I know you all have been waiting by your computers for days now, wanting to hear more details about my trip to Goa, refreshing my facebook profile to make sure you haven't missed the latest blog entry. Alas, I'm sorry to say that my cohorts and I agreed to the following rule about Goa: Vegas rules apply. What happens in Goa stays in Goa. That being said, I'm sure they won't mind if I divulge a few fun stories...
As I've already referenced in my previous post, Friday night in Goa was a bit...ridiculous. Goa is known as a party-centric beach place, so we took full advantage of the nightlife on Friday night. First we went to dinner at a place called Brittos - it is on Baga Beach, which is one of the main party beaches in North Goa. We had dinner on the beach and played a rousing game of "never have I ever," which certainly helped us get to know each other a bit better.
The interesting thing about it is that we were one of only a handful of women that we saw out that night. All of the bars there advertise free drinks for ladies, which makes sense now that we saw the demographics of the typical crowd. The vast majority of fellow club patrons were men, which was fine at first, then led to us receiving a lot of attention, and then got to the point where bouncers were having to kick guys out of the club because they were getting too aggressive with us. It was around that point that we decided it was time to leave. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that 7 different guys followed me outside to try to continue flirting with me and trying to take me home. They all stood in a circle around me as I was trying to leave - thankfully Kevin cut through the circle and helped me get out of there. Most of these guys were Indians, but there was also a whole shipload of French sailors who had been on a boat for 6 months and were desperate for female company. Like I said, we females were not short on attention at all that night. Our prearranged taxi driver wasn't picking up his phone, so Kevin was trying to find us a ride home when it started raining - pouring, actually. Ami, Praneetha and I could still hear the music coming from the bars around us, so we decided it was a great idea to dance in the rain...in the middle of the street. At 3 am. Thankfully, Kevin found us a cab driver, and although he charged us the Indian cabbie equivalent of an arm and a leg, we got back to the hotel safely, albeit soaking wet.
About our hotel - it was called Casa Anjuna and was located near Anjuna beach in Goa. Goa is typically discussed in terms of either North Goa or South Goa (Goa itself is an entire state in India, albeit a smaller one). North Goa is where the party beaches are, whereas South Goa has the more secluded beaches and smaller crowds. Anjuna is in North Goa, although it isn't one of the bigger beaches, so we were able to have privacy, peace and quiet while we were in the hotel, but still be close enough to the action to have some fun. Our hotel was actually more of a B&B than a hotel. It was located in an old Portuguese villa/mansion. Each bedroom in the place was different, with various antique furniture and hand-embroidered bedspreads. Praneetha had read some online reviews about the second floor of the hotel being bigger than the first floor, so we viewed several different options and then chose our rooms. I chose the room with the patio, which I later regretted because the open doors during the day meant that there were mosquitoes in my room at night. Lesson learned about patio rooms in the tropics.
Overall, though, the hotel was charming and beautiful. It wasn't on the beach, but that turned out to be completely fine with us - beaches here in India are different than in the west, anyway. You're not going to see rows of beach chairs lined up on beaches here. You won't see people sunning themselves, either. You won't even see people wearing bathing suits! People go to the beach fully dressed and seem to just walk around, maybe sit down and watch the waves, maybe play frisbee or some equivalent. They don't sun themselves because people here aspire to be lighter in skin color, not darker. They don't wear bathing suits - particularly the women - because of a cultural norm here about modesty. A woman won't want to be seen by her friends, family, or particularly strange men while she's in her bathing suit. She would be mortified if she were photographed in a bathing suit, and her parents would be even more embarrassed by it. I'm not talking about skimpy bikinis either - this applies to full tank suits with skirts attached to them. We were informed prior to leaving for Goa that only sluts and Europeans wear bikinis anyway (!).
