Skip to main content

The Goa Travelogue : Trip of a Lifetime


Our group of friends shifted hostels in the second year and took rooms close to each other and the friendship grew stronger from there with each passing day. Thus was born x0x-ers (3, 4 – 0 – 1, 3) i.e. rooms 301,303,401 and 403. We spent countless hours planning trips, parties, discovering music and other random shit.

Goa is a destination every college group plans to visit during their college days. This was one trip we just had to make. After hundreds of hours spent on planning the trip, many last minute changes and one person pulling out we finally managed to make the trip with a bunch of our European friends joining us there for what would be the most memorable trip of my life. I as a writer am incapable of putting in words the sheer fun we had on this trip so most of you would not realise how beautiful some of the moments were.

Day 1



I arrived before everyone else travelling from Mumbai. Riding 30 km on a scooter solo from Madgaon to Calungute was a sign of how the days ahead were supposed to be – blissful. After finding a cheap hotel to stay, I left to meet the European friends. It was so good to meet them after many days and hear the stories of their Kerala travel. There was something that happened on the very first day of our trip that made me see a different side of India. A couple of guys actually paid 50 rupees for a picture with bikini clad white women. While they took all this in lighter vein but the sheer attention and the lack of privacy got even me annoyed. There were people all around trying to take pics, talk random shit or just ogle at the girls making the stay uncomfortable.

The first night in Goa was the first time we faced the so called “distance conundrum”. People in Goa measure distance in some paranormal metrics. We had decided to walk to Club Cubana as it was only 5 minutes away. We only realised after it was too late that it was far and impossible to walk to the club and hence decided to visit the clubs in Baga, Tito’s or Mambo’s but ended up drinking on the beach. It was good that we didn’t go to Cubana that day because that is a place to go with everyone and after the tiring day some of our friends had already left.

The x0xers still in train were adamant on visiting Cubana as it was a ladies night that day. By the time they made it to Baga, my day was already over and I was back in our hotel. But I didn’t have the keys so a couple of them came back to give me the keys but instead ended up taking me back to the beach with them. The moment we all united for the first time in Goa is a memory etched in my mind forever. A bunch of crazy guys, a bit tipsy singing a cacophonic tune on the karaoke. The song was bad but the memory unforgettable. That is all I remember from the first day, we returned really late and I remember little of it. It was also the day when Katsaridaphobia struck. A debilitating fear of cockroaches. The most fun girl on exchange reduced to tears at the sight of the petty creature.

Day 2



After claustrophobic Calungute on the first day we moved further north to Arambol the next day. It was a beautiful beach, less crowded, less Indians, lots of foreigners, BIG waves. This day was particularly eventful not because of the beautiful beach but because our beloved Papa lost his Activa keys in the very first dip in the sea. While the afternoon thereafter was ruined for him, we made the most of the beautiful beach drinking chilled beer along with the most awful hukkah ever made. A couple of our friends got inspired by company and tried chocolate pancake here. The waves in Arambol are strong, good for surfing (saw some people enjoying it there) and the beach is clean, good for foreigners. A special mention to our party freak friend RoJa, who travelled a couple of days in train for this one day but didn’t even set foot in water. Instead enjoyed dal roti in the shack.



In the evening we decided to go to Curlies, a place I had thoroughly enjoyed on my last trip to Goa but this time it was something completely different. All boys had to pay an entry fee of rupees 500 which included absolutely nothing and the drinks sold inside were astronomically priced. The entry fee for boys suddenly turned to entry fee for Indian boys. It was astonishing to see a repeat of “Dogs and Indians not allowed” sort of restrictions in Independent India. While some of us didn’t want to pay money for nothing so we decided to listen to music from the beach, eat something and drink a few beers. However, in some time things turned to worse, the entry fees increased to 1000, you couldn’t even be on the beach and more than anything it felt a bit humiliating. This is when one of us lost his cool shouted at security and that was the end of Curlies for us. We however had great fun getting drunk with our set of party-freak friends back in the shack at Baga followed by the late night omelette.

