Having found another beach hut, this time constructed from ultra thin ply wood with a front door that felt like it was going to pull or push the house down every time we opened or closed it, we showered and went out for a ROAST DINNER. We ate at cheeky chapatti, an English run restaurant with a phenomenal sounding menu, we tucked into a meat heavy half chicken roast with rosemary potatoes, wine braised carrots and creamy cauliflowers cheese sprinkled with seeds. There was a power cut for most of the meal so we couldn't really see what we were eating but it was goooooood. We hauled our bursting bellies back and sat outside our huts, which neighboured each other, and chatted into the night.
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| From Goa, India |
The next day Jess and I got up early and went to a morning yoga class, the teacher was an old but fit Indian dude with long grey hair and a beard to match. His mats stank of feet, and after rolling round on them for an hour and a half so did we, his repertoire was catered solely to his female students (there were no boys) and we did exercises to help our backs and improve our fertility (I did wonder if there was anyone there planning to get pregnant in the near future, most us of were trying to avoid it), he also had the most unnerving and mild hysteria inducing habit of saying in his deep low voice 'yes... you like my yoga don't you', 'yes... you like that don't you'. The guy was nice enough but his near constant declarations that we were indeed loving his foot scented yoga routine was enough for me to look around for another, slightly more orthodox teacher.
The following days in Pallolem stretched by in lazy succession, most mornings Jess and I got up for a morning yoga class with a much more humble, younger and less strange yoga teacher, we practised out in the open underneath coconut palms (it was as gorgeous as it sounds), we had healthy breakfasts of fresh fruits with muesli, curd and honey and then spent the rest of the day lazing about by the beach reading, dozing and in my case trying not to burn. There were a few days worthy of mention though;
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| From Goa, India |
One Friday, the beginning of April we decided to walk to the next beach and so for the first time in a while I picked up my camera and we all set off armed with sunglasses, sun-cream and bottles of water. It was a beautiful walk, the initial part was a little further inland and we passed by some houses where women were putting out the washing and families of chicken scratched around in the muck, it was especially nice because Jess and I meandered round frequently losing sight of the boys while we took pictures of EVERYTHING, it was so nice to have a partner in crime who didn't mind and actually wanted to stay in one place for five minutes taking numerous photos of newborn chicks.
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| From Goa, India |
We circled back onto the coastline with shores of colourful fishing boats and the odd cow and decided to continue onto the next beach which looked even quieter.
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| From Goa, India |
We scrambled over some barnacle covered rocks, and onto a beautiful stretch of near deserted golden sand.
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| From Goa, India |
Tucked away behind the beach there was a huge expensive resort which explained the presence of all the leaf covered umbrella/open sided huts. We picked up a small friend in the form of a very friendly dog who sat with us while we listened to 80s pop on Jonny's Ipod and chatted.
Djalma and Jonny went and played in the surf with the Frisbee while Jess and I talked in the shade, soon enough the idyllic beach setting and the proximity of the swanky beach bar/restaurant suggested the obvious thing. Cocktails. After a good deal of umming and aahing we decided to walk back along to the next beach where there a few more slightly more affordable looking bars where we might find cocktails. Sure enough we found a place right on the beach with cushions on the floor and swinging beds, we sat ourselves down and watched the sea while we waited for our first round of pina coladas to be made. They looked delicious and tasted even better, the perfect blend of pineapple, coconut, alcohol and ice-cream, it tasted of pure beachy holiday, I don't think I'll ever be able to drink another pina colada again they were that good. Making most of the buy two get the third free, we had three of the leg melting concoctions each, in between drinks the boys played volleyball on the beach with some of the staff from the restaurant while Jess and I took pictures and sat and talked (how I miss girlie chats). After our third and final PC we made our way back to our beach in a very pleasant fog of rum induced euphoria.
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| From Goa, India |
The next day, Saturday the 2nd of April, was the Cricket World Cup Final, a HUGE deal in India, Jess, Jonny and Djalma watched from the beginning while I spent the afternoon at yoga and shopping for an outfit for the silent disco later that night. I finally managed to find some trousers I adored, see through, baggy enough for me to trip myself up and patterned with pretty flowers I paid much more than I would usually have spent on trousers (in India – I would have never found such good value for money elsewhere) and went back happy and hungry. I met the guys in the bar where we watched the rest of the game until well after 11pm, I got surprisingly into it, the beer and the hidden whisky and coke didn't hurt my new found enthusiasm either. When the game finished and India won – it was a very close run thing – a huge cheer went up in the bar and anywhere where there was a TV screen, the atmosphere was electric and we danced in the streets with all the other deliriously happy cricket supporters shouting 'Indiaaaa, India, India, Indiiiaaaaaa' (the way English football hooligans do).
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| From Goa, India |
We stocked up on some more Old Monks Rum and sat and drank on the beach before deciding that we were more than drunk enough to require a minimum of club priced drinks once inside. We paid our 500Rs entrance fee, collected our enormous head phones and started dancing to either the red, green or blue channel. If no-one has ever been to a silent disco, let me start by whole heartedly recommending them. First off they are brilliant if the club happens to be in close proximity to homes or resorts (which ours was) and also you get to choose which music you want to listen to, although to be fair the genres of music weren't that different at times, but at least one DJ was playing a good tune at any one point. We danced and at some points sang along happy with our own choices, if it got too much you could turn the volume down, take off the head phones and watch the other people dancing – slightly surreal as there wasn't any music playing outside the bar in the open air dance floor.
