Paradise in a nutshell
Arriving to Goa from northern India changed the panorama of our travels completely. Gone was the dry climate, the dust, the crowded streets and the rubbish everywhere. They are replaced by green hills, palm trees, Portuguese style colonial houses and rice fields.
Margao train station felt like emerging from a novel set in the colonial era. Slow paced and busy at a time, with smells of sugar cane juice and coconut candy in the air and palm tree leaves rustling in the gentle marine breeze. Everything seems to be more laid back and more organized, even the auto-rikshas have fixed – even though quite expensive – rates, so that no bargaining is required for moving further.
A tiny tropical paradise, but of course one is by far not alone there. The proportion of foreigners to locals in Goa must be more or less similar to Agra (here Russians are the majority), especially on the coastline – and for the first time in India we saw women in Western style clothing for hot temperatures. Tourism dictates the pace of life and that’s why it is just so easy to be there.
Arriving from Udaipur after two nights on a train and a somehow sorrowful 10-hour transit in Mumbai we didn’t care much about anything but arriving, putting our bags down and jumping into the water. And actually this was more or less the spirit of the five days we spent there: getting up late, having the best breakfasts ever in a Nepali run German Bakery (besides: German Bakery seems to be kind of a success promissing trademark here, as there is at least one in all places we have been to so far in India), enjoying the warm waters of the Arabian Sea, having as much fresh fruit juices as possible on the uncountable beach bars and restaurants – the most expensive among them must have cost about 1,20 Euros – renting a scooter and driving around in the gorgeous tropical landscape and then having candle dinner at one of the tiny bamboo wood tables on the beach, just two meters away from the breaking waves.
One afternoon we rented a scooter to explore some of the hilly inland and the coastline further North of Palolem, the beach we stayed on. Veering away from the touristic centres, we found Cabo de Rama, a remote beach with a spectacular cliff line, mostly frequented by locals.