The scenes at Curlies however were pure psychedelic. Lots of people swinging uncontrollably to the music. The crowd and atmosphere there was freaking crazy, very few people in their senses. The firang friends enjoyed it a lot, one person in particular who stayed till 6 am. I heard a lot happened there which everyone was giggling about but nothing said loud in the open. It was also very nice of them to try plenty of times to get one of us enter the party. This was one of many instances that we realised how genuinely nice and friendly these guys are, and we met just two months ago!!! I also vividly remember then having a candid chat with the Katsaridaphobic girl. She is someone who always has a smile on her face and makes everyone around her smile as well. I fondly call her the most fun girl on exchange. However, that day I realised it has not been very easy for her in India all the time. She has had some very difficult times but doesn’t let all that affect her at all.

Day 3




The next day was the much hyped day of Club Cubana. We had already visited the place on our way to Arambol to ensure no goof-ups this time. In the afternoon we decided to do some water sports on Calungute beach. We did only the deep sea diving which wasn’t really deep sea for most of us. For someone like me who doesn’t know swimming if I can’t feel ground under my feet it’s all the same. A wasteful event but an item off the checklist. No water sports in Goa again for me.  Here 4 of our other firang friends also joined us and we had all 18 of us at one place now. It became almost impossible to do anything collectively with such a big and diverse group. We finally decided to move to Morjim after Calungute but it was already 4 by then and I didn’t want to waste more time in figuring out the logistics. So Baniya and I headed straight to Morjim with 1.5 Spanish and 0.5 French girls.


 Morjim was surreal. A very beautiful beach, quiet, secluded with not so strong waves. One of the best beach in Goa for me and definitely the best I visited in North Goa. There weren’t too many people on the beach so there was little disturbance. It was a perfect way to relax after the cumbersome morning and just a couple of beers in this background was enough to get us tipsy. We left Morim after a small meal at the shack there. It is hard to forget the cute little Russian children we saw on the beach and the Swedish women who visited Goa every year but that’s all she knows about India. It is also amusing to see foreigner’s interest in cows. A cow on the beach was the centre of attraction at Morjim. On our way back we stopped at Cubana again to ensure everything was smooth there.

The entry into Club Cubana was just like everything else on the trip- very interesting and complicated. What pissed everyone off was that the security couldn’t believe a bunch of young Indians could be friends with so many foreigners. They went to the extent of asking for proofs of friendship. I am still looking for a perfect test of friendship but the photos of our Jaisalmer trip on their phone and recital of tough Hindi names was enough for them. The club was good from inside but maybe I had too high expectations from it so it was short of something great for me. The place was buzzing with people. Four bars, two dancefloors and a swimming pool. The place definitely had many memorable moments.



My favourite was when our Thulla took help from a French/African girl to strike a conversation with a Russian. Obviously nobody could understand anything but full marks for the effort. The gallery on the first floor of the disc was my favourite area and my favourite drink was something Thulla only made me try. He went to the Russian bar tender and said “surprise me”. She gave him gin with tonic. So my favourite drink for the night was gin tonic with 3 slices of lemon. A few people (read exclusively for girls) also got their face painted which to be honest didn’t looked pretty and I remember telling this to one French girl (Chinki). Everyone was having fun in their own unique way so it is difficult to know all the stories from the day but I distinctly remember the incroyable (incredible) story told by one of the French guys (Mastram). On a trip to Mozambique once with his father, everyone in the tribe wanted to marry their daughter to this white young man. His father told them he was already married to protect him but then his father got drunk and revealed that he was not married. The young boy got chased to a home and was shown into a room with a naked women lying on the bed. He ran as fast as he could and was protected by a village elder. My scariest moment in life is nowhere close to this.

I made friends with the DJ there- DJ DryTeeth. And we danced to his music till 4:30 a.m. after which Burnu and I went to have what would be my favourite cheese omelette of the trip at 5:00 a.m. at Baga. Later I heard that a few people tried staying up to see the sunrise on the beach but everyone left one by one and no one was there till the sunrise. I had no such fetishes.

