Banana pancakes & 'gracefully ageing hippies'
Trip Start
Jan 08, 2008
1
6
Trip End
Mar 31, 2008
Arambol,
India
Saturday, January 12, 2008
But then Goa is not the place to go if you want to avoid the tourists. Lying on the palm fringed beach yesterday there was hardly an indian in sight and if it hadn't been for the odd cow that strolled past we could really have been on any tropical beach in the world. We are in arambol by accident. We landed in mumbai after an empty flight with about a hundred movies to choose from and stunning views of snowcapped alps in the sunshine...got to our hotel at about 3am and although we slept a good part of the next day we decided to try to get a train out of there as soon as possible. we were paying 15 quid a night for what can only be desribed as an old toilet someone had converted into a bedroom...and 15 pounds may not sound like much but in india you can have a beach hut on the beach for a fiver a night
Sheela's, Arambol
.So we caught a train into mumbai's center, a huge city of slums and skyscrapers, crumbling colonial fountains and macdonald cafes. Hanging out of the open train doors, soaking up the humidity and the smells, past make shift houses built higgeldy-piggledy on top of eachother and full scale games of cricket on imacualte lawns, every player in pristine white.
Unable to get a sleeper train the next night we settled for a day train that left at 6.55 the next morning. no rest for the wicked. so the next day, bright and early, we were stumbling through victoria terminus - a huge relic from the empire complete with garagoyles and stained glass windows - alsmost stumbling into a building site in the middle of the station that had not been there the day before...
the train ride was long and hot, and we spent it sleeping and hanging out of the train doors, watching india fly by, groups of men and children standing at stations and in fields and on tracks and shouting and smiling as we sped past. The landscape down to goa is lush and green, rolling hills and forests and crops, little villages here and there, random people everywhere. The whole land smells fertile and green and tropically sweet and humid. And as i tried to sleep on the narrow upper bunk my dreams were intermingled with the constant comings and going of chai and coffee sellers, pan, dahl, fruit, rice biryiani, water and snack sellers, tirelessly making their way up and down the train calling 'chai madam, chai sir...nescaffe mam...nescaffe...'
as it got dark the train stopped in a station in north goa and we decided to jump off there and head for the beach at arambol, which the Lonely Planet described as the beach for long stay travellers and 'gracefully ageing hippies'
Kicking back
. We had meant to get off further down the line at old goa and come up to arambol in a few days, but the beach was too much to resist and so we grabbed our bags and stepped off into the humid night in the middle of nowhere. we found a road and a rickshaw and sped off into the darkness, finding ourselves half an hour later on a street paved with hippy stalls and restaurants and palm trees and - the LP was right!- gracefully ageing hippies on scooters. we were let off opposite a shop which offered rasta hairdoes and extension dreadlocks..yep, it's that kind of place.we set off in search of a hotel/beach shack and before we knew it we found ourselves at sheela's. sheela is a great little indian lady, round and fiesty and always laughing, who owns a house, small restaurant and rooms to let. she showed us into a room attached to her family's room and asked for 300 rupees a night (about 2 pounds each). she has since adopted us into the family, even waking us up this morning when we overslept because of jetlag - 'joe, joe, you wake up now, no crazy sleep!'. we sit in her cafe in the morning drinking chai and eating banana pancakes and watching the world stroll by.
The beach is about 2 minutes walk from us, through a band of palm trees and past a few rambling beach huts on stilts. although it gets rather busy in the late afternoon, it is big enough for everyone, and there is no end of rickety restaurants with plastic garden funriture and thatched roofs underwhich to eascape the sun and play pool. the water is warm, although a little choppy for swimming, it's more of a jumping in the surf kind of beach. There are drum circles, volleyball nets, yoga sessions and new years parties (still) and on a budget of 5 pounds a day you can see why people come and stay for the long haul.
So, with no pressing engagements here we are, and i suspect shall stay, until we get the urge to go...
Comments
Peace!
Sounds very chilled out darling! Banana pancakes, new exotic family, jumping into the surf with ageing hippies...I'm just a little jealous. Glad you're both having such good times. I'll be expecting some yoga lessons when you get back. I'd better get back to my crazy sleeping : )