2024 India – Colva
Sunday 14th January
We were very happy with the driver who took us to Palolem the week before so we booked him again to take us to Colva. Unfortunately, he sent someone else to drive us who must have learnt to drive at the lemming school of motoring. Most of the roads in Goa were only two lanes with a lot of trucks and farming vehicles blocking them so our driver was constantly having to overtake. I knew it had to be done but I would have preferred it to be done when nothing was coming in the opposite direction. There seemed to be a style of driving in Goa where a car pulls out to overtake on a bend with the driver having no idea if something is coming in the other direction. At the same time, three or four other cars pull out behind them. The principle was that if something was coming the other way, then the car in front of you would take the brunt of the crash. I suppose there is some logic in that as long as the car in front of you doesn’t quickly pull in, leaving you to be the leader. No matter how bad a driver is, I never say anything to them as it may be more dangerous for them to concentrate on how I want them to drive rather than the way they are accustomed to. However, on one occasion he was just about to join one of these kamikaze overtaking lines when I shouted “No!” which gave him a bit of a shock. He returned to our lane and we followed the truck in front for a few minutes until there was a place for him to overtake perfectly safely. We all know that driving like that doesn’t get us to our destination any faster so it can only be a macho thing to compensate for having a small penis. I couldn’t care less if someone wants to get themselves killed but I don’t want to be killed because of someone else’s penis.
We arrived at the Soul Vacation Hotel & Spa in time for lunch. I had a Chinese noodle dish that could have fed six people and as I preferred Federika’s choice I hardly ate any of mine so we took a doggy bag back to the room. The room we were given was downstairs and it wasn’t until we had unpacked half our stuff that I realised there was a low-frequency humming noise from someone else’s air conditioning unit. I have had this before where I could stand in one part of a room and hear nothing but stand somewhere else and it was really bothersome. In this case, when I lay on the bed with my head on the pillow it was loudest and it even bothered Federika who is not usually troubled by that kind of thing. There was no way I could have slept through it so I complained to reception expecting a big argument but they were great and gave us two other choices. We ended up with virtually the same unit but upstairs which was much lighter so we were both happy. Unfortunately, there was another daft problem but I didn’t have the heart to go back to the receptionist with it. Some idiot thought it was a good idea to play loud music throughout the entire hotel so there was no escaping from it. Our new room was nearer to one of the loudspeakers so we had to keep the windows closed all the time. Before you write me off as being a grumpy old git, imagine that you arrive at your hotel and there is a radio playing in your room that you can’t turn off. We would be on the beach most of the day and they turned the music off at 11 pm so I could put up with it. Other than the compulsory music, it was the best hotel in the area and overall we were very happy with it.
The rooms were built around the swimming pool with lots of shrubs and bird of paradise flowers everywhere. Breakfast was bizarre, as apart from a little station that provided any type of egg we wanted, the only concession to a European breakfast was baked beans and hash browns. Everyone knows they are the supporting actors for bacon and egg, they can never play the leading role. There was no cereal and no yoghurt which was weird because plenty of Indian people like yoghurt. There were some Indian dishes but I had never been able to get my head around curry for breakfast. The weird thing was that there were some lovely tables in the garden where we sat in the warm sun listening to the birds while everyone else preferred to eat inside with music blasting away and an overpowering smell of Indian food on hotplates.
The beach was a ten-minute walk and then another ten minutes along the seashore until we got to the restaurants that offered sunbeds. There were three restaurants bunched together and so when they saw us they all came running out to get our business. They knew that once they got us, we would probably go back every day which is what happened. A young man showed us to some sunbeds, brushed the sand away and gave us towels to lay on. Mid-morning he came down with a big tray of fish for us to choose from. At 10 euros a kilo, it was five times cheaper than in a mid-price restaurant in Croatia. Each day they came running down to greet us and make sure we were happy with the beds and sunshade in the right place. How nice it was to get service like that. The sea was lovely and warm, being calm in the morning and having medium-sized waves in the afternoon when the wind kicked in. We settled into a comfortable routine and to add to the pleasure we were both reading an excellent book set in Mumbai called Shantaram. We had been to Mumbai twice and so were familiar with a lot of the places that were mentioned in the book.