Day 4

The next day was a day of departures with Baniya leaving early in the morning followed by 4 firangs and finally Uncle in the evening. The first two were going back to Delhi while our Uncle Dude (Chacha Chaila) was his aberrant self, taking a bus to Bangalore. A couple of other firangs also decided to shift base further north in Arambol. So now there were six of us, four Indian guys, a Spanish and a French girl. We had 4 rooms with us in our hotel but with so many people leaving we had kept only 2 rooms and were to check out of other 2 rooms. But this hotel had a very interesting check out time of 9:00 am. A task almost impossible to achieve in Goa, especially after the hangover of unlimited drinks at Cubana. Some of them checked out as late as 11:30 a.m. A long discussion with the hotel owner followed as he wanted us to pay the full days rent for those two rooms as well. This was one of the many instances of the apoplectic local Goan behaviour we witnessed on the trip.

After lunch on the beach and bidding goodbye to everyone we left for Sinquerim stopping at the Sinq club in between trying to figure out our plans for the night. It has the Taj Hotel on one end and the water is relatively clean. There is also a fort there which offers a great view of the sea. Our Thulla being true to his name decided to skip the waters and slept on the beach there. Papa and I spent a long time there trying to learn floating with our eyes looking at the sky. I took some engineering brain of Burnu to teach us but we somehow finally got it.

We heard another incredible story here, this time from the Spanish girl. We all know she can be lazy but this was laziness of another level. While relaxing on the floating mat she fell asleep and ended up in the middle of the sea. She later had to swim 30 minutes to get back to land. It was so tiring that she was saved only because she could wait in between on the mat. We also met our biggest pervert on this beach. A guy offering water sports on the beach had a stare so disgusting it would put Prem Chopra to shame. A slight setback met us in the parking outside. Papa had another instance with his Activa, somebody hit his Activa in the parking and the front grill got damaged.

We still had no plans for the night and since many people had told us about the party scene in Vagator, we headed 30 km to Vagator. We were welcomed on Vagator by a cultural program called Leher,  but there were no signs of any party whatsoever on that beach. We asked the guys up in Arambol if there was something happening there but we couldn’t get a reply so we decided to leave Vagator. (To great disappointment of Burnu, who was thoroughly enjoying the cultural show) We came back to Baga to have some good food at Brittos. The sea food platter is really good for sea food lover but it was a bad day for Papa so he also gave it a try to finally realise he is not a sea food person. He stole my fries but the fried chicken speciality I ordered was really good, a must try. The desserts were pretty awesome too. My favourite was mango mousse followed by blueberry, also a must try.

Since nobody wanted to go to the club we decided to drink on the shacks. We went shack hopping on Baga beach from there on. One had music too loud so we moved to another one playing drinking card games which got us really drunk after few hours. The Goan weather also took an unexpected turn and it started to rain. We had ordered some feni (the worst drink I have tasted ever) and burnu mixed some beer in it too but we finished even that off. I stole a beer mug from there as they won’t give me a disposable glass. Papa got drunk and fell asleep there. The Spanish girl tried everything but throwing water at him, it didn’t work. Even my favourite slap trick didn’t work. When the rain stopped we headed to the road on our way back.

Here started the craziest and the most favourite part of the trip for me. While waiting for the others out on the road I heard some nice music from Club Mambo and started swinging to it a fair distance away from it. I suggested this to the Spanish girl that we shall dance to this nice music. Being her crazy self (when drunk), we moved right to the entrance of the club and started dancing. We asked the security for entry but they would still charge us the hefty entry fees so we decided to enjoy the music from the outside. It is impossible to explain the scenes and the craziness of the entire event. A slight drizzle from the sky and 6 people dancing like crazy outside a night club which has only a few people left inside. All the people on the street and inside the club wondered what was wrong with us but we were too drunk to realise that. After the music stopped we realised this is a very long way to reach the parking so we went back to the beach to go to the parking. It is hard to forget that walk on the perfectly silent beach at 4 am which was otherwise so crowded. By the time we left the world cup match had already started. One of the most craziest moments of my life.