On Saturday, we slept in and then headed to a nearby beach to relax. One of the great things about Goa is that nearly all beaches in North Goa have what are called "beach shacks" up and down the coastline. People flock to these beach shacks for shade, food, drinks, and music while still enjoying the scenery offered by the beautiful beachscapes. We went to a shack called Curlies that was only about a 5 minute drive from our hotel. It certainly was an out of the way place. The car dropped us off, and then we had to walk at least 5 minutes on these narrow dirt paths through what felt like the jungle (I might be exaggerating) to get to the beach itself. Once we were there, we didn't want to leave. Ever. We sat at a table with a full view of the ocean, a breeze in our faces and delicious food that was ridiculously cheap - even for India. We sat there from about 4 pm until midnight - no joke.
We walked along the beach and took photos, then came back up to order more food. We made friends with people at nearby tables, chatted with fellow tourists, and swapped stories from the night before. This was the most comfortable I had been while outside since I arrived in India. Yes the heat and the humidity were still there, but the shade and the breeze nearly neutralized them for me. We sat for hours, sometimes talking, sometimes just zoning out and watching the waves. We indulged in different freshly squeezed juices to help rehydrate ourselves after the night before - watermelon juice and pineapple juice quickly became my favorites. We bought fresh coconuts from a woman selling them on the beach, drank the coconut water and ate the fresh fruity flesh.
We watched the sunset over the Arabian sea and let all worries slip from our minds. This is truly a place of beauty and peace.
...because they're awesome
As I've already referenced in my previous post, Friday night in Goa was a bit...ridiculous. Goa is known as a party-centric beach place, so we took full advantage of the nightlife on Friday night. First we went to dinner at a place called Brittos - it is on Baga Beach, which is one of the main party beaches in North Goa. We had dinner on the beach and played a rousing game of "never have I ever," which certainly helped us get to know each other a bit better.
I'm a Michigan Wolverine - get it?
The interesting thing about it is that we were one of only a handful of women that we saw out that night. All of the bars there advertise free drinks for ladies, which makes sense now that we saw the demographics of the typical crowd. The vast majority of fellow club patrons were men, which was fine at first, then led to us receiving a lot of attention, and then got to the point where bouncers were having to kick guys out of the club because they were getting too aggressive with us. It was around that point that we decided it was time to leave. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that 7 different guys followed me outside to try to continue flirting with me and trying to take me home. They all stood in a circle around me as I was trying to leave - thankfully Kevin cut through the circle and helped me get out of there. Most of these guys were Indians, but there was also a whole shipload of French sailors who had been on a boat for 6 months and were desperate for female company. Like I said, we females were not short on attention at all that night. Our prearranged taxi driver wasn't picking up his phone, so Kevin was trying to find us a ride home when it started raining - pouring, actually. Ami, Praneetha and I could still hear the music coming from the bars around us, so we decided it was a great idea to dance in the rain...in the middle of the street. At 3 am. Thankfully, Kevin found us a cab driver, and although he charged us the Indian cabbie equivalent of an arm and a leg, we got back to the hotel safely, albeit soaking wet.
View of the club from the balcony
About our hotel - it was called Casa Anjuna and was located near Anjuna beach in Goa. Goa is typically discussed in terms of either North Goa or South Goa (Goa itself is an entire state in India, albeit a smaller one). North Goa is where the party beaches are, whereas South Goa has the more secluded beaches and smaller crowds. Anjuna is in North Goa, although it isn't one of the bigger beaches, so we were able to have privacy, peace and quiet while we were in the hotel, but still be close enough to the action to have some fun. Our hotel was actually more of a B&B than a hotel. It was located in an old Portuguese villa/mansion. Each bedroom in the place was different, with various antique furniture and hand-embroidered bedspreads. Praneetha had read some online reviews about the second floor of the hotel being bigger than the first floor, so we viewed several different options and then chose our rooms. I chose the room with the patio, which I later regretted because the open doors during the day meant that there were mosquitoes in my room at night. Lesson learned about patio rooms in the tropics.