Demolishing an old chicken shwarma (similar to a kebab) on the way out the club we dug up the bottle of rum which Jonny had buried near a fishing boat and made our way back to our little shacks.
The next day we straggled out to Presley's on the beach front for a steak breakfast before heading back to bed to sleep. We went back to Cheeky Chapatti for the restorative power of burgers, unfortunately there was no beef- we had chicken or vegetable burgers, there were no buns - we had wraps, and no chips - we had roasted potatoes, all in all it wasn't a very successful burger outing even though the food was good. We shared the last chocolate brownie in the house between three of us – Jess was allergic to nuts (and most other things – bananas made her lips swell up although I didn't have the honour of seeing that first hand), the brownie is worth a special mention because it was easily the best brownie that have ever tasted, just like my granny used to make them. At the restaurant we bumped into the DJ who was doing the music for the blue channel, the last channel I was listening to at the end, he was playing some techno and it nearly blew my mind it was so good. DJ's in my opinion should be good-looking as well as having good taste in music and prowess in the mixing department and while he ticked the last two boxes he left the first wanting. He seemed nice enough though and it was ice to have met the figure from the box looking out over the floor.
The next week we organised some early morning kayaking which Djalma and I were spectacularly shocking at and had a major falling out on the way back from a small beach, after three hours of paddling round in circles, only managing to go in a straight line when we weren't talking to each (in an awful fuming silence) we were grateful to haul our wet bottoms out of the seats (having managed to catch a wave to the shore) and get some breakfast. The less said about that morning the better.
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| From Goa, India |
We also organised what turned out to be a mammoth day of riding. Djalma fulfilled his dream of rising out on an Enfield Bullet (I was more than a little excited to get on the back of such an iconic bike as well) and Jess and Jonny rented out another motorbike and we set off in search of spice plantations further North. After a good two and a half hours of riding and a fair bit of back tracking near the end we settled on the first plantation we came across and sat down to a much needed lunch. We were greeted with a little song and dance, some flower petals and a welcome tikka on the forehead, which we all promptly sweated off. For a buffet included in the ticket price it was surprisingly good and we stuffed ourselves silly, the pudding made of sweet rice with nuts, raisins and saffron was delicious and I managed an extra helping of that before I popped. After lunch and a quick wash, our faces were orange and black with all the red dust and the general dirt from the road – we all looked like we were major fans of fake tan and eye-liner – we followed our friendly guide round the display garden (sadly no trips through a real plantation) while he stopped beside different plants asking us what we thought each and everything was (we guessed a fair bit but there was a lot we didn't know) and then told us what we could use it for, different medicines that we could make from it, it was really interesting but I think mainly it was a very subtle sales pitch for their little shop that we stopped at afterwards. The highlight of the walk round the display garden was this man.
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| From Goa, India |
It was his job to shuffle up the Betel trees and shake down the nuts, in India you can buy something called paan – it's a mildly narcotic mixture of betel nut with a mixture of different sweet spices, syrup and tobacco if you want it all wrapped up in a leaf with it folded into a small parcel - which you tuck between your cheek and lower teeth and let the juices ooze through your mouth. His outfit attracted as much attention as his nimble scrambling up the trees and then swinging one tree to reach another – the guy was in his fifties. Jess and Jonny had a go – Jonny managed to make it a fair way up the tree but it looked damn difficult.
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| From Goa, India |
After our tour was finished we were given little packets with the nuts and seed pods that we had seen in the tour and then we stood near a clay pot while some very cool water was poured down the backs of our T-shirts to refresh us – Djalma went somewhere else with a hose and did the job more thoroughly, he was persuaded not to jump in the lake because of the alligators (he does have some sense of self-preservation). We said goodbye to the elephant out the front, got back on our bikes and headed in the general direction of home trying to avoid Madgaon, a big city where, we were warned, the police have a tendency to heck licences for tourists on bikes. We managed to head straight for it and after repairing a punctured tyre on our bike we had to re-route to avoid a check point. It was bottom numbing ride and my legs were aching having sat on the back of the bike in the same position for so long. We got a ferry across a stretch water and then it wasn't long before we were winding up and down roads near home. It was around this point that our bike stopped several times, refusing to start and when it did stopping moments later. We managed to get some more petrol from a local who sold us some from his own supply and we eventually made it home. I was feeling pretty miserable, tired and hungry, the adventure of the day having long worn off and replaced by the worry that we would have to walk home through unlit twisting country roads and feeling sorry for Jess and Jonny who had to constantly stop and wait for our bloody temperamental bike. We did eventually make it back in one piece and we dropped off our bikes feeling enormously grateful that we had returned unscathed, in one piece and not walking our bike back.
