Our train to Goa from Mumbia is eraly in the morning, so we're up with the birds (and rats, stray dogs, degenerates, cats, cows etc) and off the the station. Strangely, the train station in Mumbai is one of the nicest buildings that it has to offer, and looks even more beautiful first thing, when the sky is a deep blue colour and the moon is still out. Our walk to the station isn't quite to nice though; after practically having to sprint to escape a rabid dog baring its rotten wee teeth at us, we are faced with literally hundreds of people sleeping on street corners, benches, shop doorways, kerbs; pretty much anywhere they can find.
Inside the station is even stranger, and there is a real mix of people around; commuters, market traders, schoolkids, a white lady being violently sick in to a bin, and even a disproportionate number of amputees (if you'll excuse the expression), who can only use there arms to drag themselves across the grimy floor. Needless to say, we are glad to be escaping Mumbai.
We find our seats (which resemble a couple of slabs of concrete inside a prison cell) and set off of the epic 14 hour journey to Panaji. The outskirts of Mumbai are absolutely fascinating, and despite being knackered, I can't take my eyes off the scenery; there are makeshift tarpaulin houses, shanty towns, slums, corrugated iron lean-to's (which house massive families!), people sleeping on the train tracks and platforms. As we get further away from the city, the scenery becomes a lot greener, and we see lots of lush forests, rivers, mountains, and paddy fields. Much easier on the eye!
We finally arrive in Goa, and decide to spend a couple of nights in Panaji, which is little town just inland from the beaches and the coast, set on a large river. It's scenic enough (anything is an improvement on Mumbai) and has a fairly relaxed vibe with lots of European influence, which can only mean one thing. Time to get the drinks in. After the stress of Mumbai, lord knows we need it!
Along with shopping and sleeping, sampling the local alcohol is our main activity in Panaji. We (typically for me and Lisa) even befriend the local off-license owner (Maroj/Masood/Joshi...I forget his name) and are invited to be his guests for a few fenis, which is the local cashew fruit liquor. We throw caution to the wind and accept, and a good few drinks later I find myself driving around Panaji on a scooter, with Maroj/Masood/Joshi clinging on behind me, barking directions in my ear. Perhaps not the best idea I've ever had. But hey - this is India. Logic and reason is officially redundant here.
The morning after our feni-fest (this sounds a lot dirtier than it was...) we are awoken ridiculously early by Maroj/Masood/Joshi banging on our door. We've been summoned for a brisk walk on the beach. Theoretically this is a lovely idea; to watch the sunrise, paddle, and wander dreamily along the sand. Realistically, this is never going to be the case. I am tired, crabbit, and look like a burst couch. But nonetheless we manage, and it's a blissful walk. The morning sun melts away my huff, and we enjoy our stroll. The water is cool , the breeze soft and the beach quiet apart from a few joggers (overkeen if you ask me) and men casting out fishing nets from the shore.
Despite being fairly relaxed, Panaji is essentially a town so we decide it's time to go to the beach. For a few days at least, I want to lie on the sand, read, swim and attempt to get a tan, and not have to think about one single thing.
Next stop, Anjuna!
Along with shopping and sleeping, sampling the local alcohol is our main activity in Panaji. We (typically for me and Lisa) even befriend the local off-license owner (Maroj/Masood/Joshi...I forget his name) and are invited to be his guests for a few fenis, which is the local cashew fruit liquor. We throw caution to the wind and accept, and a good few drinks later I find myself driving around Panaji on a scooter, with Maroj/Masood/Joshi clinging on behind me, barking directions in my ear. Perhaps not the best idea I've ever had. But hey - this is India. Logic and reason is officially redundant here.
The morning after our feni-fest (this sounds a lot dirtier than it was...) we are awoken ridiculously early by Maroj/Masood/Joshi banging on our door. We've been summoned for a brisk walk on the beach. Theoretically this is a lovely idea; to watch the sunrise, paddle, and wander dreamily along the sand. Realistically, this is never going to be the case. I am tired, crabbit, and look like a burst couch. But nonetheless we manage, and it's a blissful walk. The morning sun melts away my huff, and we enjoy our stroll. The water is cool , the breeze soft and the beach quiet apart from a few joggers (overkeen if you ask me) and men casting out fishing nets from the shore.
Despite being fairly relaxed, Panaji is essentially a town so we decide it's time to go to the beach. For a few days at least, I want to lie on the sand, read, swim and attempt to get a tan, and not have to think about one single thing.
Next stop, Anjuna!
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