**This is an interesting one in retrospect. My 2013 trip was amazing basically every day, aside from of course my early bouts with stomach illnesses. But if there was a part that I kind of was annoyed by in the moment, was my time in Goa. I first went to Goa in 2011, we stayed in a lively part of North Goa, in a resort with about a five minute walk to the public beach with shacks selling great, cheap, Goan seafood with waves coming in. It was amazing. I expected the same, but didn't get it - this time us staying at a Mahindra resort with a private beach and one half operating shack. But that said, sometimes times on the beach are great. There's a little nugget in here about recognizing a random smell that came on me when walking to our bungalow - a smell that took me back instantly to Mangalore. There were some great moments even if in the moment, it was all a little bit strange.**
Day 51-55: What Else Would You Do?
So, what did I do in Goa? As little as I probably could do without losing my sanity, which basically means I did what anyone does in Goa. It wasn’t as exciting as last time because back then Goa was new, an incredible change to anything else I’ve seen or experienced in India. Also, last time we were staying in Calangute, a beach in North Goa that is one of the most action packed, where things are open later and there are many more people around you enjoying the experience. In the high season, the crowd could be a nuisance, but when we were dining in the quieter South Goa, it became something I missed. I was upset at first, even, about the lack of people and the lack of shacks lining the beach outside our resort, but when I first felt that calm ocean breeze on my face as I sipped my 50 rupee pint beer and ate our 250 rupee Squid Masala, I kind of forgot about all of that. I was back in Goa doing exactly what I did last time, doing what everyone else does in Goa. What else would I do?
The only downside to our stay was that there was just one shack in the reachable proximity from the resort. There were a couple others, but they had closed for the season. We were staying at a Mahindra resort (an Indian resort company), and their patrons were roughly 95% Indian. This fact is the bane of the shacks near the resort, since, as one shack owner told us, ‘those Indians don’t eat at the shacks. We don’t serve a lot of Veg’ (before anyone claims racism, the shack owner was Indian). The one shack near the hotel was decent, but convenient, so I used it for my daily afternoon “tea” (beer and appetizer), but we ended up going to one of the other more exciting beaches in the nights for dinner. All the beaches we went to were still in South Goa, so they weren’t as full or as colorful as Calangute, but they served their purpose.
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| Out little Mangalore styled bungalow |
Goa during the day is like most Coastal Indian towns, meaning it is way too hot and way too humid to do anything for ten minutes outside without getting incomfortable. The only place on the resort property that was cool was the second floor of the main building (overlooking the long path from the building to the beach, with rows of houses housing the rooms on the way, as well as two pools and a bar), who’s one face was open, and because of its elevated level, provided a nice breeze. My Mom called this place Mangalore (her hometown), as it reminded her of her house, with an elevated open-air area where the cool Mangalore breeze flew in. I soon joined in, as many parts of Goa reminded me of Mangalore. One of the stranger ones was a distinct smell that I used to get when walking back to the room at night outside the town-house. The smell was one I hadn’t smelled in 12 years (the last time I went to Mangalore when my Grandmother’s house was operable. It was the smell of the outdoor bath house (what we all called barn), a strange, burnt, beautiful smell.
The only complaint I have with the shack food is that almost all of the shacks share essentially the same menu, meaning the only differentiable quality is the ability of their cook, something very hard to tell ahead of time. If it was more crowded, we could have known by which was most popular, but at this time of year all the places either had no one or one or two groups, so it was really hard to know where to go. Luckily, not only are the menus largely the same, but so is the quality of the food, so we ended up eating at fine enough places.
The first night, we went to Colva Beach, a beach about 10 km north of Varca Beach (where our resort was). Colva had a row of shacks, all with one or two people. In the end, we went to the one that was closest to the parking lot, because when they’re all basically the same, it is such random factors that makes you choose one over another. There we were met with our first of many questions about what type of seafood to eat (one of the many fishes such as Kingfish, Pomfret, Sea Bass, Shark, Red Snapper, or Prawns, Squid, Mussels, Crab), and in what preparation (butter garlic, rawa fry, masala fry, stuffed). At least half of the permutations and combinations were tried by the time we left Goa. That first night I also enjoyed my first beer, one that was either 1 dollar for a pint or $1.75 for a 675ml. Decisions, decisions.
