By Ausmita
I am not an
adventurous person but from time to time I like to challenge myself, step
outside my comfort zone and do something I have never done before. Like take a
solo trip to a place I have never been to before. All through my adult life, I have often
consciously avoided going to Goa for vacations simply because I thought it to
be a tourist infested, over-exposed destination. Whenever my friends planned
that Goa trip, I would step in and manoeuvre it elsewhere. At other times, fate
intervened and spared me the ennui of visiting tried-and-tested-Goa. The only
thing that could tempt me to visit Goa was perhaps the opportunity to travel by
the famous Konkan Railway, touted to be one of the most scenic train routes in
India and an engineering marvel in itself.
Hence,
earlier this month with my regular travel partner travelling for work and me with
some spare time on my hands, I decided to travel to Goa solo and find out for
myself, what the whole brouhaha was all about.
I booked
the travel and the stay. Read up on what to see in Goa, where to eat and made a
mental map of all that I wanted to fit into my four days in Goa. But as the
trip drew closer, I started having serious misgivings about this whole solo
travel thingy. I was really skeptical if I would be able to enjoy on my own on
a solo trip to Goa. I mean, having lunch or going on a drive on your own once
in a while is always a welcome relief but imagine doing that for four days at a
stretch! But I had made the bookings and told friends and family and it was too
late to back out now. So begrudgingly, off I went to Goa not really expecting
to have much fun.
Day 1: Two’s
company, one is glum
For the
first two days I had booked myself in a backpacker’s hostel in Calangute, North
Goa just because I hoped to run into other solo travellers and team with them
and go around. The hostel was tucked into a rundown neighbourhood off Calangute
Beach with very very basic rooms and amenities. I took that as a sign to spend
more time outside the room. I decided to walk to
Calangute Beach. The sun was about to set and although I had been warned about
Calangute, nothing could prepare me for the enormous sea of human population
that hit me on Calangute Beach. It was like all my worst nightmares about Goa
had come true. Add to that pesky shack owners, tattoo artists, water sports
people and shady masseurs who seem very interested in knowing who I was
travelling with. At first I was amused by their persistent questions but soon I
got irritated and decided to walk to the neighboring Baga where the crowd is
supposed to be slightly better.
Thankfully
at Baga, no one bothered me with pesky questions. I happily lounged in one of
the many beach shacks, soaking in the music and neon lights all around and sipping
away to glory. But it started to get boring soon. I was trying hard to pretend
that I was enjoying in my own happy little oasis but the peals of laughter and
chatter emanating from the groups around made me miss my friends and my regular
travel partner. It was still early evening but after a while, I decided to call
it a day and head back to the hostel glumly.
On entering
the room, I realized that two new girls had arrived after I left for the beach
and had occupied the upper bunks in my room. They were cousins, part of a huge
joint family living in Delhi, on their first trip to the sunshine state as
well. Seemed like they had teamed up with another boarder at the hostel, a
software engineer from Hyderabad travelling solo and they were all heading out
for the evening. One of the girls asked me if I would like to join them and I
jumped up and said yes. I was elated at the prospect of being able to spend the
evening with some fellow travellers than stay in the drab hostel room and sulk. That night I had a nice time chatting and dancing with my new found friends.
Day 2:
Comfort in Numbers
That
evening we headed to a popular shack. The place was hosting a trance party
and was packed with revellers eating, drinking, smoking and dancing the night
away. Looking around I realized that there was not an inch of Goa here or in most
of what I had seen in the past two days. Goa had left a long time ago and had
instead been replaced by noisy tourists looking to get high and shack owners
from the Northern part of India or Russia serving pizza, chicken fried rice and
blasphemous Goan food along with imported spirits. My friends seemed to have a
good time but I was getting restless. Surely, there is more to Goa than smoking
up, drinking and endless partying.
Day 3:
Unsure but Solo
Next day, I
decided that it was time to bid goodbye to my new friends and head out on my
own to find some real Goa even though it meant risking being alone and
miserable.
I left the
hostel, took a bus to Panjim and checked into a home stay in Fontainhas, an old
Latin quarter in the city. Painted in bright yellow and overlooking the white
St. Sebastian Chapel with a small hill in the backdrop, the homestay with
oyster shell windows was being run by a Goanese mother - son duo. I felt right
at home. After some good rest and a quick chat with the lady of the house, I
set out to see Fort Reis Magos in Verem, across the Mandovi.