At the entrance to the beach was a huge children’s playground with every conceivable item of climbing equipment which I would have killed for when I was young. All kids love to dice with danger but it was difficult when all we had was a roundabout, a seesaw and a few swings. We had to be very creative to find ways of risking our lives in such lame playgrounds although I did get hit several times by swings, and seesaws could give your mate a sore arse for a week if you jumped off just at the right time. The playgrounds these days looked like death traps in comparison but I assumed kids didn’t get hurt on them otherwise they would have closed them all down. What surprised me about that beach playground was it was hardly used. It was true that it had a beach to compete with but I know which I would have preferred to play with when I was young. 
The Chinese noodles that I took from the restaurant on our first day were still in the fridge and as we enjoyed going out to eat every night I decided to throw them away. I didn’t like to dump them in the hotel as they were getting smelly so we walked into town looking for a rubbish bin along the way. I would have liked to have given it to a passing cow but I was afraid I would be breaking the law. It is not easy finding rubbish bins in India but I finally found three on the beach which were empty despite there being crap everywhere around them. Next to the rubbish bins was a pack of dogs which made me wonder. If scientists are so clever these days why can’t they genetically engineer dogs that eat plastic and fart ozone? 
We noticed how much busier Colva was since we were there six years earlier and there were times when it was difficult to cross the road. We did our usual patrol of the shops and one day Federika found a top she wanted but it had a stain on it. The shop owner said it was nothing and that he “100% guaranteed” that the stain would come out in the wash. Federika wanted the top and was happy to take it but she asked, “If the stain doesn’t come out, will you give me my money back?” He refused point blank and when we started laughing was unable to see the funny side of his 100% guarantee. We left, but not before I gave him a 100% guarantee that I would be back the next day to buy his most expensive suit.
One of the most striking additions to the shopping scene in Goa this year was tattoo shops. They were everywhere. I suppose the idea was that tourists go in and get a tattoo to remind them of their time in India. Tattoos are a mystery to me. Why don’t people just buy a nice little picture and stick it on the wall as they did in the past? If they get fed up with it they can just take it down.
Late afternoon, all the restaurants started putting tables and chairs on the beach near the shoreline. All the chairs faced the sea and were candlelit. It looked lovely and we would have liked to have eaten in one of those places but weren’t able to because of the music. It was loud, boom boom boom music and in any one restaurant you could hear three tracks playing at the same time. Most of the restaurants were empty so I wondered how many people like us would have liked to have eaten there but weren’t able to.
We ended up in one restaurant where the food was not bad and they had a middle-aged man hosting karaoke. He sang as well as hosted and walked around trying to get customers to sing. One young kid in a large party sang which we all loved and a German man who had obviously gone to the restaurant just to sing, took a turn. The host gave us a list of songs which was surprisingly comprehensive, offering several versions of the same song but it didn’t say what key the backing track was in which was one thing that had always puzzled me about karaoke. Singing a song in the wrong key was like squeezing yourself into the underpants you wore when you were seven years old. I told him I wouldn’t sing but later I regretted it and vowed the next time I would give it a go. The man did say he could play the tracks in whatever key I wanted which I supposed with technology was easy to do these days. There was the passing of yet another musician’s skill. Strangers used to get up on stage and as soon as they started singing we would play along in whatever key they started in. They could unintentionally change key mid-song or cut bars short and yet we always kept with them.
I made the mistake of telling Federika about my regret and she insisted I had a go the next time the opportunity arose. Just as we were leaving, a young, self-confident Russian girl sang a song with the rare skill of not singing a single note in tune and I noticed that every cow within a 50-metre radius vacated the area. It was touching to see her husband beaming with pride so I guess they both shared the same ear for music. The host came around asking for requests and made my day when he sang my favourite feel-good song, It’s Amore. It has one of the best lines ever written:
“When the moon hits the sky like a big pizza pie, it’s amore.”
He continued with lots of old Italian and Spanish singalongs and half the restaurant joined in with him. It turned out to be an unexpectedly great night.
After a few days on the beach, we decided to go on a day trip to Margao for a change as we had been there before and enjoyed it. As soon as we got out of the tuk-tuk, a woman appeared from nowhere asking where we were from and what we were looking for. Federika said she was looking for some tea so the woman demanded to show us the best place to buy it and then wouldn’t leave us alone until she showed us her sister’s stall which was outside the market. I always preferred a polite bugger off response but Federika never liked to disappoint people and while it was all very well being kind, it benefited no one. We got dragged to things we didn’t want to see and the woman ended up wasting her time as we never had any intention of buying anything from her.
