Friday 19th Feb
The wedding over, we called up the friend we were supposed to stay with the rest of our time in Goa- by a nice coincidence it was her birthday, so we called up first thing in the morning and wished her. She'd already started cooking lunch (!) and was eager to know how soon we'd be getting over to Dona Paula. Got some directions- apparently GMC on NH17 was the closest landmark- and promised to be there earliest. That proved to be easier said than done. Breakfast at the Nanutel was a leisurely affair, thanks to Goan susegaad setting in; and then we needed to pack all our stuff (sand-filled wedding finery is not pleasant to pack!).
Finally at around 12:45 pm we took off towards Panaji while the rest of the family (except my BIL who joined us) headed to Dabolim for their return flights. Back on the road after a two-day rest, my Swift was purring sweetly although lying in a corner of an open-air hotel parking lot had left her a little dusty. I promised her a bath soon and for the moment a couple of squirts of wiper fluid would hve to suffice. We needed the full blast of the AC because Goa is just too oppresively hot. You'd expect it to be milder in February which is technically still winter but no! Traffic was moderately heavy but I was in just too much of a holiday mood to be affected by it. The missus was shocked at how easily I'd move to the slow lane to let others pass- she hasn't seen me do that too often in Mumbai-Pune. It took us an hour or so to cover the 25 odd km to GMC and then the turnoffs through Goa university to reach our destination.
Just before reaching the house, the road takes a sharp dip and when you rise up again you can see the shimmering expanse of ocean glinting in the sunshine. It's a sight guaranteed to raise your spirits and for the next coupe of days every time we crossed that spot, I'd feel uplifted.
And then we saw the house.
Our host is in the automobile dealership business and his garage reflects his loyalties: a black Elantra and white Getz sit side-by-side. He also told us he is starting off with Mercedes Benz pretty soon so am hoping that next time we can ride around in a nice CLK or something!
My baby resting beside our hosts' vehicles.
After a long leiurely homecooked meal of assorted seafood delicacies, the girls caught up on years of gossip while my BIL and I devoured the newspapers and took little siestas. In the evening we got dressed up for our hostess's birthday dinner celebration. Only thing left was to select the venue: my BIL suggested Souza Lobo's at Calangute but was vetoed by our hosts in favour of Zeebop on the Sea, in the South. We drove the Elantra, our host at the wheel and my BIL playing his "tall boy" card to call shotgun (he is six foot four and easily dwarfs my 5'10" frame). So that left me with the ladies in the back seat- but needn't have worried; the Elantra has enough room in back.
We took about 40 minutes to reach Zeebop. This is speciality seafood reataurant on the beach and we gorged on rawa-fried prawns and mussels followed by crab and snapperfish in butter garlic sauce, all sopped up with delicious garlic bread, seemingly home-baked. I washed it down with Smirnoff in honour of the myriad Russians who dotted the place, while the ladies had Breezers and my BIL Kingfisher. It's so nice not having to drive after!
The place closed at eleven and we were the last ones out, which surprised me since I'd assumed Goa was a party-all-night kinda place.
Saturday 20th Feb
We drove around lazily, soaking in some noontime sun and surf at Miramar, an amazing red-sand beach not too far from where our hosts lived.
The route to Miramar was a picturesque scene righ out of somewhere in Europe and I was amazed at how good Goan roads are. Smooth and paved, with excellent signage, they are certainly the best I have seen in India. What delighted me also were the Goans' driving manners- they don't cut you off or honk madly and it's one of the few places in India that I've seen roundabouts work without having to post a cop 24X7!
In the late afternoon we took off to Calangute. The big girls wanted to do some shopping so I excused myself and took my daughter for a long walk down Calangute market to the beachfront.
A church in the twilight at Calangute:
Calangute was (relatively) dirty, noisy and chockfull of pesky salesmen and other tourists, but I was in another world. My little girl's hand was clasped tightly in mine and for about an hour we just walked, saying very little except when she pointed out something she liked, like pink cotton candy on a stick!
I shall never forget that feeling of sheer contentment as we walked hand in hand along the beach and market: another reason why I now love Goa!
We drove back from Calangute to find our host (who'd returned from work) hard at work on the prawns! There was sand “stuck in all the wrong places” as my Mom would say so I excused myself for a quick shower and change of clothes before reassembling on the terrace. That wasn’t such a good idea as it turned out: the mosquitoes were killing us. So we retired indoors to the comfort of air conditioning and big screen TV. Our host had a typically Goan excitability when conversing that was infectious: soon we were all tripping down memory lane and having a lovely time: we came down for the biryani only about 4 in the morning (prawns were long gone by then!) My daughter was tired from all the walking and slept through it all. After "dinner" (more like a very early breakfast actually) I don’t even remember nodding off, but woke up the next day feeling wonderful.
Sunday 21st Feb
Our last day in Goa. We had decided to leave for Pune after breakfast and drive till we felt hungry again. Good strategy. After a good brunch of toast and eggs, it was almost noon when we hit NH17 northwards. The run to Sawantwadi was uneventful and though we missed the right turn towards Amboli, we corrected quickly enough with no time lost.
We’d stopped at Vithal Kamath’s on the onward journey so did the same on the way back- around 2 pm- but realised we weren’t hungry at all. So instead used Mr Kamath’s ultra-clean alfresco loos to clean out our systems and hit the road again.
I knew we needed to turn left well before we neared Belgaum so asked my faithful navigator- the wife- to keep an eye out for signs. Needn’t have worried.
Spring was in the air.
I wished, not for the first time, that I'd carried a better camera.
Just one stop- near Nippani about 15 minutes before hitting NH4 again- at a nice resort we found for a nice chicken Kolhapuri lunch.
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Wish we could have stayed and taken a nap in the hammock.
Some interesting Warli art of display.