Head out on the highway....

Trip Start Oct 12, 2003

Trip End Oct 11, 2004

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Flag of India Goa, India
Saturday, December 6, 2003

Even Pete didn't manage to get his camera out to catch a snap of Voytek crashing his big Enfield 350 straight into a kamikaze cow on one of the lush green forested backstreets of the Goan coast. I was leading our 3-man convoy, which was rare (I prefer to stay at the back and learn where the potholes are by watching the other two bounce up and down). It was the usual cows-in-the-road situation which I slowed down for, then sped round the corner only to hear a dull crashing sound. I go back and Voytek's trying to lift his bike up while one of the cows has legged it to the safety of the roadside forest. The cow, whilst wandering straight up the road with its bovine mates, had chosen at the last moment to make a sharp 90 degree turn and became unavoidable. It must have hurt. He'd chosen a good place for it though - next door to a mechanic's shack. After some fussing from local ladies across the street who gave Voytek an ice-pack, the mechanic turned up from his lunch break and sorted the bike out

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Spent 2 nights at Mirramar beach on the outskirts of Panjim city. The reason was supposed to be so we could spend a day in 'old Goa' but really I think the lads just struggled to leave the vicinity of a truly westernized 'Barista' coffee shop. Bought my 3rd pair of shades so far on this trip near Mirramar - some fake Oakleys - after breaking the 2nd pair within 24 hours or purchase. Unfortunately this 3rd pair only lasted a couple of days until I lost them in Colva. I then found the cheapest pair I could find - they're an absolute necessary on the bike, especially around sunset when the bugs are hitting you like bullets as you zip through the cooling air.

We lost Voytek whilst cruising around town in Panjim on our second day there. Bikes everywhere, as with most built-up areas I've seen in India. Voytek tends to lead the way but never signals when turning so when he suddenly veered off from a one-way street we had no chance of following. On foot, Pete and I took a street corner each, presuming he'd make his way back to where we'd parted. 10 minutes later he zipped past, I shouted, but I was too slow. I decided to be on the bike ready to chase him next time he went passed. When I got to the bike there was a truck inching its way down the road, loaded with 4 bikes

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. Two guys were loading a 5th bike onto the truck and when they were done they came to our two bikes. It was then that I saw the signpost positioned next to where we'd parked - "No Parking". These guys didn't piss about with wheel clamps.

I explained politely that we were just leaving but the two blokes seemed to ignore me and got a grip on Pete's bike. Then an official-looking uniformed bloke stepped towards me and after quickly shouting Pete over to get his bike on the move, I went into full-on asslicking "I'm sorry sir, I'm sorry" mode. A less-than helpful bystander suggested "Fine! Fine!" as a compromise solution to the situation but the official bloke, to my astonishment, let us go without demanding a baksheesh backhander.

Later on we find ourselves on a busy and dirty old market road where we stop to have a look at the adjacent beach. Six or seven girls fashioned as western-style tarts come over and start chatting us up while clinging onto our arms in a more-than-friendly stylee. We say lots of 'no thanks' but this doesn't see to deter them. Pete stands aiming his camera to get a shot across the beach and the girls go all giggly when an oblivious Indian bloke wanders over and starts taking a pee in the middle of the landscape scene.

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The girls then come over for a second barrage of touting but Voytek nears violence when one cheekily pinches him on the cheek. He strides his bike and makes a sharp, noisy exit leaving a cloud of dust to fall on the working girls but there was no need -they were dirty enough. A minute later he stops to take out his alcohol-soap solution to cleanse himself of their evils.

Palomen beach was our eventual destination - the most Southern point of our journey. Things are different there. Loads of restaurants and beach shacks along the beach - one of which we took residence in for 3 nights. More relaxed there than any of the other places we'd been to. No banging trance music like Anjuna, just the beautiful beach and the beautiful sunset and the 'beautiful people'. Played lots of Shithead with a group we met at the beach shacks - this formed a large part of our nightlife. They liked to get up 7 or 8am, get stoned, then get more stoned until retiring well before 11pm. They'd been at it for weeks. Don't think I could handle a single day like that anymore.... must be getting old.

Made our way back down the coast, stopping off in Colva again to see people we'd met a few days earlier. Back at Anjuna we had a quiet night and I rose early to head for the deserted beach. At 7.30 I passed Paradiso, the main party place, and saw tons of bikes outside. At first I though "what a responsible lot of people these Anjunans are, leaving their bikes here and getting taxis home last night". Then I thought "wait on a minute". Walking into the club's outside patio area I hear the music pumping and the elated "Yeah!!"s as the tune reaches another trancy crescendo. They're still at it. Loads of them. The wonders of Class A drugs.