So, we were off to the land of the never ending parties, inexpensive booze and vast expnases of sea- Goa! With the ratio of 2:3 [boys:girls], the gang of 5- exhilarated and enthralled- packed bags with not just the necessaries, but energy and laughter as well. From the start, the two night and three day trip spelled gaiety.
With Sharath glued onto his video cam and Roopa looking frantically for her missing new phone, the journey began. We made for the only compartment in the 'sleeper' bus with no sleepers. Fifa, Hammy and Shatty busy fighting for eachothers phones and Ahamed and me watching all the fun, we created a havoc and left the compartment messy with 'jeerige methai' straggled all over the place. The 12 hour jouney seemed shortned with each of our music players blaring into our ears and the endless game of cards- played with the aid of the glaring light provided by my very own Sony Ericsson K550i.
When any trip is planned, the first thing to bother about would ideally be accommodation. In our case, it was taken care of. Shatty's uncle being a Captain, offered to extend his hospitality to us. 'INS Hansa' was our address whilst in Goa. We lived in a house that was parallel to the runway, had a beach overlooking the house and a butler to do the chores. The aforementioned beach, was a private beach (called Spring Beach) and the most clean of all the beaches I've seen in India.
Day 1 in Goa started with a speed ride to Vasco in the local bus. The very feeling of unhindered roads and lack of traffic set our adrenaline pumping. The wait for the chauffeur driven 'service car' was nothing in comparison to the elation we experienced driving into the naval base and being addressed as "CO saab ke guest/ Hansa House ke guest". After an exchange of friendly introductions followed by breakfast, we headed out to the Spring Beach.
To get to the Spring Beach, we had to climb down a fleet of stairs (it was more of a weed infested pathway camouflaged to look like stairs). The minute we landed on the shore, we ran amuck, into the beckoning arms of the sea. The salty welcome put away our quest for a water body. Fear stricken quivering bodies (read Hamsa and Roopa) found their feet ushered into the water. Reluctance at entering further soon gave way as the two held hands and pushed themselves into the depths. Neck deep water surrounded the boys as they made attemps to 'look at the waves from the bottom' and subsequently drowned themselves. I, caught between the playfulness (ludicrous-ness makes more sense) of the boys and helping the aquaphobic girls, made my peace by repeated attempts at back floating (eventually floating face down as that was the easier way around) and 'swimming' (in quotes 'cuz I ended up walking on my hands- sounds bizarre, ask the boys, they even made a joke about it). Having our fill of the beach, we made way to the shore (we even saw a dead fish on the banks, an exotic looking fish which Ahamed claims was a 'Moray's Eel' and is not usually found in India), had a couple of beers and re-entered the water. Our two hours and something tryst with the sea ended when our stomachs sounded louder than the waves.
<----- This was what it was, Leopard Moray Eel.Post lunch, we were an exhausted bunch of hoi polloi wanting to do nothing but laze (some wanted to watch a movie ("in Goa?!"- exactly my reaction) and grab a couple more of beer. Lethargy got the better of us, and each one of us hit the sack and awoke only after sunset. Since it was Diwali, there were squadrons of people coming in to wish their CO (Commanding Officer). To amuse ourselves, we burst a few crackers, tried to light the un-ignitable flower pots, and set out for dinner.
Dinner happened at Ba Joet's, a very British place (run by an Indian married to an Iranian) filled with phirangs. Music was live, with some guy singing out requests. Sharath, high on spirits (pun intended), was keen on singing karaoke and yours truly heard the practice session. I was only glad to have not heard him on the speakers (Okay, you weren't that bad Shatty)!
Day 1 ended on a happy note with two of the lot high on wine and fenny, and the others drunk on the salty water of the sea.
Day 2 was to be the most exciting of all with us hitting the actual 'Goa'! The one and a half hour of wait for the hired car with nothing in our tummies but bread, butter and cheese, got us all cranky.
Highlight: A Zen stopped in the middle of the road, Ahamed ran after it, the driver threw him a look amazement, Ahamed asked him to go around the round about, someother guy ran into the navigator's seat, the driver actually took the round about, looked at the waiting Ahamed- pointed hand out in ridicule and sent the rest of rolling on the ground caught in gags of laughter. It reminded me of our hindi movies where the hero-heroine run from opposite directions with arms wide open and the mid preson raises thinking the greeting is for him only to find a hurl of wind go past as the protagonists engage in an embrace.