Day 5


Having faced the backlash of not following the checkout time the previous day I made sure everyone was up by 8 the next morning and ready to leave by 9. Everyone was sleep deprived so some wanted to sleep on the beach but finally we decided to head straight to Palolem in South Goa, 80 km from our hotel. The journey didn’t start well as just after 5 minutes of leaving the hostel, we had our first fall. The rain last night had made the roads slippery and Burnu’s Activa slipped and down went the Indo-Spanish duo. So we returned back for some clean-up. It was great to see the girl’s spirit who was still ready to ride along with Burnu but obviously he was too scared to let her fall again. Then we headed for the repair job on Papa’s Activa. We spent a good time looking for the garage and then finally for the repair. We had to stop again because we had decided to move together but we lost one of the Activa (Papa again). Then we stopped for some brunch to finally embark on the 80 km journey to Palolem. The drcision was to stop in Madgaon and Canacona in between to take breaks, only to realise Canacona was 1 km away from Palolem. The journey was a really long one with a stoppage for rain and a break for resting on the footpath. It was one of those journeys that I will not forget for a long time. The last leg was so serene and beautiful.

Palolem is a quiet place with lots of foreign tourists. The water is clean and the beach is beautiful. We rented a hotel and ate some very good food at the adjoining Spicy Bella restaurant. We headed to the beach straight after that to have one of the most memorable experience on the trip. These guys sure know how to have fun. We were lifting each other on our shoulders and throwing them back in the sea when we saw the Spanish girl standing on the shoulders of the tall African/West Indian/French girl and then jumping back into the sea. Soon we could see a number of people on the beach looking at our group trying to do this trick. We also had water fights and other stuff to make it the best day in the sea for me and some others. All of us slept after the shower as we were so tired. We tried to look for a party that evening only to realize that the Leopard valley party is on Friday and Headphone party on Saturday and we arrived on Sunday. So we bought some beers to drink on the beach but there was rain waiting for us. Uncharacteristic for this time of the year in Goa but we had heavy rains that night. Stuck at a wrong place we were thinking of a way out when we saw the girls running in the rain towards Spice Bella. This was probably the longest I have waited for my food at a restaurant. After over an hour of waiting we had dinner and went back to our hotel to drink awfully warm beers. After which everyone slept like a baby. We had decided to move to Panaji for our final day after sending off the African girl as she was leaving a day earlier than us.

Day 6

Before sending her off and leaving for Panjim we decided to trust TripAdvisor and eat our breakfast at Little World for some delicious pancakes which we had never tried before. Certainly a must visit place in Palolem. We wished goodbye to the African girl and went to the beach to enjoy the serenity of the place. I remember having a great conversation with the Spanish girl sitting on a rock overlooking the sea about travel and life. It is fascinating to talk to people who can understand the world beyond money. A trivial moment etched in memory for a long time.

The plan was to visit Agonda before leaving for Panjim but it seemed very similar to Palolem. There were some great reviews that we had heard about Cabo de Rama and it was 13 km from Agonda, on our way to Panjim. So we skipped Agonda and headed towards Cabo de Rama. Everyone was glad to have come to this heavenly place in Goa. The road to the beach wasn’t easy and we also went wrong and reached Cabo de Rama fort instead but what we witnessed finally was eternal bliss. A handful of people on the beach and a stunning view of the sea. This is where I saw the best sunset of my life. There was just one shop there and we ordered omelette and tea. The food was normal but the view was exceptional, absolutely postcard like and it was hard to leave that place. Everything was still for some time and everyone quiet. Like most plans, the plan to leave the tricky road in daylight failed.
We left late for Panjim having overspent the time watching the sunset and reached really late and starving. After a brief search for a hotel, we settled in the first one we checked. It was close to the casinos because that’s why we were in Panjim. But at the last moment we started having doubts as the cost was 1500 but by a vote of 3-2 we entered the Casino, Burnu being the decider. The first thing on our minds was definitely food and that is where we rushed straight to. We had to make the most of the 1500 paid to the casino so everybody had their plates full. Everyone was particularly happy seeing the Spanish girl hog on the food there, giving tough competition to our fiercest eater. There was a moment in between when Burnu for the first time in his life found something worth giving up his food- a dance by some troop on “Birthday Bash”.

We entrusted all our coupons with the lady luck and she played unbelievably winning 8 out of first 8 attempts (Papa did one of those). We lost the last two but everyone got their 800 rupees back. Papa then went on a killing spree winning 8-10 on the trot. So everyone had a great night finally paying only 100-500 rupees for the food but I had to pay 1000 rupees for my food. The Spanish girl took two free coupons for girls at 2:00 and 4:00 am to win 500 from those. A happy end for her indeed. We then went out to sit on the bridge where a guy came to sell tea from nowhere. You can get chai anywhere and at any time in India. We went to sleep at around 5 am on our last night in Goa.

