Getting sick about writing about Goa now. It’s bad enough not being there now, it’s worse that I’m writing it at work, after spending all day scraping back 100 year old paint. Any, there is still loads I want to talk about on Goa so I’m gonna continue. I left you all sipping beer mentally at vagator beach as the sun set (is that the right? Or is it sunset?). With the link of beer I’m gonna talk about alcohol in Goa for a bit then I’ll tell you what happened in the last few days of Goa. Alcohol is legal in Goa, which is quite a luxury as many states in India are dry states. I.e. no alcohol is allowed there. In fact in Maharhastra, the state Bombay is in, you are only supposed to be able to buy and drink alcohol if you have a permit, but this is rarely if ever enforced. Goa has its own alcoholic beverage too, called feni. It’s made from cashews or coconuts (cashew feni is supposed to be the best). It’s potent stuff, ranging from 20-40% and has the worst smell I can imagine. But put a bottle in front of a few Goans and they’ll drink it up like water. I personally only like it with pineapple juice, and then it’s actually an unreal beach drink.
They also have a beer called king’s which is quite good. In India as a whole there is only one beer that matters, and that is Kingfisher. Though all the big brands are available (Heineken, Fosters, etc.) it dominates the market.
Back to Goa, after Vagator we went back to the hotel. As everyone was going their separate ways me and Gayle decided to treat ourselves (more!) and went for a lovely meal together at an Italian restraint in a converted Goan house. All the seats were outside and it was quite cool. Even though it was on the side of a road you wouldn’t even notice with the big wall and trees. But my god, the food there was unbelievabubble. The steak, oh the steak there was the best and we even packed in a delicious soufflé after. It was so good that on the last evening, even though it was quite expensive (405rs for the steak medallions). The next day was flea Market day at Anjuna, so off we went after a lazy morning lounging around the room. Unfortunately the boys didn’t come as they had to go meet friends so It was just Gayle, Katie, Pete and I. Gayle and me took our scooter and the lads took the taxi. However, Anjuna is quite a long beach, and we unluckily ended up at opposite ends, us following signs and the lads getting driven straight to the flea market.
It took nearly 3 hours (not searching but wandering around) to meet up in the flea market, and what a place that is. It’s full of tourists and people trying to rip off tourists. But it is a great place to find bargains, if you know how to haggle. It’s crazy the amount of people who don’t and even then haggle badly. The best example is when I asked the price of a small bongo drum from this seller, he quoted 500rs to me, and I laughed and walked away. The price my friend got was 150 at vagator. However, I was a little foolish as I didn’t really want the drum, so he kept putting his price down. Eventually, he ended up at 100rs and I upset him so much as I still didn’t buy it. I felt a little bad leading him on like that, but I was also well pleased I haggled someone down that much too!
The next few days were spent going to and fro from the beaches, I really can’t be bothered giving that much detail, went to Arambol beach further north than Morojim, which turned out not to be the quite haven we expected but a buzzing centre of tourism.
Heard one tourist looking for guru ‘shwati’ for some yoga classes. That’s the sort of tourists I most associate with Goa. Fellows who wouldn’t look out of place at an organic farm in West Cork. I thoroughly recommend going there. And if you do, go for as long as possible. I stayed 1 week, I’d happily stay there for months. Goa is the sort of place where you really can get lost, suppose that’s why hippies love it here.
1 comment:
Nice story Paul,we're on our way!
Hugh and Ann-Marie
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