to explain - we were all quite ready to go to Goa.
As some of may know getting anything done in India is more testing of your patience than Shamal daily beauty regime of pore strips and face masks, and so getting to Goa was no different. Being the sensible and well planned LSE graduates that we are, we headed to the central station the day before we wanted to travel only to find that being Diwali weekend people are even more crazy than normal. Apparently there was no way of the city for weeks!!! After asking at the ticket office and receiving nothing but grunts in return we bumped into a lady who looked to be our savior but as always it was too good to be true. She was Indian but born in Birmingham and so spoke good English and was only to eager to help. We were so caught up in the jubilation of finding someone who spoke English we followed outside to this dodgy shack without any question. It was the strangest feeling as we all knew we were about to be swindled but were all fixated under her spell and could do nothing about it. After some polite chit chat, on our part, she turned her attention to Naomi and this is where it got really odd. Out of nowhere she grabbed a lock of Naomi's hair and began to sniff it and then began to nod her head as if to validate her thoughts of the 'white one.' So after quite a disturbing episode we bought a bus ticket from the strange lady, she then left, my Gujarati nature kicked in, we returned the tickets and found another for considerably cheaper....happy days!
With promises of all the words tourists like to hear - deluxe, air conditioning and express - we were quite looking forward to our bus. When we got there the next morning it was like a local boys tour, with people sleeping on the floor and yet another orchestra of burps, hawks and farts! A hint to anyone planning to go from Bombay to Goa by bus - DONT! We spent the entire 12 hour journey holding onto to each other for dear life. We didn't' dip below 100kmph once, spent significant parts of the ride on 2 wheels riding directly into oncoming traffic all while traveling up a mountain. All said, we got there in once piece and very excited to be in Goa.
Our first stop was Baga, North Goa. The guide book described it was a perfectly situated location in Noth Goa, with 'good beaches and a good place for meeting fellow travelers.' Lies! The only people we could see were speed bearing German OAPs. We were lucky to find an excellent beachside hotel called Raman Cottages. It was a group of restored Portuguese cottages with all authentic interiors and fittings. After a quick snooze on the beach we headed out for our first night in Goa and went straight to the legendary Mambos on Titos Lane.
A little worse for wear the next day, we took a day trip further North to Anjuna for the iconic Wednesday flea market. This is hippy heaven. Its the kind of place you imagine Goa to be. Peace, love and endless stoned Europeans who came here in the 60s and never quite left...love it!After several days of doing what Goa is best for doing...nothing, we thought we should culture ourselves a little so took a trip into the district of Old Goa for the churches and monasteries of Basilica Bom Jesus and St Xaviers.Inspired by our proactive nature we headed to a spice village to learn all the amazing things ginger can do….There is a stark difference between North and South Goa and having been at the party half we thought is was time we had a few days relaxing on the amazing beaches in the South. Being budget travelers we stuck a deal with a taxi driver…he wanted 1200 rupees for the trip but on our travels we had noticed all the drivers would get commission for bringing tourists to their stores, silk emporiums, carpets and furniture stores etc. Instead we offered him 600 cash and to take us to three stores and take the remaining 600 from there…it just makes business sense! Our first stop in the South was Palolem and we all agreed this was the most beautiful beach we have ever seen in our lives. It is a relatively small beach but set in a cove and so the water is calmer and I guess that has an effect on the people as they are even more chilled - not that that is really possible. The sand is like gold dust and the water an emerald green. Like all beach side towns in Goa the beachfront is lined with shacks, restaurants and bars. So paying 50p for a pint of Kingfisher and watching the sunset in the most idyllic setting was as little slice of heaven. That night we decided to try sleeping in huts right on the beachfront made entirely from pal trees. They were on stilts and simply a box with a mattress and mosquito net…never again. Being on the water front we spent the whole night shivering and so by the morning we were all wearing our entire bag of clothes. The next morning we decided to hire some canoes and paddle out to an island about 2km off the mainland. It simply looked like an rock outcrop in the distance but when we got there is was a beautiful secluded beach with no sign of anything. Moving further South we next visited the town of Benaulim for a night. It was a considerably quieter place with many older couples and a surprisingly littered beach. Considering how much fun we had in Anjuna, it made our decision to go back to the North for the market a little easier. Earlier that day we hired a few scooters to run around town and by the end of the day Shamal even got up to 30kmph! Getting back on a bike was such a thrill for me I decided I wanted to ride to Anjuna on the bike. Although I knew it wasn't advisable I agreed with the rental guy to bring it back in a few days for only 300Rs (just under 4 Pounds). He said too things to me; 1. Bring it back with a full tank, 2. If you go on the highway and get stopped by the police hand over some bribery money and just pray! That should have been enough to put me off but I was determined and so in the morning we set off and I followed the other two in their taxi. All was going well for the first hour and then we hit the highway...needless to say I was stopped by the police. I first tried 'I am from Gujarat on holiday and cant speak Hindi routine'...didn't work. Then the 'I'm just a child, please take pity.' Finally 'Here's my wallet, how much do you want?' Obviously that worked! (Don't worry Dad I did haggle with him and only gave away Rs400 - he wanted Rs1200)So we spent our final day in Goa back in Anjuna for the flea market and then Nine Bar in the evening - a mini stone henge on the beach playing the best trance from sun down till 10pm. HIPPY HEAVEN!