Wednesday, 5 March 2014

Beaches and Biking


In this blog: quiet beaches, a rural village, a one armed beach poet and a funk-soul party.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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
After a couple of lazy days on the beach at Palolem, it was time to get out and about and see the local area, so naturally I hired a bicycle; a pretty terrible creaky single-geared Indian thing, and hit the road. Since arriving in Goa it's been about 32° and sunny every day, but this day it was even hotter, maybe 'cause of a lack of breeze. Knowing the present weather at home, I know I'm getting no sympathy discussing this! Drowning in my own sweat, I followed my nose and went inland through a small town, along quiet roads, over a large river, through some nice jungle and some small villages. I passed some locals removing silt from the river by hand, saw a very Indian take on what a Catholic Church should look like, and went along a road that cut through the middle of some beautiful vivid green paddy fields, fringed all around by palm trees. It ended up being about a twenty mile loop, which eventually led me back to the coast.

Galgibad beach, aka Turtle beach
Turtle beach, when I eventually reached it was a revelation - a very peaceful and undeveloped place with very few people around; just a few simple huts and cafés set back from the beach amongst the trees, and a mile-long stretch of sand. It was a total contrast to busy Palolem and I absolutely loved the tranquility of it - a rarity in India. In fact, it was like back in Cornwall for a couple of hours.

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
After enjoying the peace and solitude of Turtle beach the day before, I headed south on the hire bike again, to another remote sandy bay backed by a long line of trees, which was even quieter and less developed again. So much so, that I was the only person on this mile long stretch of sand some of the time - a complete surprise in the country where you can't normally escape people for even a second. After a relaxing day of reading on the beach and in the makeshift cafe behind, I braved the local dogs on the journey back. Indian dogs, stray or owned, seem to go a little loopy after dusk. I was warned of this by a local, and carried some stones in my pocket to try and scare them off when needed, but these were hardy dogs and I still had to pedal pretty fast to escape the blighters a time or two. 

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
After cycling north about six miles and spending the day at Agonda beach, I returned to Palolem and that evening and bumped into Emily and Milly at a beach cafe, so had a few drinks with them and a couple of their friends. A young Indian guy came up to us and introduced himself as 'the beach poet'. With a large number '7' tattooed on his neck, and his left arm missing he was quite the character, and makes his living by reading poetry to people on the beach in return for tips. Being late at night he gave us a free poem, maybe as an appetiser, hoping for us to scream 'more poetry, MORE POETRY!'. To be fair he was actually pretty funny, and it was quite a novel idea. Only in India.

21st Feb
Beer time with Aussie Shaun
My Australian friend Shaun, who'd I'd previously hung around with in Rishikesh and Mumbai arrived in Palolem, along with Oz (coincidental name) - his German mate of Kurdish-Turkish origin; a switched on and funny guy. We met up at nearby Patnem beach for a sunset beer and ended up having a really good laugh and talking crap for hours. Walking back later, I came across Aurelia and Christophe in a bar, a French couple I'd met a few days before so finished the night having a beer and talking to them before yet another late bedtime.

22nd Feb
Ride to Chapoli dam
Village in the hills near Palolem
Cycled inland a few miles into the mountains to Chapoli dam, a place that I saw on the map that turned out to be well off the tourist radar. With a steep hill, one gear on my bike, and once again 32° sun with no breeze, I was a sweaty mess. With no-one else in sight, I sat by the quiet lake for a while relaxing, watching eagles flying overhead. Cycling further up into the hills, I reached a dead end at a remote village and stood there for a few minutes, looking around at the basic houses, dried-out rice terraces and a volleyball area, a sport which seems popular in Goa. Some women were drying out rice grains on the concrete playground of the local school, and a few buffalo wandered the roads on their own. A lad in his twenties came and talked to me in broken English, neither of us really understanding each other. 

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
Riverbed labourers
Indian spotted eagles flying overhead at Chapoli dam
Villagers drying out rice grains

No comments: