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If
after almost half a day in the plane you expect the world that has
spun beneath you to be a bit different, then when you reach Goa you
won’t be disappointed.
You
drive out from the airport in a bus with fans above the seat and hot
air blowing in through the open windows.
It’s the brilliance of the
colours that strikes you first.
The
tall palm trees with bright blue skies above and on the red earth
below pigs scratching
around the bamboo covered shacks.
The
roads with their dusty verges are not for the faint hearted.
The
larger vehicles approach head to head, swerving at the last moment.
I
looked out saw that we were overtaking a
scooter carrying a complete family. There were two children
between dad and the handlebars and the mum who was clinging on, with
her sari flying in the breeze, was holding a baby. Every now and then
we’d grind to a halt as a white cow sauntered across the highway or
we’d pass carts hauled by water buffalo.
It’s
all seemed typically ‘Indian’ but as we
got to know Goa we discovered the Portuguese influence and
found that the churches outnumbered the temples and every few hundred
yards there were roadside shrines. It was a fascinating mixture.
The
beach side shacks provide a surprising range of food and even the
cheapest will serve up king prawns, lobster and shark.
I settled for a vindaloo and a ‘Kingfisher’
The
Kingfisher is the beer which comes in litre bottles and is a good deal
more palatable than the wine. With
temperatures in the nineties you get very thirsty.
The
bays were beautiful, especially in the North. Golden sands and palm
trees what more could you ask for?
Though a word of caution if you are struck by it’s beauty,
have a care, I was narrowly missed by a falling coconut, so watch
where you dream! Naturally
I used my nut, I opened the coconut up and enjoyed the drink.
 On
the beaches fruit sellers will slice up a pineapple for you as you
sunbathe.
If
you buy one you can dive into the sea to clean your sticky fingers.
Peddlers wander along offering jewellery, carpets, and bags. Then you
have the physical side of things, you can get an all over body massage
in coconut oil or there are some
rather strange gentlemen who offer an ear cleaning service. I wasn’t
quite brave enough to let them stick their twigs in my lug holes!
If
you linger on the beach until evening you’ll be on hand to watch the
fishing. As teams of men haul in the nets it makes quite a dramatic
photograph against the setting sun.
‘Nostalgia
by Steam Train’ was the title of one of the excursions we tried.
It puffed away from Vasco da Gama
up to Chandor taking
us to a large colonial home for high tea. Through the open doors of
our wooden carriage we watched as villages and the fields of bright
yellow flowers slipped by and every now and then when the train slowed
down we were joined by locals hitching a ride on the running board. 
Other
forms of transport include the auto-rickshaw, or ‘tuk-tuk’ as the
noisy black and yellow
three wheelers are more colourfully called. They are very cheap and you can hire them by the day to take
you to the more distant beaches.
I
visited the market at Marpusa and found that it was different from any other market that
I’d ever been to.
A group crowded round a snake charmer, who was
setting a mongoose against a cobra and I found a mass of humanity
giving the hard sell to baubles, bangle, beads, bedspreads.
There
was everything that I  didn’t
really need.. I had a go at bargaining, but somehow the price was
never right. The word nekka
is the first one you learn, and use most, it means ‘no!’
but not many of the traders believed it.
It
was all very colourful, and while what I saw with my eyes made
me itch to catch it all on camera, what I smelled with my nose left me
less enthusiastic, especially when
I
reached the ladies who squatted on the ground surrounded by heaps of
dried fish.
In
the end I settled for an upmarket tee shirt for about £1.50 and was
rather surprised to find a tag for C&A’s already attached. I
think I did better than a lady in our group who bought a brilliant
bedspread for £35, she said it was a bargain but reckoned that she
would have to repaint her bed room to match it!
On
the last evening we drove through the bustling streets of Panaji and
after watching the sun go down on the Mandovi River we had dinner in a
Goan home. The house was in the Portugeuse style and the owners wife
sung to the music of a guitar as we relaxed on the veranda. Back in
1510, the Portuguese made Goa the capital of their eastern empire,
it’s dazzling opulence earned it the title of Goa Durada, ‘Golden
Goa’, today applied to tourism, it’s a name that fits well.
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