How many times have you begun a new year waking up in a hut on a beach, meandering down to the restaurant canopy on the beach to eat breakfast while laying down on duvets, then getting to go for a morning swim in the warmest ocean water while splashing
around with some big waves? Anyone? Well…I know that up until 2008…my answer would have been no. That was exactly though, how our day began. We spent the rest of the morning just lying lazily on the beach, nothing more exciting than that…One thing though, I did have an interesting interaction with one of those women who walk up and down the beach selling stuff. On most of the beaches here, you h
ave these women or men that walk up and down all day long selling all kinds of things. From fresh fruit that they cut up right there for you (That’s my favorite, I mean how often while on a beach can you say I want a fresh watermelon and have it brought right to you? Sometimes the convenience here is amazing!) to sarongs and pashminas, weird toys, drums (That’s the weirdest one…I mean why would I, a tourist, want a drum? Where would I put it??), jewelry, etc. Sometimes the amount of stuff these people are carrying is out of this world. You see them walking on sand with all of it on their heads all day in the hot sun…it’s quite a work out. I wis
h there was a way for me to buy from all of them, but really, that’s just not practical…there’s so many of them. And, sadly because there are so many of them, they actually are quite annoying. I mean, constantly having someone come up to you to sell you something, “Madame, sarong, sarong?” does not play into my idea of a relaxing, peaceful time on the beach. Anyways, so even as early in the morning as it was, there were tons of women roaming up and down. At one point a young girl and even younger girl (maybe 10 or so) came up to sell some jewelry, and then ended up taking a rest by my chair. I got to talk to them, and it was really interesting. The older girl, first of all claimed to be only 14, which honestly was not possible…or was it? She spoke pretty good English, and told me how she was from the town of Hampi and had come to Goa to live with her brother and his family, because she could work here selling stuff to 
tourists better than at home. The only problem though, was that the area (part of the beach) that she was able to reach from her brother’s place was a not such a touristy spot, and so she rarely would sell much…maybe one or two things every 5 days! She said that there were no busses operating that area, and so for her to get anywhere she would need a bike or take a taxi, which she couldn’t afford. I thought it was so interesting (although I wasn’t sure how much of it was true), because it was a classic example of how simply providing access to finance for these small-scale businesses/entrepreneur activities may not always be enough, how other areas will also need to be developed before they can truly generate income, i.e. in this case better access to transportation. Just interesting to think about…Anyways, so as much fun and as pleasant as the beach was, we were unable
to stay there too lo
ng, as we had a date that evening with a bus to Mumbai, leaving from the town of Panajim (about 30km south—aka 4 hours away). We quickly showered, said goodbyes to our friends, and started venturing out, unsure of how we were going to get anywhere…since, this was not a very populated or touristy area the amount of taxis and rickshaws were limited. Finally, we came across some taxis and bargained our way down to something reasonable, hiring it to take us to the nearest big town, Mapusa. From there we jumped a bus to Panaji, arriving with plenty of time to explore the city before our next bus.
Panaji (also knows as Panjim) is the capital of Goa and a very Portugese influenced city. It was surprisingly really really nice, quiet, colorful, and very un-Indian in a lot of ways. It’s sad that it doesn’t get that much attention. Most people bypass it going straight to the beach towns, but from my experience, in terms of Indian cities, it’s one of the nicest I’ve seen. Audrey and I had a blast just walking around, roaming the streets, taking tons and tons of pictures of the different buildings with fun Portugese signs and in brilliant colors and shades. The city was laid out over some hills, with parts above others. We got to hike up a big staircase to the top part, roaming around there it was sooooooooo quiet and peaceful. It was hard to believe we were in India without
the usual honking and beeping. The only bad thing was that the quiet was due to the fact that there weren’t that many people around…but there were stray dogs, and unfriendly ones. At one point we found ourselves forced to walk with sticks and stones in hand…just in case (I am not about to deal with rabies shots in India again…did that already once last year…not again!).
Walked out and pictured out, we turned to Lonely to find a place to eat before the bus. The Bible’s recommendation was for this awesome sounding place…but bad luck, it was closed when we showed up. We picked instead the second decent sounding place…which turned out to be nothing more than two tables outside some teeny tiny bar run by some woman in a old lady suit and with a deep voice. The funny thing though, was that seated at the other table was another set of tourists with a Lonely Bible, and soon after in came another pair (again Bible in hand). It is amazing how much influence Lonely can have on businesses! Unfortunately, it was a bad
recommendation, with the deep voiced lady saying the menu to us and then not having the ingredients on hand to actually make anything on it. So, we ending up leaving just as hungry as we came…not exactly the best start for a night bus.
Off to the bus stand we went. Since, we were taking a private bus, the bus stand was really nothing more than a chaotic parking lot where all the private busses come and park, no signs and no real order, and tons of middle-class Indian people milling around with too many suitcases for their own good. It kind of feels like its operated black market style or rather C
hinatown Bus style. The busses are all named weird things like Baby Jesus, Laxmi, ours was called Shiva, with the names written in BIG letters right on the bus. So, when you are looking for it you have to ask for the bus name, as in, “Shiva? Shiva?” It’s kind of funny. Well, our bus was no where to be found, and after much pushing and yelling and qu
estioning, we finally got placed in the spot it would eventually come to…it was late we were told…big surprise. Coincidentally though, the spot it was going to arrive at was located right by the street food vendors. Being the adventurous street food testers that we are, and also being hungry from not having dinner before we had fun. First, we got an appetizer of these weird shell ball things that they fill with some potatoe thing and then pour some sweet and spicy liquid on…not gre
at…but okay. The main course was excellent though, an omelette sandwich, grilled right in front of us. Finally, desert was a coconut…mmmmmm. =) The good food helped make the hour and half wait pass somewhat more eventfully. And, just as it was getting a little too dark to see anything and my butt was getting to sore to squat on my bag anymore, we heard the cry for “Shiva! Shiva!” and bolted to the bus, settling in for the last night bus/bus of the trip!
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