Summer Bummer!

Right! So what have I been up to this summer, not much really.  Yes, there was this short and sweet trip to Las Vegas with my girls from undergrad (and a husband for some reason) … Vegas is vain, and no matter how hard I try and accept the vanity of ‘Vegas Baby’, really it’s crap . The sites were boring, the hotel architecture tacky, interiors even worse, the city lights at best mediocre, and the promise of ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ sadly pathetic, because if getting mindlessly drunk ought to be a big secret, then woohoo… you have a story to tell.  Went for a male strip show , which did take my breathe away, I pride myself in thinking I don’t fall for the obviously good looking ones in life without good reason (Matt Damon’s a Harvard dropout alright!)  , especially the kinds who drop their pants for a living, but sigh, ten minutes in and I was swooning to the bulging glistening muscles ,the cart wheels and pelvic thrusts. For those two hours I truly believed that the 12 hunky Australians on stage were the only decent beings on this planet worth splurging on. Then there were martinis on high heels, short dresses way up my knees, and googly eyes with boys in the club, my friend and I soon realized we weren't really enjoying ourselves, somehow attention from horny drunk men  and spring break undergrad boys isn't fun anymore, if ever it was. And I did make some money on the gambling floor; the rush of winning was pretty cool, and then I lost some, and a dealer yelled at me, that wasn't very cool. 

To save our trip from utter disappointment, my friend and I decided to go see the Grand Canyon on our last day in Vegas.  Both of us had packed extra pairs of pumps with our luggage but no sneakers, so we bought warm socks and trudged along the rim of the grand valley in awe and flip flops.  It was gorgeous, the day was clear, the temperature a crisp 65F, and the drive engaging. Our guide was a delightful Chilean, Angelo, who wouldn’t shut up and shared wonderful stories about the Mafia time that was, the Hoover Dam and the charming little town of Seligman, which inspired the movie Cars’ backdrop.  The view from atop the Canyon is truly mesmerizing, it tingles your senses, as our guide droned on about the age of the rocks, the geological transformations et all, I went into a reverie, I felt accomplished looking at the view, of finally being there, as if that had been the aim all along, The Canyon inspires that, so I’m glad we made the trip.  Oh yes, there was this sweet extremely pseudo French bistro Mon Ami Gabi, right opposite the Bellagio, we had a lovely meal there, with the fountain rising and singing at twilight , there was no heist to cheer to, but sitting there with my best friend felt sufficiently awesome, the bread was good.

I finished my year of corporate residency at the company I was working at, they offered me a full time position, I felt they courted me well, and now I await my paperwork to come through. I ended my residency on a high note of appreciation from all, especially from my manager, he has become a mentor of sorts, I find myself constantly seeking his guidance, approval and recognition, he definitely inspires loyalty in me.   And then there were classes, homework, midterms and finals... I trudged along, completing things that need to be completed, attending to stuff that needed attention, shopping online during my minutes of respite, in a way I’m glad there weren’t too many of that.  But then I have spent a lot of time stressing that summer is wooshing by, and not letting me ride a bike, row a boat, climb a mountain and wander on lost trails and truly experience the wonders of New England. I really need that driving license I have been a complete bum about it.

Then there was a Miami- Keywest holiday this past weekend with my oldest friend, his wife and friends of his … at best it was a lot of fun, but more so awkward, as I honestly found myself bored to death, no fault of my traveling companions, they are lovely people. Lucky for me, Keywest is beautiful, and our hotel room even more so. I do hope to go back soon, maybe a bit more alone seeking solitude, ride the bicycle around town for a longer period of time, and eat way more fish than I did. The highlight of my trip was my visit to the Hemingway house in Keywest.  A lovely colonial two storied mansion style house, lot of space within the house for sea breeze to dance around.  The bathrooms especially are tastefully done, each bathtub overlooking the grounds, I can only imagine Ernest soaking in and just staring out. The lush grounds around the house reminded me of my garden in Kalina, where I’d love to get lost, walk around and muse with Elsa by my side. Six to seven tabby cats live on the property now, fat lazy things, they look so secure and at home, it was fun watching them. I remembered that one quote from his books : ' Never go on trips with anyone you do not love' and figured why Vegas wasn't so bad after all. 
My terrible tan is a big damper, though wouldn't trade it for the long hours bumming on the beach and in water, snorkeling, jet skying and splashing around. 