Ami and Praneetha's room
Overall, though, the hotel was charming and beautiful. It wasn't on the beach, but that turned out to be completely fine with us - beaches here in India are different than in the west, anyway. You're not going to see rows of beach chairs lined up on beaches here. You won't see people sunning themselves, either. You won't even see people wearing bathing suits! People go to the beach fully dressed and seem to just walk around, maybe sit down and watch the waves, maybe play frisbee or some equivalent. They don't sun themselves because people here aspire to be lighter in skin color, not darker. They don't wear bathing suits - particularly the women - because of a cultural norm here about modesty. A woman won't want to be seen by her friends, family, or particularly strange men while she's in her bathing suit. She would be mortified if she were photographed in a bathing suit, and her parents would be even more embarrassed by it. I'm not talking about skimpy bikinis either - this applies to full tank suits with skirts attached to them. We were informed prior to leaving for Goa that only sluts and Europeans wear bikinis anyway (!).
On Saturday, we slept in and then headed to a nearby beach to relax. One of the great things about Goa is that nearly all beaches in North Goa have what are called "beach shacks" up and down the coastline. People flock to these beach shacks for shade, food, drinks, and music while still enjoying the scenery offered by the beautiful beachscapes. We went to a shack called Curlies that was only about a 5 minute drive from our hotel. It certainly was an out of the way place. The car dropped us off, and then we had to walk at least 5 minutes on these narrow dirt paths through what felt like the jungle (I might be exaggerating) to get to the beach itself. Once we were there, we didn't want to leave. Ever. We sat at a table with a full view of the ocean, a breeze in our faces and delicious food that was ridiculously cheap - even for India. We sat there from about 4 pm until midnight - no joke.
Not a bad view for 8 hours straight...
We watched the sunset over the Arabian sea and let all worries slip from our minds. This is truly a place of beauty and peace.
After our late-night shenanigans from Friday, we were not in the mood to do anything besides sit and relax. Somewhere along the day, I made friends with one of the stray dogs hanging around the shack. She was so sweet and affectionate, it broke my heart a little that I can't take her home with me. I named her Ginger, and she slept at my feet most of the day.
We went back to the hotel at midnight, wanting to get a full night's sleep so that we could go shopping on Sunday morning. What was waiting for us at the hotel was...unexpected. We arrive and find that the power has gone out on the entire second floor of the hotel. Our rooms had no lights, no AC, no fans. There was absolutely no way we could sleep there, so the hotel proprietor told us he would help us relocate to different rooms. The weird part about it was that he kept telling us we weren't allowed to go get our bags from our existing rooms! He and Praneetha were arguing in Hindi about it, and he kept saying that we could go upstairs to get our toothbrushes but that we shouldn't bring the rest of our stuff to the new rooms. It turns out that he was being so particular about it because he thought we were staying the rest of the week, and the new rooms are more expensive, higher quality rooms, so he didn't want us getting a free upgrade because of a power outage one night. Praneetha told him that we are checking out tomorrow, so only then did he stop arguing with us about getting our bags.
Actually tracking down our stuff turned out to be a bit of a challenge. With no electricity, and the moon obscured by all of the palm trees, the second floor of the hotel was pitch black. We tried using our cell phones to light the way, but they didn't provide much help in this situation. The hotelier ended up giving us candles to light our way. Unfortunately he didn't have candlesticks, so I ended up dripping hot wax everywhere, but it still was quite the experience. I was walking slowly up a large wooden staircase in an old colonial mansion, with only candlelight to guide me. I felt like Nicole Kidman in The Others! We were all making jokes about Scooby Doo and The Shining throughout the journey to our rooms - thankfully no apparitions made any appearances.
