In this blog: quiet beaches, a rural village, a one armed beach poet and a funk-soul party.
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This follows part one the Palolem blog - I kindly suggest read that one first. Only if you feel like it. You don't have to. No pressure.
18th Feb
Beautiful paddy fields |
Galgibad beach, aka Turtle beach |
Back in Palolem that night, I wandered along the beach to see what was occurring, bumping into Hans and his friends at a small gig along the way, where some Westerners played Indian instruments like the sitar and tabla. It was a bit embarrassing to watch, not cause they lacked skill, but was a bit like watching white people doing black rap music. The traditional Hindi songs were pretty dull, but their versions of western music such as a couple of Rolling Stones songs were plain awful. That's free gigs for you. Whilst sat there one of Hans' friends told us a yarn about how he was once installing a fountain in the home of Eric Clapton. Walking through his house he cheekily picked up a guitar thinking no-one was around and started playing it, only for Eric himself to walk in and rather than get annoyed, instead gave him a half hour guitar lesson. Lucky guy.
We later went to a silent disco - music in Goa is banned after 10pm, so a couple of venues hire out wireless headphones to party goers and the party continues. I'd tried this before at Glastonbury a few years ago and whilst fun, in many ways it's just a bit of a novelty, but ended up being good fun, and not as anti-social as it sounds, as you can talk easily in the silence when slip off the headset. I met and hung about with Emily and Milly for a quite a while - a couple of young and slightly snobby English girls who were actually quite fun, and later bumped into a group of people from Okehampton of all places. Can't get away from those Devonians.
19th Feb
Deserted Talpona beach |
Back in Palolem that evening, walking along the beach I found myself drawn like a mosquito to skin into a packed cafe along the beach, where funk-soul tunes were blaring out and the place was jumping. The music this time was absolutely fantastic, and I had a great time dancing with three French ladies in their sixties, friends of friends from the cooking course - they still had the moves. Afterwards on the beach outside, I hung around with German Hans, and English Emily and Milly, watching an Indian fire dancer. This guy was good - he starting by spinning a long pole with each end on fire, then moved on to fire poise, jumping through a flaming hoop, and his finale of filling his mouth with presumably paraffin (Indian H&S again), and blowing out huge fireballs into the night sky.
20th Feb
Sunset at Agonda beach |
21st Feb
Beer time with Aussie Shaun |
22nd Feb
Village in the hills near Palolem |
At sunset, I met up with Aussie Shaun and German Oz on the beach again for a sundowner, later watching a live band whilst sat on the beach, and having Chinese noodles and a beer or two. Another fun night.
23rd Feb
I headed southwards along the coast for the day across three different beaches, scrambling round the rocks to get between each. The further I got the quieter and more beautiful they were. I realised time was ticking and I'd been in Palolem over a week, when that night I found myself at the weekly reggae gig again, along with Aussie Shaun and German Hans. I got talking to a Scottish woman who was stereotypically loud and drunk, yet still composed enough to be good fun, and after sensible talk on Scottish independence, she helped me to fine tune my Scottish impersonation which was 'nearly impressive' apparently.
24th Feb
A quiet day of blog writing and catching up on sleep after quite a few late nights. The only highlight was hiring a sea kayak for an hour, and paddling round a small island just offshore. With the sun setting, gentle rolling waves passing by, and the odd fishing boat on the horizon it was one of thos perfect moments that really brings a smile to your face. A great ending to three weeks in Goa.
Goa had been infectious. I'd stayed a bit longer than I intended, but after six months on the move I had no issue with that. It was a holiday from a holiday. A time to relax, read, meet people, and party. I could never argue travelling is stressful, but it was good to have a break from getting up at a sensible hour, from being on the move all the time, from culture, poverty, uncomfortable transport, noise, seeing stuff and haggling. Imagine if you went to your favourite restaurant every single night, or spent all day, every day with your best friends; you'd probably get bored of it. The experience of travelling is similar - you can have too much of a good thing.
But it's a big exciting world with lots to see though, and after three weeks I felt suitably rested and ready to move on, ready to get back out there and make the most of the great opportunity I have.
Catholic church, Indian style |
Indian buffalo eating out with friends |
Indian spotted eagles flying overhead at Chapoli dam |
Villagers drying out rice grains |
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