Originally
a bastion of the Adil Shahi dynasty and later of the Portuguese, it had fallen
into disuse and disrepair before being restored a few years ago. It is now open
to public both as a historical and cultural centre. I was especially interested
when I heard that some of Mario Miranda’s work (famous for his caricatures on
everyday life and the mural in Café Mondegar, Mumbai ) is displayed in Reis
Magos. Even though it was almost late afternoon and the fort closes around
sunset, I decided to give it a shot. From Panjim Jetty I boarded one of those
enormous blue ferries along with the horde of office goers, their bikes, cars et
all returning home after work. The setting sun had turned the waters of the
Mandovi to gold but all around us the floating casinos of Goa were still looked
lethargic. On the other side, I boarded a crowded mini bus to take me to Verem
Market and from there I followed the road along the river. It was getting dark
all around and I realized that I had probably missed the chance to see Mario
Miranda’s illustrations. Nevertheless, it was good to see a non-touristy side
of Goa and travel like a local. I spent some time along the river, watched the
lights in the casinos come alive as a river cruise boat decked up with fairy
lights sailed past blasting some popular Goan songs. On the way back, I stopped
over at Ritz Classic, a popular sea food restaurant in Panjim and feasted on
some delicious Goan prawn curry and rice. Since Christmas was around the
corner, street corners and churchyards had come alive with lights, fireworks,
dance performances by local kids and pop up bands playing Christmas carols on
saxophone and violin. The cheer in the air was contagious.
Day 4: Solo
and loving it!
The next
day, after spending sometime exploring the winding streets, colourful houses
and art shops selling porcelain figurines and hand painted tiles in Fontainhas,
I set out for Chandor a sleepy village in the heart of Goa known for the
opulent houses of Goa’s former landowners.
An hour and
a half, a bike taxi and two bus rides later I arrived in Chandor. Since I was
the only touristy looking person in the whole bus (courtesy the straw hat and
the big camera bag), as soon as I asked for the ticket to Chandor, the
conductor had looked at me and exclaimed, “Bada ghar dekhne ja rahi ho? Braganca
House near the Church?” Before dropping me off at Chandor, he pointed to a longish
two storey house across the road surrounded by an overgrown garden. The four
hundred year old house with two wings housing two offshoots of the same family:
the Menezes-Braganza and the Menezes Pereira is a museum in itself. Words will
not do justice to its grandeur; hence I will cover it separately in a photo
blog.
The
Fernandes House looked more time worn than the Braganca house. All the windows
on the lower floor were closed. I was about to turn around after several bells
and knocks on the door went unanswered, when suddenly a man popped his head out
of one of the upper floor windows and asked me to wait. He was the matriarch
Mrs. Sara Fernandes’ son. The Fernandes house is almost 500 years old and
although crumbling had very intriguing stories attached to it.
The next
day, I took the Konkan Railway back to Mumbai. The route was scenic indeed. We
passed through several tunnels, chugged over hills , ravines and. Alas, I could
not click any good pictures through the dusty windows of AC 3 tier. Next time,
I will make it a point to travel by second class. Yes there will be a next time as there is so much that Goa has to offer that one trip is indeed not enough. Cheers!
Author Bio: Ausmita and her husband, Praneet are avid travelers. But with work and life often playing spoilsport with their travel plans, they devised a cunningly simple work around - Weekend Trips. WanderfulWeekendz is a living chronicle of their weekend sojourns. For more weekend sojourns off the beaten track, read and follow their Blog and Facebook Page.
*****
Have you ever ventured out Solo with doubts and enjoyed the trip nevertheless? Please do share your experience in the comments!
Author Bio: Ausmita and her husband, Praneet are avid travelers. But with work and life often playing spoilsport with their travel plans, they devised a cunningly simple work around - Weekend Trips. WanderfulWeekendz is a living chronicle of their weekend sojourns. For more weekend sojourns off the beaten track, read and follow their Blog and Facebook Page.
*****
Have you ever ventured out Solo with doubts and enjoyed the trip nevertheless? Please do share your experience in the comments!
i love solo even now im married. theres a freedom that allows you to relax as its only YOUR timetable!
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