Wednesday, October 11 Flight to Goa

You know a city sucks when you don’t want to do anything but stay in the hotel. To tell the truth, I have no desire to do anything more in this city. That’s how I feel about Mumbai. Mumbai is slummy, extravagantly wealthy, crowded, unfriendly, and doesn’t have time for you. I couldn’t wait for the flight to Goa for two reasons; I want to swim in the beach and stay in nice hotels, and I want to get out of this hole. We packed and were driven to the Santa Cruz airport. The airport was filled with rich Indians, but mostly European vacationers going to Goa. We took Jet Airways, which served us candy, drinks, and a meal even though it was a 50-minute flight. It was a nice flight, and Jet is apparently one of the best domestic airlines in the world. That being said, really, who came up with the name? That’s like having a company named Plane Airlines. We got to Goa, and were picked up by a guy named Elvis. We drove over the Mandovi River, and through the coconut groves, paddy fields, and sleepy fishing villages of Goa. For the last 10 years, Goa has drawn many hippies and tourists from the cold parts of Europe, Iran, East Asia, and India. Why? Because there are beautiful beaches, a high per capita income (thanks to tourism, mining, fishing, and farming), and a lax beach attitude not found in other parts of India. It was colonized by the Portuguese in 1510 as their capital, because of the idyllic location, climate, and the abundance of wide rivers and natural harbors. The Portuguese forcibly converted the population to Roman Catholicism and built many cathedrals and whitewashed churches all over the area. Goa actually didn’t end up in Indian hands until 1961, 14 years after independence. I was going to call my housemates, who were also in Goa. However, since I no longer have a cell phone thanks to some pickpocket in Mumbai, I didn’t have their numbers. My parents paid massive bucks to stay at the Taj Holiday Village, the nicest hotel in town. However, it was not high season, meaning that: The pool is closed for renovation, the beach is not suitable for swimming because of the undercurrent, construction was going on next to our room, and the tours we wanted to take were not running. It’s like having a huge nuclear shelter completely filled with canned foods, but forgetting to bring a can opener. Once again, thanks for telling us, incompetent travel agent. Despite this, the room was incredible, at least compared to the $2 hotels I stay in. The room was a bungalow surrounded by coconut trees and with a hammock. The inside was furnished with brand new plumbing, plasma TV, and free bottled water and fruit. One thing that was kind of weird; the bedroom has a huge window looking right into the bathroom, which opens from the bedroom side. And then they wanted to take the duvet cover at night, because we’re only supposed to have it during the day? I get the idea that this place is for honeymooners who want luxury and seclusion….and don’t mind nothing going on. We had dinner at the really nice Beach House restaurant. For the first time in three months I had fish. We were serenaded by some Indians in Portuguese fluffy shirts and top hats. Walking back to our hotel was an adventure. We got lost in the dark, and had to flag down a golf cart.