There was a big covered market selling just about everything and a lot of the stalls selling spices so the exotic smell was overpowering but in a good way. A lot of shops were selling whole sacks of chilli peppers. 
For lunch, we went to a lovely little garden restaurant which featured a pond with turtles in it. We had an excellent meal served by a friendly waiter but what I enjoyed most was they were playing a selection of Eagles songs. Pleasant, relaxing music that no one could object to. We were there just at the right time because just as we were leaving they changed to loud dance music despite there being only one table in the restaurant with an elderly couple. I ignored the singer’s repetitive demand to “get down, get down, and shake it all around” and left the restaurant forever.
For a country that was so desperate for tourism it was amazing how fiddly it is to change money into rupees. India had the technology to land spacecraft on the moon but didn’t seem to know how to program an ATM. My first attempt at drawing out cash ended in a rejection without the slightest clue as to why. I guessed it was because there was a limit to the amount I could withdraw and they wanted to keep that information secret. After three attempts at guessing the wrong amount (it felt like I was playing a fruit machine), it spat my card out and told me it had been locked because of too many failed attempts. Fortunately, we always travel with plenty of cards but for some people, getting their card locked on holiday would be a disaster. The few exchange offices there were, only accepted cash but we finally managed to get money from my debit card at a Thomas Cook office. The receptionist was unsure of herself and asked for approval from head office. After a lot of discussion, she returned my card saying she couldn’t accept it because my name wasn’t on it. I showed her where my name was clearly written and she accepted it. Then she asked me how many lakhs I wanted. We both thought that a lakh was 10,000 rupees so I asked for three lakhs but got a shock when she started counting out £30,000 worth of rupees. How many tourists know what a lakh is and how many would go to an office for a £30,000 cash withdrawal? It turned out that a lakh was 100,000 Rupees. After an hour, we finally left the office with some cash but when we got back to the hotel I discovered she hadn’t returned my debit card. There was no answer from their office but I eventually managed to get through to their head office. A young man called me back to say he would have my card brought to me that night at 6 pm. He forgot. I finally got my card returned the next morning. That same night, India was celebrating the success of their moon landing.
We got up early on our last day to get to the beach while the sea was still calm and there was no wind. Because it was early we saw some men fishing from the shore, using a method called long line which used dozens of hooks on a long hand line. What was interesting was that for bait they used the guts from the fish that the fishing boats gutted earlier that morning. There was a lot of it around and what was left by the fishermen was eaten by the crows.
Every day on our walk to the beach we passed a large hotel called Colva Residency. It looked like it might have been a really nice hotel once. A two-story building, beautifully designed with all the rooms having a sea-facing balcony. Sadly, it was now derelict, and in some places, the collapsed roof was covered in blue tarpaulin which seemed to be a common theme in Goan exterior decor. Some rooms looked boarded up and there were no cars or any sign of life. I was interested in seeing when it was last in use and was amazed to see that it was still available on booking.com for £30 a night and even more surprised to see that people had stayed there recently. As if that wasn’t enough, the first review scored 9.0 and was entitled “Overall a great experience.” The second review was a perfect 10.0 with the only criticism being it didn’t have a toilet roll holder. Looking further, I saw the rooms had no A/C. Maybe some people thought that a hole in the roof was adequate ventilation. 
During our last few days in Colva we had a big problem with mosquitoes and both of us were just one mass of itchiness. I had some very good antihistamine cream with me but it didn’t seem to have much effect. It was strange because they didn’t usually bother me but the previous year in Croatia I also got bitten a lot. Maybe there was not enough alcohol in my bloodstream to put them off. I would have to work on that.
We came to the end of a great week in Colva and were already resolved to go back to India again. India is a bit like getting your sleeve stuck in a train door while you are still on the platform. As the train pulls away you start to panic and there is lots of noise and chaos as you get dragged through all the crap that people have thrown out the windows. You manage to get a foothold on the train and gradually work your way through the door and onto the train. From there you can relax and watch the crazy world go by.
2024 Nepal and India
