As I am growing older, I am realising that there is no point playing it safe because at the end of the finish line, your FDs arent getting converted into Furla bags or solitaires. The only thing that is worth anything in this life is an adventure, the rush of doing something for the first time, the memories of doing something for the millionth time and each one of those times being unique. It is one life afterall, if you're not going to be bold, you're going to miss out on a lot of life. My Goa trip this time was different, understandably, when i went there with this mindset. To enjoy without caring about what is safe - it's funny how much your mind opens up when you are willing to blur the lines.
Well the adventure for Goa started before we even got there -- with a train at 8.40 from Dadar, we were stuck on Villa Parle WEH, trapped inside a bumper to bumper with zero hopes of getting anywhere. Obviously we decided to pick up our bags and make a run for it - literally to the station, catch the fastest local and somehow make it to the train. The adrenaline was pumping and I knew we were in for a treat. This was a couples trip, but the train journey was odd-numbered - 3 old friends getting together to catch up on life.
I think as you grow older, you start leaving behind the noise and go for the quiet. Varca made me realize that. For a forever-loud person like me, I just reveled in the peace that it offered.
Well the adventure for Goa started before we even got there -- with a train at 8.40 from Dadar, we were stuck on Villa Parle WEH, trapped inside a bumper to bumper with zero hopes of getting anywhere. Obviously we decided to pick up our bags and make a run for it - literally to the station, catch the fastest local and somehow make it to the train. The adrenaline was pumping and I knew we were in for a treat. This was a couples trip, but the train journey was odd-numbered - 3 old friends getting together to catch up on life.
We reached Margao pretty early in the morning and started our journey down south. Our plan was to spend 2 nights on Varca beach and 1 night at Anjuna. We knew we were going to a budget resort but we ended up here.
Tucked away on the secluded Varca beach is this resort. Clean, cozy and loaded with happy vibes, Majestic Beach Comforts was nothing what I had imagined. With a small grassy patch in front, it made me want to buy my own land and build my own little cottage. It's the thoughtfulness of the place that really made a mark with me. They had given a cloth-hanger to dry your wet sandy clothes. The Pool was a bonus!
I wanted to read about Varca before leaving but ironically nobody had much to say about it. "just another beach" was my biggest takeaway. Nothing prepared me for the pretty rich marine life we spotted - schools of starfish, crabs, sting-rays. The solitude became so addictive that everywhere I went, I sought it.
I think as you grow older, you start leaving behind the noise and go for the quiet. Varca made me realize that. For a forever-loud person like me, I just reveled in the peace that it offered.
Among the many things we did, riding up to my husband's old home-stay back in his Lila Training days was a highlight. Memory lane, here we are :)
Another big find was the Mobor Beach and spotting the Milky Way. At a time when it was pouring silly along the coast, we found a cloudless sky, a light-less beach - & we gathered up to tell ghost stories. Heaven!
Food is always the cherry-on-top of every traveler's story. This time I have decided to leave the epicurean tales for another rainy day. But one incident I do wish to report is a terrible stroke of luck and bad timing that resulted in a group of 8 educated and informed souls like us to get straight-up duped by this reputed shack-cum-restaurant called Kentuckee (remember the name). Situated on Colva beach, although with no sea-view, this place was the only one within miles to be serving booze on 2nd Oct. Needless to say we made a beeline to this smoke and beer-bellied-reveler infested joint with a very hungry tummy. The crafty (we know now) elderly waiter suggested the seafood platter which wasn't on the menu card and none of us had the good sense of asking the cost of it. Although the food was otherworldly, the price we paid for it was too - the total bill of 9700 INR. The platter itself costed 7000 since all the constituents were priced "as per catch". We checked platter prices having the same old crabs and lobsters elsewhere and nowhere did we see it exceed 5K. So people, stay away from such foolishness and always ask for the price before you order something out of the menu card.
However it didn't take away from the Sunset we watched later and splashed salty water on each other.
It's funny how Goa is always associated with raving and partying all night, with food and the sea, but very little do we ever talk about the houses of Goa. Because that is typical of it too. No-where will you find such diverse selection of architecture style. From Mughal to Portuguese, it more or less covers the full spectrum of India's colonial history. What caught my eyes this time was the Portuguese-styled Bunglow mansions, you know with the shady big balconies in front called "balcaos". It takes you way way back into a time when there were no modular kitchens or in-floor heating systems, simpler times. As I sat on the back seat of our puny little motorbike, I couldn't help but marvel at these sights that more often than not get lost in the daze of a boozy head.
Couldn't help but wonder about the people living inside those home -- "Are they stuck in time too? What would they do they had to live a life like ours, local trains, cold dabbas for lunch, deadlines? Are they happy? Do they wish a different life?"
Wanna know how we did Varca to Anjuna? 1000 bucks for 2 bikes for 24 hours. Bad deal? Not so much.
The highlight of our brief halt in Panjim was an ethereal lunch at this little Goan cafe called Viva Panjim. From the Mackarel rechado to the pork sausage preparations to even the Vindaloo - etched in memory forever. Zomato says 800 for 2, I say 2000 for 6. What a bonus!
North Goa isn't North Goa this time of the year -- it's more like a slightly louder and brighter south Goa. But we were blessed with great cloudy weather and a rampaging sea which made morning teas and walks more memorable than ever.
The fearless adventurer in me didn't let the ominous clouds or dubious faces come in the way of exploring. Thank Goodness!
Lastly this trip was about old friendships and new - to rediscover them in a whole new light, and to cherish them in a whole new way.
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