I'm glad for the break though, managed to read and re read quite a few books. 

So summer rolls by…yawn!!!

Goa Travelogues : Soliloquy

More on Goa : click here 

As the last day drew to an end, I marveled at myself, I never talk to people so easily, never smile so often while walking the roads. My body feels great. I walk beaches and streets in a bikini top and shorts. I find me shedding so many of my inhibitions and even more misconstrued perceptions. I feel evolved. I have never been out of my country and yet the past few days make me feel I have travelled scores. It has made me re think my life, my goals, of what is important, rather what should be. That things can be so simple is actually possible. Past few years I have hemmed and hawed about my life and my ambitions. The rat race has made me so frustrated, so wanting, I am forever struggling. Maybe I am meant to do something else maybe that is why I am struggling so much more than usual. Should I just stop? There is so much effort, but hardly any heart in the effort I realize. My ‘Why god Why? ‘Question feels less overwhelming. The soft sand under my feet feels like a reassuring pat on the back. The sea breeze an embrace. I cannot help but be poetic and quixotic. I can see the beach shack tingling in evening lights.

The worries still linger. As the sun sets on my last day, a deep melancholy sets in. If things work out, I might not be back for a while, and if they don’t … I slightly shudder. I need more sunny days on the beach to be a complete convert. Complete evolution of disenchantment might take more than mere 6 days.

Past year hasn’t been very straightforward with me. Most people I know actually all, have embarked on some path — be it right or wrong. But I see them flying at least, which will take them somewhere, anywhere. I am at the edge, flustered to take a leap, for no direction seems welcoming. Hence heart lacks in the effort I have put in, n I find myself letting go of chances and of opportunities. Not knowing one’s heart is always unpleasant.

At present my problems back in Bombay (my life that is) remains just the same, I sigh as I see my problems peeping from a distance, far beyond the horizon. They seem so out of context here. In a day, I will be on the other side of the rising sun. But now I am happy to know I have a place to escape to. Happy to be introduced to a ‘Me’ I wasn’t well acquainted with.

This has been a holiday I have read about, seen on TV, fantasized about, so serendipitous and gay and so close to home. Maybe my state of mind and state of being set me on this path of self discovery, and I realize it is a long quest. My need to be alone and disconnected triggered a dormant personality I wasn’t aware of. The people I met… Andrea, Diana, Brad, Liz, Niels , Sally , Petra ,Romeo, Pramod and myself . I want to travel more and write about it. For in writing the experience lingers longer, perspective resurges’ in a different light, feels more romantic, more meaningful and extended. I find myself dreaming Spain, Finland and New Zealand, but the fantasies feel more grounded, not an illusion anymore. The task feels more sincere than most things I do.

GoaTravelogues

Goa Pics

More on Goa : click here

Goa tavelogues : Last 3 days

More on Goa : Click here 

The last three days, I divided my time and my lazy hours between Kola beach and Agonda. One morning we trekked up to Agonda , a four kilometer hike I think and spent the whole day there –lounging, eating, playing the frizzbee , swimming and eating some more. Of course a considerable time was also spent in chatting up with other tourists.

We ate at the Greek place (Agonda) one evening, where we made some wonderful friends – Diana , a hypnotherapist and Andrea, a flight attendant . It is amazing how people meet and how several connections just unfold. We met them coz we did not have a table and ended sharing a table with them. Diana and Andrea knew Niels and Rachel (our Galgibag friends) and in turn had already heard about us. I still remember the look on each of our faces, when suddenly Andrea interjected –“Wait a minute… “.Everyone got so excited, and suddenly we all weren’t strangers anymore. Further on, Suveer and Diana found out that they follow the same school of yoga, and have also trained under the same teacher at some point. They were ecstatic, as both gushed hawed and chattered away excitingly about yoga while Andrea and me looked on. The next day they came over to Kola beach, and we spent a lovely afternoon together. Met them again in Bombay, where Andrea related her fantastic, truly Bollywood style love story that unfolded the last few days she was there. Diana stayed on for few more weeks in Bombay to practice yoga, we met often , an amazing amazing lady with an interesting life story.

We spent a lot of time with Brad and Liz too, another wonderful couple from Cornwall. Retired and living it up. They have been coming to Goa for 10 years now. We shared so many stories and so much of our histories. Thanks to them, we discovered another tiny beach close to Kola, which was incredible and so isolated.

