16/08/2008 - 18/08/2008
Colva Beach, Southern Goa to Colangate Beach, Northern Goa
I awoke early, and after a morning walk and chai on the beach, i went in search of a bike. A motorcycle tour of southern Goa sounded like a great idea. Sounds pretty glamourous too - i'm sure you can picture me cruising the beaches on a chromed up Enfield, or a sporty TVS or Bajaj..... Well, being a bit cheap, i ended up with a 100cc Honda Dio scooter. I managed to get the price down from 400/day to 150, with a bit of fuel thrown in aswell. With a mental map of Goa (about as reliable as my mental map of India as a whole), i headed towards Palolem. It should have been easy - go into Margao, get on the NH17, and head south about 40 or 50kms. Again i needed money, so i stopped in town before heading south. Most of my time there was spent talking to my Keralan mates from the train ride (who i bumped into on the street) and looking for my lost bike amongst the hundreds of other Honda Dio's. And working out that Margao was out of fuel. 3 closed petrol stations, and one with a line of about 100 bikes (literally - traffic on the street had stopped due to the queue), i decided i would get it further south. Town was good practice to get back in the swing of Indian riding, but directional signs were almost non-existant, so some guess work would be in order to get on the right road. It was then that i realised my speedo didn't work. Or my fuel gauge. I should have turned around then, but the sun was shining, i had energy and was up for an adventure! Anyway, what could go wrong?
I got on the biggest road heading south, and figured it must be the NH17. It was a beautiful ride, and i was enjoying everything - the sun, the wind, the scenery; dodging the cows and goats. Life is good! Then my bike started to splutter in the middle of nowhere. I guess he didn't throw in as muh fuel as i thought. Petrol is usually available in 1l water or coke bottles almost everywhere, so i pulled up to a small shop to grab some. Margao's fuel shortage had stretched to these towns too however, and they had none left. The nearest was 10kms further south. Here comes that adventure! I kept my bike well within the 'economy' zone, making it the 10k's - just. She stalled right as i pulled into the town. Phew! But i recognised the name of the town - Quepem was south east of Margao - i was on the wrong road! Still up for exploring, but not wanting to get lost 50kms from Colva, i decided to get back to the coast, and check out the beaches immediately surrounding Colva - Majorda, Varca, and down to Cavelossim. I could attempt Palolem another time. Again, i was loving the ride. It is a fantastic way to explore - stopping for fresh juice or a beer wherever i wanted, checking out all the little nooks of beach. These areas were mostly beautiful, but inhabited by the likes of The Park Hyatt, The Radisson etc etc.. 3000 - 6000 rupee per night gated resorts. Well out of my league, and not what i would want anyway. You could forget you were in India in one of those places...
About 12kms south of Colva, i pulled into a shop to buy some snacks, and noticed a bit of a wobble on the bike. I had punctured the tyre. Damn! An insultingly amused taxi driver told me the nearest place to fix it was at least 10kms back towards Colva. There was enough air that if i rode in a straight line at less than 10km/hr, the rim wouldn't touch, and the tyre wouldn't roll. I was up for a long ride home, even if it didn't get worse.. Laughing at myself and my very unsuccessful attempt at a nicer beach, and travelling not much faster than the wandering cows, the rain hit. And it was that wonderful monsoonal rain - the sort that gives about 5 seconds warning before dumping 100mm in 15 minutes. With no real shelter in sight, i shared a spot under a dripping tree with a couple of goats to wait it out. I had been so lucky with the rains until then, always managing to be undercover when it hit. I guess it had to happen sooner or later, but why 10 kms from home on a broken bike?! Luckily, within about 5kms after starting again, i saw a bunch of rickshaw tyres sitting out the front of a shoebox sized shack.. Sure enough, the old guy within could fix me up. While i watched, he had the wheel off, the tyre off, the tube out and fixed, then all back together again in about 15min. Impressive. And what did he want for that? Rs.40. About $1. I gave him 50, shook his greasy hand, and off i went. It was late again by this stage, so with my tail between my legs, i cruised home to watch the sunset, and plan another escape from Colva.
That evening before dinner, i found what should have been first on my list of things to buy - a good map of Goa. Pondering over it, i decided to ditch Palolem, and head north. The famed Anjuna, and surrounds. And this time, i was taking my pack. The bike didn't have to be returned till the following day, and there was no way i was spending another night in the Colmar Beach Resort. I would just find a place, then ride the bike back to Colva the next day, and bus it back again. 2 nights in that dank room was more than enough, and i would rather take my pack on the bike, than try to squeeze it onto another packed bus. Managing to avoid all of the police checks (Goa has busloads of police everywhere, and do random checks down the highways), and thinking i was pretty special for it, i did a slow scenic ride, all the way north. By the time i reached Calangate Beach, i was exhausted. It was even busier than Colva, but that made it a hell of a lot more interesting. Touristy shops, lots of choice in food, bars everywhere (Goa is has no tax on alcohol), and cheap accommodation. At first i did a circuit of the beach area, checking prices and how damp the rooms were, only to find it as expensive as Colva. But then...
Scrying out the cheapest places invariably brings me in touch with certain types of people, and Calangate was no exception. A dodgy looking dude latched himself on to me, offering everything you could imagine. He said he could get me a room just back from the beach for 200. The cheapest i had found myself was 400. Why not i thought - i'll at least check it out. He jumped on the back of my bike, and directed me to an area i would never have thought of looking. Now, the 7-11 guesthouse may have looked like a dump, but the room was bigger and in better condition than any of the 'hotels' i looked at. And it lacked that smell of monsoonal damp. I got him to take me to a few others, but 7-11 was the best for under 500, without a doubt. On our way back there, he asked me to stop so he could pick some things up. We pulled up near a local resedential type area, and he motioned for me to come if i wanted. We ended up at an unsigned hole in a concrete wall with bars on it. Now this was dodgy. I realised pretty quickly that he wasn't picking up milk and bread. What had i got my self into now? Sure enough, it was a drugs counter. He wanted some charas to sell to another tourist in the 7-11. Standing there, like a fish out of water, my whole life in my backpack, my mind started wandering through scenarios. Especially when the junkies rocked up. But, i ended up sharing a cigarette with them, and they were so far removed from the junkie's i've had experience with in Australia. Vic was 25, was born in Goa, but had lived all over India. A mad keen soccer player with a great sense of humor, and lots of advice about Goa. A really cool guy, but with a slight habit... I actually got on better with Vic than the dodgy bastard who had taken me there! On paper, this all sounds a bit daunting - waiting in line for drugs with a bunch of Goan smackies. But it was never really like it sounds. Not once did i feel threatened, scared or intimidated. And i ended up having a great talk to a great guy. I even asked him about his habit - like all addicts, he had plans to stop, but they never quite came to fruition. After about 20 minutes of waiting (and it wasn't even for me!) i excused myself, and went to check in and find something to eat.
Now i had a base in the north to explore from, which was a manageable distance from Colva. I just needed to return the scooter, and get back to Calangate to hire a new bike. Tomorrow, tomorrow..