Day 7 and 8

We left nice and early for the Madgaon station after breakfast where I forgot the place I had parked my Activa (I accept I am geographically challenged). We stopped in between for some juice and the Spanish girl tried some ice cream for the love of almonds. We reached the wrong side of the station and hence wasted a good amount of time figuring out the way to return our Activas. Dealing with local Goans isn’t easy and we couldn’t have left without a final altercation. In the most stupidest of remarks the guy wanted Papa to go back to Baga to change the new front panel as it was “fake” and get the original broken one. The funniest thing however was that it was broken from the time we received it but we wasted time and money getting it repaired.

Anyhow finally we got on the train in time with moments to spare. The return journey was mellowed because the most exciting girl on the trip had fallen sick (for the love of almonds). She was weak and slept for most of the 48 hours without eating much at all. But there was a moment in between when we were playing card games and she beat Papa and said “Sorry Papa” with almost child-like innocence, all of us instantly broke into laughter. On this journey we also borrowed a laptop to watch movie “Baby”. We tried borrowing Bluetooth speakers but weren’t able to connect them. English subtitles were also downloaded to help the Spanish girl but those were the worst subtitles ever for a movie.  

Before we could realise, the journey was over. A tight hug and that was it, in an auto back to hostel. The end of good times, a million memories, an epic trip, awesome people, serenity, craziness, stupidity and a thousand other emotions rushing in all at once to create a cocktail of feelings. An emotion impossible to describe but easy to feel over and over again. It beautifully sums up what this trip meant to each of us. I am sure in the moments before I die when my life flashes before my eyes this is what I will cherish, this time and these people.


We don’t meet people by accident, they are meant to cross our path for a reason.”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

He who knows how to be Poor knows Everything

In today's materialistic world, being poor is the worst thing that can happen to you. Being educated, being moralistic and being principled amount to almost nothing if you are poor. There are no opportunities to come out of that quagmire. Someone who has been through this and has somehow overcome the mountain of difficulties, would possess incredible amounts of determination, will and belief in his ability. Such talent is rare but often results in producing the greats. Being poor teaches you time management, how to make the most of your time to survive. It teaches you adaptability, how to adjust to the extremes of living conditions. It pushes you to extend your boundries and grow farther. It makes you emotionally and mentally strong. Someone who has been facing defeat after defeat but still gets up everytime to face adds so many facets to his personality. You learn only from your mistakes. If you have never faced defeat, it would be hard to survive. To relate to my own l...

Belief in Virtue is more important than Virtue itself

Just pause for a second from your daily life. The life that you are so desperately trying to organise, to make worthy, to make grand. The future plans that you are putting together, the aspiration and the fantasies; put them aside and think about this- "We spend a lot of time trying to organize the world, we build clocks and calendars and we try to predict the weather but what part of our life is truly under our control. What if we choose to exist purely in our reality of our own making, does that render us insane. If that does, isn't that better than a life of despair?" Rationality and irrationality is purely subjective. Also what's better is only a matter of how deeply you apply your thoughts to it. If being happy and content is all that you want in life, then isn't living an insane life in a world of your own, the perfect thing for you. The problem with us is that we don't know what we actually want, and when we do, we hate to accept them and instead...

The God Delusion

People all over the world create delusions around themselves, a persistent false belief held in the face of strong contradictory evidences. In India alone we have 33 crore Gods to choose from, for the 100 crore population; a sort of personalised delusion for everyone. In addition to that there are crores of God men. The social structure is so formed that it makes us oblivious to the delusion. We continously doubt our own abilities, and associate results to the blessings of some higher beings. The degraded self-esteem is what pushes you deeper into the delusion. To quote Douglas Adams - "Isn't it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?" The belief that the world was created by some God and that everything in this world is His creation is fundamentally flawed. If he created everything than who created Him. Putting the creation of everything under the ambit of one entity was to simplify the exp...