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ShareThis year I went to a place that probably has the greatest global reach in terms of leisure; one that every fourth person on this planet has been to. But thougha first-timer there, Goa was what I thought it would be and then some -- I have to say there's something about the red mud, hippie haven that you won't find in a travel book.
For every one of them might tell you what to do there and where to go, but really, if you do nothing but stand and observe, or chill out susegaad style, the Goan way of life will reach out to really touch yours. To a food-lover like me, Goa conjured up visions of a fish balchao, a sharp, tangy ambotik, sol kadhi and bebinca. I found it was all that and much more!
The resort ferried my parents, sister and me by car to what would be our weeklong abode and that step, I think, is when you leave your city-goer's baggage behind. The palm groves, the tiny villages fringing the coast and large ship builders' yards by the waterfront are a charming change alright!
We stayed at a lovely resort that had all the luxe trappings that such a place normally has but with all the elements of a farmer's market thrown in too. For us it was time for full-on entertainment! Other than meal times, it was at the spa or gym and during mid-morning rowdy games of volleyball by the pool (that we stayed away from), that we met the denizens of the place. And they were a loud and fun-to-watch bunch.
Come dinner hour and we were entertained by the family across us with their large brood of kids who engaged in fist fights, crying, complaining and finally making up and running circles around other diners -- all during the dinner hour; we didn't miss the saas-bahu sagas here.
And hardly did we get through the amuse-bouche, than a Mr Know-it-All would launch a tirade on how the service wasn't up to half the world and the lavishness it conferred on him. I was also amused to watch the younger crowd and let me make one thing clear about them: they can certainly take care of themselves. We'd find them in the elevator, trying to crawl into the casino and then finally, like homing pigeons make their way into the dining areas. I did little else but watch life around me in its diverse forms.
Evenings, we watched the large tourist launches, making their way across an orange-and-purple-hued sky as the strains of Bollywood streaked across the waters.
Quite by chance, we opted in favour of the Mapusa market on a Friday morning, after foregoing a chance to visit a kaju plantation at Ponda, which would have taken away a whole day. This market is also Goa's biggest fresh produce bazaar and it's here that you might find the D'Souzas, Braganzas and the Mirandas haggle ceaselessly over ingredients for their kitchen, Grab a place in the shade and settle down to watch the drama, it's operatic. You have a combination of the solo, potters from Bicholim who beseech you to pick up their large rooster-shaped water jugs and the chorus; women who bring homemade sweets and pickles as well as hot cross buns, arguing over the day's deals.
Our driver Santan told us his marriage was settled through a brief introduction of his mother and a neighbour's niece after the purchase of a dozen mussels there. Made my day! I also loved walking around the old Fontainhas district and imagining life beyond the large verandahs, white washed walls and porticos. And one day, we drove up to the Terekhol Fort and discovered a place that had some delicious Malvani fish items. Worth it!
To round up the holiday, we decided to pick up souvenirs at the only 'hotspot', 18 June Road, and returned with bags of strawberry and blueberry kaju. The world has certainly shrunk, gastronomically at least!
'Tuzo photo kaddunv?" (May I take your picture), a street-side photographer asked and I obliged, knowing by then I had happily also formed one of my own portraits of Goa.