Then there was Petra, travelling with her mom and aunt. Back home Petra has a chocolate van. Little did I realize then, that she wasn’t simply making and serving milkshakes. Check her out:

blog: http://www.chocstarblog.blogspot.com/

website: http://www.chocstar.co.uk/home.html

Foodies and chocolate lovers ..rejoice!! :)

She had so many questions about Mumbai, she was reading Suketu Mehta’s Maximum city and was much intrigued. We spent a lovely morning doing yoga on the beach and slurping on pancakes.

Sally and Fran were an absolute riot. Fran especially. We spent one evening playing Adupuli Attam, this ancient game Suveer was carrying. Sally was travelling alone, and had some wonderful tales to relate. She was missing her boy friend, a tree surgeon so much. I was much intrigued by what a tree surgeon does. Fran’s knowledge of Goa was incredible.

It was amazing how many people I met and befriended. Most had such intriguing professions—Dog trainers, tree surgeons, thinker, chocolate van driver, hypnotherapist and the likes. Conversation was so easy. Everyone was friendly and eager.

I spent the other hours of the day floating in the calm lagoon, reading reading and more reading.. Downing pancakes at odd hours and going for long walks in the evening. The nights had gotten slightly chilly; I’d snuggle under a blanket on a beach bed and stare into the dark ocean, the lit sky and into my thoughts. One afternoon I went for a long swim in the lagoon past the resort and the next one into the jungle behind. It was really quiet and so green. The water was cold and at one point, I sat still in the water, a thousand tiny fish came around me, I could feel their tiny bodies against mine, it was fantastic.

I also had 'my spot'. The lagoon would join the sea by way of a tiny stream which was flowing over the beach past big rocky boulders. The water was very shallow; it felt like a water bed, the sand was soft and wet, the flow of the water gentle. I would lie on the water, perch my head on the soft rock and read or just stare at the blue sky.

Day 3 : Galgibag

More on Goa : click here

Galgibag

http://wikimapia.org/256546/Galgibag-Beach

A remote beach further than Talpona, one of the last beaches of South Goa, it is also a turtle nesting beach. Lined with fir and pine trees, the beach stretches long. As usual, only visitors other than the locals were foreigners.

I really don’t know how we got there. But the drive/ride to Galgibag beach is beautiful. Past green hills, winding roads, paddy fields, old Goan villas, rivers and more rivers. If you wish to get there, ask the foreigners you meet on Patnem, or the boho ones speeding on bikes. Most know. Locals might blank out.

The access road to the beach is narrow; we whir past tons of foreign tourists who seemed at home. It is a small village, with rustic old Goan homes, few hutments, churches, bungalows with large courtyards and tall towering coconut trees. I spot scores of foreign nationals lounging, walking with cloth bags, peeking from houses, eating and sipping tea at chai shops and ambling along. Most are long terms tourists, who come often, living on months at a stretch and some are even permanent residents. There are no shacks on the beach. Apparently not allowed. We spot some Russian sign boards. The locals still serve food to the visitors. Picnic tables are set under the fir trees. It is picturesque.

MEET NIELS, a German dog trainer and criminal (he introduced himself like that) and Rachel – a New Zealander teacher and ardent cyclist.

We got talking with Niels and soon both Niels and Rachel joined us on our table.

Niels has been coming to Goa past 8 years. In November 2009, he was involved in an accident. An accident where three Indians were injured and Niels had half his face, from forehead to the nose cut. I also noticed deep scars on his thighs. Stuck at the government hospital in Goa, Niels describes the doctor treating him nothing less than a butcher.

Passport impounded, money over, insurance cover gone, Niels is stuck in heaven under hellish conditions. Yet we couldn’t help but laugh at his situation.

‘You could be stuck at a worse place you know’ I couldn’t help but philosophize with him. He laughs, so says everyone I meet. A dog trainer by profession, Niels and I talk for a while, about dogs, about my dog Elsa, and some more. A good looking guy, the scars on his face only add to his enigma. I found myself enamored. J .

Rachel is a teacher from New Zealand. Loves to cycle. Travelling alone, the initial impression of a shy demure girl soon evaporates when Rachel relates her travelling tales. She has bicycled through Indonesia and another country I can’t quite remember (must be eyeing Niels that time…sigh). Her cycle was parked outside, as she checked the position of sun to determine the time she had to bicycle back to Agonda. She wants to travel north now, maybe Leh. We express our reservation as she’s alone, she smiles, I find friends, she says smiling at Niels.