After what seemed eons, a blue Matiz arrived and we made the necessary transactions to take the car for the day. On inspection we found that the Matiz was removed of its logo and in its place was stuck 'Chevrolet Spark'. The car was fed, and the wheels moved towards Dona Paula (only at Shatty's insistance at the place having a 'good breeze'). As fate would have it, the car 'gave haath' and we had to push it to get it started. On reaching Dona Paula, furstration seeped into our every move. Unable to kill Sharath, we made our way back to car, only to realise that the battery was completely dead and this time around, we had to push it up-hill. For over 20 minutes we pushed the car (with Ahamed)- much to the amazement of onlookers (the girls were in skirts/shorts). The unrelenting optimist that I am, did not give up, and pursued my determination to get the darned car alive, and almost single handedly pushed the wretched wreck of automotive till I heard the engine roar.
Day 2, what a start you'd think! But the day only got better. We bought Bacardi Breezers for 50 bucks (in B'lore its 40!), bargained at all the stalls along the beach side and bought nothing. Our vengeance would be sought only after the water sports. Shatty and I were keen on parasailing (our enthu influenced Ahamed, Roopa and Aneesha-oh! shatty's cousin, the CO's daughter- to join in). Having negotiated rates with one vendor, we started with Jet Ski.
Jet Ski: You sit on the water bike, the bike rider manoeuvres the vehicle and you ride over the waves. Sadly, the rider is in an profitable position as he sticks to you (it was gross for Hammy and me). Nonetheless, its a pretty ok ride, nothing great.
Banana Boat Ride: This, is a must do! As the name suggests, a 6 seater banana shaped float is tied to a motor boat, enthusiasts take a seat and hold onto the handle bars, the motor boat drags you and right in the middle, it takes a sharp turn, in the course tilts the banana boat and you are taken off guard and left to float (life jackets are provided) in the middle of the sea. Hammy, though hydrophobic, was brave enough to take the ride, but was petrified when dropped, and wouldn't let go of our hands. On repeated instructions, we let go each others hands and made way to the boat where the instructor helped us get back onto it. The course is repeated on your way back to shore. Costing 100 bucks per head, this water sport is worth much more money and leaves you asking for more! Roopa, you missed something.
Parasailing: A wonderful experience to fly with the sea beneath you calm and composed, the sky your abode lifting you higher, and in my case, the sun setting as a mark of respect to my flight! For 400 bucks, I thought it was a steal. The fact that I got sea sick mattered not when I was airborne and had birds and wind for company. Hammy, you missed something.
Lungs filled with air and hunger pangs hitting hard, we left Calangute in search for a good restaurant. 'Vrundavan' was chosen as our food shelter. A rather small place with a hell hole for a bathroom and stable looking place as the barbeque corner. The food tasted good though. Shatty and Roop had their first ever Tequila shot (served in cutting chai glasses instead of shot glasses. I had to smear the glass rim with salt 'cuz the moron of a waiter gallantly placed the unopened Tequila bottle before us and disappeared to no-man's land). The liquor took 15 minutes to settle and sent the prodigals reeling.
With thoughts of inviting beds and snugly quilts, the tired souls made their way to 'Ingo's'- Goa's night market. Ingo's is the place to be if one wants to observe lame foreigners, buying diddley junk for an extravagance. Shatty and I managed to lose our way in the maze of a market and set about looking for the rest. The others in the meanwhile, divided themselves in groups of two and went about looking for us. Roop and Aneesha won the 'treasure hunt' and we made our way back home.
Shatty, high on spirist, again, took the wheel as the rest of us clutched what we could get hold of (held on to dear lives actually) and prayed for mercy. The drunken monkey took a sharp turn on one of the curves and nearly lost the road, before he regained sense and drove peacefully.
Day 2 ended with hysteric laughter and my ballistic self left the others to believe that I was being possessed by a demon.
<---- a ballistic me driving Hammy insane Day 3 was the day of paradise! We woke up to rush into the Spring Beach, spent hours in the water before heading back for lunch. Post lunch, we were taken to the ATC (Air Traffic Control) where we saw two flights take off. We also got to virtually fly when we went to the Simulator. In the interest of the not so privileged (we were the luckier ones!), here is an excerpt on flight simulators from Wikipedia.
"A flight simulator is a system that tries to replicate, or simulate, the experience of flying an aircraft as closely and realistically as possible. The different types of flight simulator range from video games up to full-size cockpit replicas mounted on hydraulic (or electromechanical) actuators, controlled by state of the art computer technology."
<----- in the cockpit An overwhelmed lot, we were unable to lend words to our emotions. We were left with thankless gratitude towards the family that sheltered us for three days and took more than good care of us. Goodbye came too soon.
