Now let me get to writing about my adventures in the last few days (6/08 ~ 6/11). We left really late on Wednesday, 6/08 from JFK airport in NYC (11:50 PM), to fly to Doha, in the Middle East via a Boeing 777 operated by Qatar Airways (advertised as the world’s only 5 star airlines). In fact, it was a good experience, and I’d rate the airlines highly. The food was tasty (Peggy and I, in economy class, had the luxury of an aromatic and for airplane food, delicious, vegetarian Indian meal). We slept fairly well, and we landed in Doha a little ahead of schedule, with the smoothest airplane landing I’ve ever experienced.
Doha ~ well, we didn’t get to see much here, as we only had 2 hours, but the airport was interesting. The area for waiting passengers comprised a coffee shop, a food court with Indian and Middle Eastern foods, a small mosque, and a gigantic Duty Free store. After our cursory exploration, we left for Goa.
Goa airport (GOI) ~ a tropical and picturesque little airport. Upon passing through immigration, a funny thing happened. This police officer gave me about $150 US in cash to buy him four bottles of Johnny Walker Gold Label. The reason was that Peggy and I had two passports, and the Duty Free shop would only sell to people with passports, with a maximum of two bottles of liquor per person - an interesting experience to start our trip in Goa. After that we got our luggage, took a cab to our hotel, Castle House, arrived around 6 AM, and got ready for our first day of exploration.
Friday, June 10th ~ We started the day with a chat with an employee at Castle House, named Surain (he pointed to the sun and said “Su”, then with gesturing the falling of rain with his fingers he said “-rain”). We sat at the poolside bar and ordered our complimentary breakfasts (delicious little Indian vegetable patties, with toast, jam that tasted like candy, and coffee). I ordered a King’s beer and Peggy ordered a diet Coke.
We needed to figure out how to get around. The hotel and previous travelers to Goa recommended mopeds (known as “motor bikes” in Goa), so we rented a two-seater and got on our way. The bike costs us $5 a day. In India, Peggy and I are rich.
First attraction: Calangute Beach. By the way, our hotel is located in Calangute, a town in North Goa, known for its party scene. Our hotel costs us only $30 a night.
It was the first daylight we experienced in India. We turned the corner out of our hotel and onto the main street in Calangute. Wow! We were both shocked, jaws dropping, by the intensity of the vibrant community, bustling about chaotically, the scents, both good and bad, a lifestyle we’ve never experienced. We have seen this lifestyle in movies, YouTube videos, and such, but it’s nothing like experiencing it firsthand. Roads are unpaved or unmarked, street names are nowhere to be seen, and man shares the roads he built with the world’s creatures, be it beast, stray cat or dog, goat, or holy cow. I felt as one with nature in a different way from ever before. It was truly wonderful. I was filled with delight and also a sense of privilege to be – where I was, when I was, and with who I was with (my dearest Peggy).
Calangute Beach ~ what a culturally rich experience, though chaotic and even intimidating. We were immediately met by various hawkers selling jewelry, offering to take photographs, and such. The beach was littered with people, perhaps 100% Indian (i.e., 0% minorities aside from us, but don’t let that mislead you, a significant percentage were tourists too, but from various places in India), and littered with trash in one section to the north (imagine a dump on the beach with stray dogs and cows roaming about it, crows flying overhead). Shut down bars and shelters lined the beaches. They are open to tourists and others in the peak season (around October to February, I think).
After roaming about Calangute, soaking in that rich and intense experience, we were ready for dinner. We headed north on our motor bike and found a bunch of discos (like a night club in the U.S.), filled with Indian males (apparently, Calangute is a party town virtually solely for Indian males at this time of year). Peggy and I really stand out. We’re stared at by dozens of these guys, some of them look like they are possibly lurking. It’s quite nerve-racking, but we venture around anyway. Backwards, we get desert first at Cocoberry (an Indian version of Pinkberry). Our original tastes like Pinkberry’s, but we top it with these exotic (to us) fruits: muskmelon and chikoo. Muskmelon tastes similar to cantaloupe with a pear-like texture. Chikoo tastes somewhat like pear but with this unique caramel and nutty taste and creaminess. Both fruits were pleasant.