We bid good bye to the pretty people. Wished Niels the very best of luck. His court hearing was in 3 days. I thought that’ll be the last of them I’ll ever see, little did I know.

The water in Galgibag is magnificent. The sea bed is flat, the flat beach extends deep into the water. If lucky, you might spot the Olive Ridley turtle. As the gentle waves crashed against my body, I found myself floating into oblivion, wishing time would just still, as I watched the top of the fir trees gently sway in the breeze, nirvana seemed close by.

Further down the beach another site treated me, the Galgi River meets the sea. The patch is slightly rocky, the backdrop lined with green hills and coconut trees. The salt water lagoon rests on one side of the beach and the sea on the other side. The beach stretches till the union of the water bodies. On either side I see people lounging in water, some liketh the sea, and some the lagoon. It was unbelievable to be at such a spot, I marveled at my day, of how things collaborated through the day –the people, the food and goodness so that I could finally dip my body in the lagoon and float, while listening to the waves crashing on the other side. .

Day 3: Agonda -- Patnem -- GalgiBag.

 (more on goa : click here ) 

Day 3: Agonda à Patnem -à GalgiBag.

Sometimes we have good days and sometimes bad. But having a good good day on an already brilliant holiday is something one cherishes even more so.It was serendipity at its best.

The day was long and eventful. We discovered 3 beautiful beaches, met some wonderful people and ate really good food.

The day started with a dolphin ride, a short motor boat trip to the sea, a few kilometers off the coast. It is a 600 rupees trip. Out in the open sea, it is quite peaceful, the thrill of spotting dolphins is contagious; we managed to spot ten to twelve dolphins. Magnificent creatures dolphins are, out in the wild the enigma increases four square. Few even put up a show – they jumped out of water, and flipped twice.

On the boat, we meet Brad and Liz, a British couple from Cornwall living at the same resort as us. A retired professor and nurse, they have been coming to Goa for the last ten years and know Goa better than most people who claim to know Goa. At 70 and 63 years, Brad and Liz are truly living it up. . We convinced our boatman to drop us at the beach next to Kola-- Agonda Beach. On Liz’s recommendation and reference we break feasted at a shack called Gratitude.

Agonda Beach

Agonda beach is great. Stretches long almost 3 kilometers , the water is calm and shallow till a long way in, so a weak swimmer can definitely go deep and still feel safe. Occasionally dolphins come close to the shore and swim around. Agonda feels like a global settlement. A single dirt path ambles along with shacks, hutments, small houses, a line of coconut trees and other shrubs. Cows and buffaloes often cause traffic jams, and you can hear faint squeaks of protest from bikers. Most are patient as no one is really in a hurry. Simple and amiable village folks walking, loitering , lazing around, sitting on benches , eating home cooked rice and fish curry at the road side dhaba and chai shops, many on scooters and bicycles ambling along.. only the so called village folks can be Germans, Brits , Greeks or Asians or scores of east Europeans -- name a country, you have a representative.

We ate at Gratitude.The moment we took Brad and Liz’s reference, Rajesh the owner, became a friend for life

Break Feast: Israeli Breakfast – Hummus, Pita bread, fries, a green salad, black coffee (as Goa usual horrible) and orange juice.Then a Chocolate pancake and more juice.

Pramod our server is far from home. The long hours of work and no extra time wage makes him a bit whiny. Every morning he wakes up at 5 am, goes for a long run on the beach and is a karate black belt. He wants to get back to Nepal and complete his higher secondary, but hates farming, so reckons he’ll have to leave home soon. He says years in cities have made him lazy, so says a young boy who works 15 hours a day. He likes bartending and claims his Caprioshkas are the best. In conversation I found myself telling him my life story, we spoke in hindi at length. He’s yet to master English, and was thrilled when an Indian trotted along, he sighs that it is such a rarity. Imagine hearing that in India. I learnt that he was once working in Pune, at a restaurant quite close to my college. We gushed and hawed. My second glass of juice I noticed was in a bigger glass and more thick.

We watch Vishnu, his fellow compatriot welcome few extremely white girls with –‘ Hellloooo , welcome beauties, how arh youh ? , Pramod shakes his head; he has a long way to go. I hope he comes back next year; I’d like to meet him again.The day was going great, only 10:30 am, and I’d already met and befriended some wonderful people.