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| From Goa, India |
Another Friday, the 8th of April I think, we rented a couple of scooters and set of in search of Kola beach which was about thirty minutes away. It was a small beach which led down to the water in one short steep step, further back a small stream fed into a naturally heated lake which had deliciously warm water and in some parts was so baking along the bottom that it was unwise to put your feet down for long. We sat and chilled out after playing a bit of Frisbee and then headed back along the way we had come for a super healthy vegetarian dinner at Blue Planet. The food was delicious even though the portions were a bit on the small side (what is about healthy food – it really doesn't fill you up at all) and there were some very cute cats. Unfortunately the owners dogs came bounding down and was playing and begging for food underneath our table, the guy came down and chased it out and then started beating it and scaring it, it was so horrible we all said something about it, what made it worse was their small fat kid who stood and laughed (there's something maddening about small fat boys who take pleasure in watching other things being hurt). It put a downer on the meal and we said so on the way out, it also seemed so odd that in a vegetarian place animals weren't treated well and it was also a place that seemed to cater exclusively to foreigners who generally tend not to tolerate that behaviour towards animals.
The next day I took myself on the bus to Chowdi which was about twenty minutes outside of Palolem, I wanted to get some bits and pieces for a pampering day which Jess and I had spoken a lot about but hadn't actually done. I bought lots of bindis, some bright purple bangles, purple nail polish and some more henna for my hair along with some lemons to try and lighten parts. Back at the ranch I hennaed my hair with henna paste mixed with beetroot juice (very messy) and some with lemon, it didn't really make any difference it all came out the usual shade of radioactive carrot (which, by the way, I love). After washing that off and making a huge mess in the bathroom which took an age to clean, I slapped on a face mask and sat back to carry on reading some trashy English magazines someone had thoughtfully left on our table. With hair dried, nails clipped and painted, make-up on and bindified I was ready for our last big night out. I went out to try and find Djalma, after purchasing an expensive bottle of white Sauvignon Blanc (we'd not had any wine in ages – beer and cocktails don't count), where he was in his usual place on the beach playing volleyball. He rolled up at some point after sunset after Jess, Jonny and I had made a respectable dent in the bottle, we slapped on some more mosquito spray and headed across to the posh restaurant next door called 'Ciaran's' which we walked past all the time and had promised ourselves on several occasions that we would go there before we left. It was beautiful and expensive and I was already tipsy from the wine but we tucked into some more rum and cokes before ordering gorgeous dinners. Djalma and Jonny ordered the fish thalis (set meals including different curries, rice, salad and poppadoms) while Jess and I both gave into our hearts desires and asked for the juiciest and most beautiful steaks (with extra garlic of course).
It was a lovely meal and a really nice treat, the guys were definitely jealous that they hadn't ordered what we had, at least I know Djalma was, his curry was delicious but it wasn't steak. After we paid our menu spinning waiter we kicked back on our little porches to play ring of fire, a drinking game was not the best idea, I was too tiddled to remember any of the rules and after drinking rather too many forfeits I was exempt from the rules in the fear the I would pass out before we left for the club, oh yes, Silent Disco strikes again.
Feeling rather nauseous on the way up to Neptunes Point where the club was, I was surprised to make it there without incident and then to be let in. I was definitely in too much of a state to really enjoy myself and struggled hard to stay awake, the music wasn't as I good as I remembered it to be the previous time and Jess and Jonny had a big argument which they promptly made up after and by the time we left they were holding hands and declaring their love for each other. After countless bottles of water we stumbled back along the shore in search of food which never materialised and fell into bed.
The next day Jess and Jonny left, after travelling together for so long it felt odd to watch them go and not be going with them, they were really fun people to be with and I loved talking to Jess who was impossibly sweet and funny. We spent the day sorting out our plans and watched Apocalytpo in the evening, which both of us had watched before and kept skipping at the end.
The next day we spent packing, it was the most relaxed packing ever, it didn't even feel like work although true to form when we left that night we still didn't have time to finish without rushing. We took a tuk tuk to the train station where we sat for two hours, for once the train wasn't late we were just insanely early, before climbing aboard and settling in for the night trip.
We cut the timing very very finely, had our train arrived in Mumbai on time we would still have had to rush but not quite as much as we did when it arrived late. We ran, or tried to, along the platform our bags bouncing all over the place and our thighs slowly and painfully giving up the further we ran, we jumped in a taxi and roared through the traffic the drivers hand almost permanently on the horn, funnily enough it felt like we were going faster when he was beeping everyone out the way. We arrived at the airport with minutes to spare, I, in my English way joined the queue but Djalma urged me to ask where we could check in faster because we had less than five minutes before check-in time for our flight was due to close. Having checked in we speed walked through the airport where we jumped the queue for the security check only to find that our bags hadn't been cabin approved, we got the tags, raced back and got to the boarding queue just as it was petering out. Luckily we were fed on the first flight, we had no time to buy anything on the way to the plane and it was ambiguous as to whether we were entitled to breakfast or not. After eating and snoozing we arrived in Delhi and were taken directly to our connecting flight which left soon after we boarded and arrived at the final stop, Siliguri, before getting a shared Jeep up to Darjeeling.
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