Goa was the final destination, and after a random flip through of the Lonely Planet guidebook, it was settled we all would meet in Petnam. Goa is absolutely gorgeous and feels as if it belongs in South America, not India. The beaches were pristine, clean and beautiful, the cocohut culture was completely sossegado (laidback) and full of an eclectic mix of inhabitants- many of whom are old ‘hippies’ who came to Goa in the 60’s and have yet to leave. We stayed in a hut on the Palolem beach, getting the best of both worlds with a quiet beach a ten minutes walk away and the more ‘happening’ beach right outside of our door. The food and drinks were fantastic and much of out time was spent relaxing on the beach, reading, and of course, eating. I don’t think that seven days has every gone by so quickly.
We decided to rent scooters for a day to explore a bit. These men disregarded the fact that none of us had previously ridden a motorbike, and after many mishaps, including a run over dog, a seriously wounded tree and a knicked leg, they still let us leave the hostel premise (I STILL am trying to figure out what was going on in these men’s heads). The first task was driving on the international Indian highway to fill the gas tanks, let me tell you, the Indian highway is NOTHING like that in the states. The only traffic rule is go. Fast. And only worry about yourself and cows. By the time we got to the hidden beaches, we were champs at bike riding, and it felt glorious to be in the open air and not cooped up in a bus.
The beaches we found were one of a kind. There was no life whatsoever at these places, other than the four of us. No shops, no chairs, no signs of life and it was splendid!
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