After the huge meal, my friend and I hopped on a bike, courtesy Rajesh and took off. The plan was to hit Patnem and the famous South Goa beach -- Palolem. We never reached Palolem.

PATNEM BEACH

The beach is indeed lovely; right blend of frolic and peace. Not too isolated as Kola and slightly more urban than Agonda. Way less crowded and much cleaner than Palolem. The water is great similar to Agonda’s. One can walk way into the sea, splash and even swim. The sea feels calmer here.

A great place to eat would be Sabai-Sabai. An enchanting place on the main beach road, this is Sabai Sabai’s first season.

Meet Mario – An Italian, the owner, the chef and the bartender. I found Mario an endearing character, extremely stressed and amiable.

I sip on one of the best iced coffee I have ever had. We take a look at the rooms and the beach huts. The design, the style, the high standards and the affordable rates blow me over. Mario is warm and slightly temperamental, but I hear all Italians are that way. His rates are nominal. Ranging from rupees 600 for beach huts to 1000 for single rooms. The rooms are comfortable with modern bathrooms, something which most other establishment provides at much higher rates. If I wasn’t in love with my Kola beach, I‘d shift.

Mario even lets us use his shower in his room (as all rooms were occupied) to freshen up. Classy guy I must add.

We chat up with another employee there, Amita, a shy Goan girl. In conversation she opens up, and seems thrilled that we speak Hindi. She suggests a beach; not very many people know about, it piques our interest.

And off we go …to Galgibag.Back from Galgibag ... We head back to Sabai Sabai . To thank Amita and try Mario’s food. I wasn’t disappointed.

Mario cooked and served an exotic sea salad with crab, mussels, prawns and fish and oven baked thin crust authentic Italian pizza. Sabai Sabai is probably one of the few places you’ll get good coffee. Mario is warm and a brilliant cook, he has an open kitchen, and I could see the stressed Italian cook with a zest and intrigue quite enchanting. Plus a meal made with so much heart was bound to taste great.

To top that, the Tiramisu made me weak in the knees. It was as if Mario was in love with me, and had just made it for me. It made me feel special. I have never tasted tiramisu so good, so rich and so fresh.

Goa Travelogues -- Day 2

Day 2: Blue Lagoon, Kola beach.

The Blue lagoon portrays a sense of remoteness, yet it is not isolated. A small beach tucked in deep . The bio diversity engaging and the ubiquitous tranquility ensuring.

Wiki Map -Kola beach

I wake up in a thatched hut, which is somewhat rickety –the floor boards creek, the wooden bed looks ancient but soft, and the hard board floor is covered with a red carpet all around. The single room hut, erected on stilts, is divided into the bedroom and bath/toilet by a wooden partition which means the toilet and bed are barely a few feet away from each other; I did not mind it at all. Though sometimes, I can hear my roommate taking a dump.*Shudder*

There is no electricity till 6pm, and in the evening the resort is powered by a generator. The lack of electricity is hardly of any consequence; take it from a city girl who loves her warm bath and light in her bathroom even during the day.

The slightness and bareness of the hut with the beach and lagoon as fore is like a lesson in contentment and how it ought to be.

My hut is right by the fresh water lagoon. From my room, I can see the calm lagoon, the beach, and the clear blue sky, a line of coconut trees, a few shrubs and the crashing waves. I breathe in deep, close my eyes, and open them to the same sight. I smile.

Meet Romeo, Sandeep, Nana, and Anil –the care takers, waiters, bartenders, fisher men and the go-to guys. When in the Blue Lagoon resort, you will need to get to know these guys well to make sure your stay is far more pleasant. Befriend them. They are a great bunch of guys - kind, hospitable and chatty with their broken English, which they insist on speaking.

Morning Breakfast: Scrambled eggs, toasts, sautéed mushrooms, orange juice and Nutella pancake. Ram Singh the cook knows his craft well...

Swam in the lagoon, got tanned and then some more. Lounged on a hammock, read my book. Splashed some more. Watched east European babes sun bathe, they have such beautiful bodies.

Lunch: Golden fried squid, Grilled fish and chips and a chilled Tuborg.

Nap.

Chatted with few Brits… chatted some more… We were the only Indians on the beach.

Grimaced when the Brits complimented me on my English. Why the surprise ehh!!!

Splashed in lagoon, splash splash slpash.