My new room turned out to be bigger than my old one, with higher ceilings and a fancier bathroom, but it hadn't been swept in at least a week. There were dead bugs on the floor, and dust on the dresser. I was annoyed but at the same time just wanted to go to sleep - thankfully I didn't end up with too many bug bites. (Don't worry, everyone, I'm still taking my preventative malaria medicine). The air conditioning in my room went off a couple times during the night, but not for long enough to make it uncomfortable. Apparently power outages are very common here in India. I haven't experienced any yet because Mumbai has fewer outages, and in particular the neighborhood I live in is well supplied with power because it is a richer neighborhood. Apparently most villages in India only have power for part of the day - they have to go through most days without any fans or air conditioning. I think I would have melted many years ago if I had to sit through the summer heat here without any relief. The power outages are an issue of supply and demand - there aren't enough power stations to support India's ever-growing population. Electricity ends up being rationed and funnelled to areas of the country that can afford it, which is why villages have the worst end of the bargain. I am incredibly thankful now for the AC in my apartment and hope I never have to deal with it going out!
Sunday we woke up and went shopping as planned. We went to a different beach in North Goa - Calangute, which is the biggest beach and the most crowded. It also therefore has the best shopping, so we spent our time moving from stall to stall, haggling and buying cheap jewelry, sundresses and purses. My friends were all impressed with my "power shopping" abilities - I would be in a store, find what I wanted, and negotiate the price down to at least 50% of what I had been quoted within just a few minutes. When they asked how I learned to shop so efficiently, I told them that I had learned from the best, and having grown up in a largely female-dominated household, I learned quickly how best to maximize my time spent shopping.
The splendid balance between breeze and heat was gone today - we were hot and sweaty while shopping. After about 90 minutes, we all were ready to pass out and so stumbled into a restaurant on the beach for some much needed shade and refreshment. I'm going to miss the freshly squeezed Goan juices (sigh), but thankfully am able to get similar juice treats near Haji Ali in Bombay.
We weren't sure how long it would take to get to the airport, so we headed back to the hotel to change and pack up before our 5:20 flight. We were trying to leave the hotel around 3 to make it to the airport by 4:20. When we went to reception to check out, however, they apologized and told us that the power in that area is out, and so their credit card reader isn't working (!?!?). The power was working in our rooms, so we're very confused about why they can't just plug it in somewhere else, but they insist that we have to get in the car and go to their sister property, where they can make the reader work. The cab driver that we had arranged to take us to the airport - who was a referral by the hotel manager, actually - tries to charge us another 300 rupees for the inconvenience of having to go out of our way to this property. Thankfully, the hotel agreed to pay the fee, but at this point I'm incredibly fed up with the cabbies in Goa. They are ripping us off right and left, and we have no option but to just pay what they're asking! We should have stayed within walking distance of the beach so that we weren't completely dependent on cabs taking us everywhere, but most of the beachfront properties were sold out by the time we booked our hotel. Grr. Anyway, we head to the sister property, pay our bill, and finally are on the way to the airport. Any concern that we had about missing our flight quickly disappeared when it became clear that our driver had a need....a need for speed. The roads in Goa are rarely 2 lanes - most of the time it's just a one lane road with enough shoulder space for opposing traffic to pull to the side to let someone else pass. This guy was flying down these roads, honking nearly the entire time to make sure that no one t-boned him when he came flying around blind corners! At one point, he actually overtook an ambulance that was speeding with its sirens going. Not only was he going faster than the ambulance on its way to an emergency, but he didn't even give the emergency vehicle the right of way! Maybe he had a death wish, I don't know. At one point we sideswiped a cow on the side of the road. There are cows everywhere in Goa - street cows, mostly, rather than someone's property. They graze here and there, take naps in the middle of the street, whatever. They do what they want to do because being a cow in India is like being Tiki in my house. They can get away with pretty much anything. Anyway, this guy is speeding down the road and - I swear this happened - the side mirror on my side of the car hit a cow in the head! He didn't stop - just keep driving. This was by far the most terrifying car ride of my life - I'm so thankful (and honestly surprised) that we got to the airport in one piece.
That's about it for my Goan adventures. I'll try to post more photos later - the ones I have in this post are from Ami's camera, since I forgot to load mine onto my computer before I came to work this morning. Miss you all - send me more emails!
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