Across the street we found Kishor Tandoori, a simple and bare bones restaurant serving locals for years. We ordered Goan style prawn xacuti (a dish that has a grainy texture from shredded coconuts), and garlic naan (unleavened, unlike the naan we get back in the states). The prawns are disappointingly small, but everything else was fantastic. From this point forth, I’m confident that the next seven weeks will be perhaps my greatest food tour ever.
Kishor Tandoori served some breads I never heard of before: kulcha, paratha, and papad. I note this so I can Wikipedia them later when I’m connected to the internet.
Afterwards, Peggy and I are exhausted, so we rest.
Saturday June 11th ~ We went to Aguada Fort and Lighthouse, Aguada Jail, and Old Goa, by moped.
In the morning, the energy went out in the hotel. This happens regularly during monsoon season actually, but only for a few minutes usually. Peggy thought it might be their way of saving money on electricity (i.e., faking a power outage), a curious theory of a dispositional cynic, but I suspect it’s the storm.
On our way out we play a little with the hotel employee’s dog, E.T. He is a sweet medium-sized mutt.
Goa, is filled with medium-sized mutts. They range widely in color, but not so much in size. After years and years of interbreeding, I cannot distinguish the breeds in any of these dogs. I heard that sometimes the dogs will chase people. Not sure for what motive, but this happened to Peggy and me while we were about to cross the bridge over Mandavi River, south of Calangute, on our way from Aguada Fort to Old Goa. We’d have been way more scared if we were on foot. We zoomed away on our trusty motor bike.
Aguada Fort, built in 1612 by the Portuguese colonists who ruled Goa from the 16th century until the 1961 century when Goa became independent, is a site to see. Its stately red brick walls are imposing and its deep and wide mote inspired my imagination of the place when it was alive with people and new.
The grassy knoll that the fort sits on was lush and so green that I actually thought my vision might be screwy. The pictures don’t do it justice. It was almost surreal.
After the fort, we went on our way to Old Goa.
Before crossing Mandavi River (and being chased by stray dogs), we grabbed lunch in a little town near and southeast of Candolim, a pleasant town with beautiful beaches south of Calangute. The restaurant, Tamarind, served Goan and Chinese food. The latter is commonly served at Goan restaurants, surprisingly, but we haven’t seen a single Chinese tourist, perhaps because of the time of the year. I wonder if it’s like real Chinese food or if it’s Goan-style, we’re yet to try it. At Tamarind, I tried my first plain lassi (Indian drink made with liquid squeezed out of milk curds – delicious and soothes the fiery heat of the two dishes we ate: Prawn Recheado and Chicken Cafreal, in ascending order of heat). The prawns in the recheado were medium-sized, succulent – what a delicious treat. We gobbled that down with garlic naan (again, unleavened), and Goan bread (just like dinner rolls from your local NYC deli). Next was the Chicken Cafreal, which we couldn’t finish because of the immense heat. Don’t let that mislead you – if not for the heat, we would quickly have cleaned out that bowl too because the flavors were fantastic, a mix of spices including something clove-like or cinnamon-like (I couldn’t put my finger on it), made this dish unique and memorable.
Old Goa is an official heritage site recognized by UNESCO. We visited the Church of St. Francis Assisi and its archeological museum first, then Basilica of Bom Jesus and its art museum next. Outside the latter, we found a kitten desperate for help, she was thin and weak. We went to buy her a chicken sandwich, but she was gone when we returned, hopefully she was taken into the care of some loving mother figure.
On our return to Calangute, we stopped by Panaji, the capital of Goa, west of Old Goa, on the same side of the river. We grabbed some food at a “pure veg” (the Goan, or perhaps Indian, equivalent of “vegetarian”) restaurant - a delicious dosa filled with potatoes and an indiscriminate mixture of spices like in all Indian food I’ve had) and breaded and fried peppers that burned like fire through our bodies.
We got back, tired, still jetlagged, and napped. Then we woke up, grabbed some Kingfisher (Indian beer) and wine and had a relaxing night in.
LOVE IT! hiro, you're such a great storyteller. wish i was there. be careful with the firebutt. tell peggy, i said, 'what up, betch?!'
ReplyDeleteAwesome!! Glad you two are keeping a blog and that you've enjoyed your first few days there. Keep it up!
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