The day ambles along. There is no cell phone network, I am glad. I have come here to disconnect, to be left alone. I walk on the cool evening sand, watch the sun set. I meet people from different lands, who don’t know my story; it is a break from familiar. Everyone seems calm and content. It is a relief.

Goa travelogues -- Madame Bovary

More on Goa : click here


I am reading Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert. I have been wanting to read this book for so long. It is an interesting read 'FOR ME 'on a holiday like this or otherwise ...simply because the book expresses a state of mind seemingly ubiquitous and familiar...

" No matter, she still wasn't happy,she never had been. What caused this inadequacy in her life? Why did everything she leaned on instantaneously decay? ... Oh, if somewhere there were a being strong and handsome, valiant heart, passionate and sensitive at once, a poet's spirit in an angel's form, a lyre with strings of steel,sounding sweet-sad epithalamiums to the heavens , then why should she not find that being? Vain dream!

.........

Every smile concealed a yawn of boredom, every joy a misery. Every pleasure brought its surfeit; and the loveliest kisses only left upon your lips a baffled longing for a more intense delight.

--

PS : I am not recommending this book as a holiday read ... Just that I love classics and it is a good one.

Goa Travelogues

The past year hasn’t been kind. Ups and downs -- the downs outscoring the ups. Made some decisions, I regret even before the consequences have come to surface. I wait for the results and the consequences. The stress and the anxiety of it make my days very difficult to get by.
When my boy friend offered Goa, I decided to take it up.
I think my holiday started the day I decided to go to Goa.

Day 1: In the train.
I am in the train and I know I have over packed. My fellow commuters are an interesting bunch - An uncle –nephew duo from Bombay, a Swede from Ireland and an extremely pious gentleman from Sinhudurg.
The journey is long. I can never read on a train. But the lively bunch around me engages in interesting discussion, and I find my time passing well. The old gentleman (the uncle) knows Goa well and suggests some interesting places to go—most are Hindu temples. . The Swede is somewhat lost, it is his first time in India and he hasn’t planned his stay here very well. So we all give our two cents each on where to go and what to do. He is patient.
We were travelling by AC 3 tier, Mandowi Express, which starts from Dadar, Mumbai at 7:15 am.
If one plans ahead in time, and wants to travel by train –the night train Konkan Kanya is the best option. It is an overnight journey that one can sleep through and reach Goa the next morning, with the whole day in front of them. If the holiday budget is not too stretched, or if one can plan ahead in time, flights too are a good way to get to Goa.I personally would never recommend the bus. It is torturous, uncomfortable, and long and can really mess up your otherwise great holiday.
We get off at Mudgaon station, the last stop, since we had decided to spend our time only in South Goa.

Day 1: The cab ride.
The 650 rupees cab ride was uneventful, till a certain point. Our cab driver seemed rather scared of driving through the dark and lonely jungle road. He admonished us for not taking the train which reaches Goa in the morning. He whined about the dark roads, late hour (it was 8 pm) and the long distance. He loudly wondered why we chose to stay in an isolated beach unheard of.
Our driver finally lost all cool, when we hit the jungle track which lead to our heavenly dwelling on kola beach. The access road to Blue Lagoon Resort is somewhat tedious, dangerous and in the dark even more ominous. Our driver finally abandoned us in the middle of nowhere and turned back. He swore at the resort people, who had come to lead the way on their bikes, cursed us for wanting to live in such a place and drove away in a huff. His panic was comical. But I wasn’t laughing anymore, when the last light left with the taxi. We were abandoned on top of a hill with our luggage, in midst of heavy under growth, unmarked rutted jungle path, no lights and a bunch of scruffy youngsters on bikes.
We finally reached the resort half trekking and half three on a bike. I held on tight to my two bags (never carry more than a single bag to Goa…never) , the bumps, jerk, the loud whirring added much to my fears.
I was quite scared; I kept imagining a leopard to jump up on to the path in front of us. The jungle around was dense and dark, the road broken, I could barely make out the road and made a mental decision not to traverse this path at night. The evening air was cool, the sky was clear, shimmering with a million stars—a sight not common in the city and I could hear the waves—a gentle gurgle followed by a splash.
The sight that greeted me at the bottom of the hill was the sight I had longed for over a year, ever since my last trip to Goa, when we had chanced upon this little beach and the resort quite by accident.
It has taken me a year to get here, but I am finally here.
PS: These guys really don’t want to be found.