The next night we decided to try our luck with one of Goa’s more normal restaurants, as we went to the famous, reputable Martin’s Corner, an authentic Goan restaurant near Colva beach. Though it wasn’t sea-side or on the beach, it was close enough for the cool air to rush in. Martin’s Corner is a large open-air restaurant with live music, a more modern setting in an old part of Goa. The food is traditional Goan fare, so we ordered meat dishes, instead of the normal shack food that we were having like an IV morning, noon and night (not a total bad thing). We ordered Goan Sausage (as good as ever), Mutton Xacuti (very good), and Squid Vindaloo (also very good). The music was a little loud, but we expected it given that 80% of the reviews on Tripddvisor mentioned the loud music as the only real negative, but the singer had a decent voice. All in all, our one foray to a real restaurant was pleasantly good, but still not seeing the waves cascade onto the sand in front of you while you eat is a little sad.
The other meals out we ate at the same place, the same shack in a beach about 10 km south of Varca: Cavelossim. We decided to go there originally through some research that showed that there was a line of shacks near the Leela and Holiday Inn Resorts in Cavelossim. Well, we couldn’t go there because to get there we had to walk quite a distance, and it was still hot. Instead, we went to a line of shacks along the beach a bit further up North. It didn’t surround the lap of luxury in the Leela, but it did still share more similarities to what I remember Calangute to be than anything else I had seen in South Goa. There were about five shacks in a row, each with a few patrons, but the first had a lot. It was by far the busiest shack we had seen so far, and, as a sign of how popular it was, there were a lot of Russians.
Sure, it seems a bit racist to say Russians, but to anyone who has spent time in Goa, it makes total sense. Russians are as omnipresent in Goa as sand and cheap alcohol, fleeing cold Russia to beautiful Goa en masse in the winter months. This was the tail end of their winter season, but even then there were as many Russians in the shack as Goans. The restaurant even had a couple of their employees (co-owners, as most of the crowd-facing employees of the shacks are) converse with them in Russian. Some shacks even have Russian menus, and all have Russian signs under English. Goa is a strange, strange place, where Russian is the 2nd Language, and Catholicism is the 1st Religion. You really have to ask yourself, “is this India.” More so when the shacks closing at 12:00 in the offseason is seen as disappointingly early.
There’s really not much more to write about our time in Goa because we didn’t do anything else. We didn’t see any of the already limited sights. The best sight in Goa is the sun descending on the calm water as you walk along the palm-tree lined beach. The other best sight is seeing ‘Rs. 90’ next the line item of ‘Kingfisher 675ml’. There are a lot of churches and even old houses that belonged to ancestors of Goan families, but these things aren’t very close, and cabs in Goa seem to be the only thing more expensive there than it is in the rest of India. No, Goa isn’t about the sites. It isn’t about the churches and the houses. It is about the food, the beach, the alcohol, the late nights under a clear sky.
*****Top 20 Cities Update******
I’ll do a real update in a bit (because I don’t have too much to write about ‘Mumbai, Episode II’), but for now, I have to address how I now feel about ranking Goa #6 on my Top 20 International Cities list. I didn’t really think it could change, but it has. I will say that if I qualify ‘Goa’ to ‘Calangute’ or ‘North Goa’, then the #6 ranking is a little more applicable. I still think Goa makes a ridiculously good first impression. We went at the perfect time (January) and stayed in one of the more exciting, lively areas (Calangute) the first time around. Here, we went in a below average time (April) and stayed in a more picturesque, less crowded time. It allowed us to appreciate the natural beauty of Goa more, but it wasn’t the same experience for me. I do think ranking Goa at #6 was a bit of a high ranking on my part, but at its best, Goa is that good. This time it just wasn’t Goa at its best. Still, it was better than a whole ton of places that get a lot more publicity.
