19/082008 - 25/08/2008
Calangate and the North.
It was my first night out of the dodgy joint in Colva, and feeling comfortable in my backstreet lodge, i pulled out my laptop to do a bit of writing. I was pretty happy with the little baby since the most recent rebuild, and boot times were better than ever. I had managed to create a fully functional (for my purposes) Windows install, with a footprint of less than 500Mb. When you only have a 4Gb drive to run from, XP seems pretty bloated. Even with all device drivers, utilities and software, it was sitting on less than 650Mb. It's the little things that excite me, and for me this was pretty special. It was over-clocked to 990MHz, and purring along quite nicely. I powered her up, and went to do something for the 26 seconds it now took to boot. When i returned, all i could see on the screen was white. Shit. That ain't normal. I rebooted. Same thing. I could see via the LED's that everything was good, bar the display. It wouldn't even show the BIOS. The bloody thing must have suffered some shock or compression during the journey from Colva. Damn! What an ironic end considering the time i had invested in software! After all of my drama's with this little thing, i had resolved long ago not to let it get me down. I laughed, then i put it away. Maybe it would be OK tomorrow. Maybe i could get it fixed. Maybe i could buy the new model. Then again, maybe i should lighten my backpack, and send the cursed thing back home! But then, how would i keep writing this? I put it away, and went to sleep.
Felling pretty confident after travelling over 100 kms on my scooter, i was looking forward to the journey to Colva and back. Especially since it was without my big pack on this time. I awoke early to my neighbours grunting outside the door (not the californians in the next room, but the family of pigs from the corner) and decided to take advantage of it. I had no idea how many buses it would take to get back, and hence no clue as to how long it would take. On my way out of the side street where the 7-11 is situated, i was hollered down by a strange man in his cafe. It was the first time i had seen it open, and he was offering me breakfast. I certainly wasn't feeling hungry yet, but starting my day without a chai is unthinkable. His name was Joe, and he was so friendly and accommodating, i couldn't help but like the guy. His prices were incredibly cheap compared to the rest of Goa, and he seemed ready to do anything to help out. And, he had a bike for hire. Not a dodgy scooter either - he had a Hero Honda "Super Splendour". I mentioned my plans for the day, and told him that when i finally returned, i would love to take his bike. He was pretty chuffed, and we worked out a good price for it - only 175/day. The bigger bikes usually start at 250, but 300 is more common, especially in Calangate. He even told me all the info i needed for the bus trip back, and asked if i wanted dinner. Why not i thought? It's cheap, and it's close. He told me he isn't usually open in the off season - it's just not worth it. It was pure chance that he had opened that morning. But if i ordered now, he could have the things ready for me that night. Sweet! I told him to surprise me; a veg curry of some sort, dal, roti - i'm easily pleased!
With that, i started my trip back south. I had nearly made it all the way back, when on the last stretch of highway, i was whistled down by the police. Shit. Here we go. Vic had told me all about Goan police, and i had heard a bit from others also. This was bound to cost me some money.
"Licence please", he said.
"No worries my friend".. I rummaged around in my money belt, knowing full well i had left it in my pack. Not that i actually have an international licence. Or even a motorbike licence of any sort. "Ummm. It seems i have left it in my bag sir. Can i bring it back to you?" Feigning seriousness, but his grin widening, and he started to list off the relevant laws and fines. Driving without a licence, operating a vehicle without a permit and something else that seemed totally irrelevant. Rs.1000.
"Whoa. I don't actually have that sort of money on me. And aren't those two the same thing? No licence and no permit?" If it was possible, his grin widened further. He was loving it. A rich Australian he could rid of his cash.
"No, i'm sorry, they are different laws, and both enforcable. If you cannot pay, i will have to get my superior involved."
Of course i did have a Re.1000 note in my hidden pocket, but i really wasn't ready to hand it over. He went to fetch the boss. I watched as a big white guy on an Enfield handed over Rs.1000, and rode off. Then the boss strode up to me.
"1200 rupees is the fine", he said.
"Your friend said 1000.. Sir."
"It's actually 1200."
"I'm sorry my friend. I don't even have 1000. Could i maybe bring it to the police station?" He laughed openly at this, and said no, that wouldn't be necessary. It was an 'on the spot' penalty.
"OK, we will let you off with the minimum fine - 500 rupees." Again i rummaged around in my belt, and pulled out 225.
"This is all i have on me." Again, "Can i bring in the rest to the station? I could even bring in my licence." And again the reply was a hearty laugh.
"No, there's no need. Maybe you have Australian currency? We can change it for you." He really didn't want me to go to the station! He wanted as much as he could get, then and there. The 3 of us were smiling, and as serious as they were trying to act, it was obvious they were having fun - it's a game to the police; one in which they always end up with money. No i didn't have Australian dollars, and Rs.225 was all i could give. In the end, he grudgingly took 200, and sent me on my way. Even i was happy with that - 200 as opposed to 1200. I think i played their game quite well. An Italian couple i spoke to recently had to pay 700. They were threatened with jail if they didn't go to get more money..
The bus ride back to Calangate was long, but easy. 4 buses, and 3 hours, but all in quick succession - there wasn't much waiting. I made it back in only a few hours. That evening, after some time on the beach, i made my way to Joe's for dinner; and to collect my new bike. And what a spread he had put on! There was a fantastic vege curry, a 5-lentil dal, papadams, roti, salad, curd, pickle, a papaya shake - and all made especially for me; no one else was in there - he had opened for me alone! He was a talkative fellow too. We discussed everything from politics to religion, arranged marriages to money, his life running a restaraunt in L.A., his kids... He was a really interesting man! I had made a great friend, and he had found a loyal customer. His masala omelette was superb, and his dinners fresh and diverse. And of course, he made a great chai.
Over the next two days, i used Calangate as a base, eating extremely well, enjoying my dialogues with Joe, and exploring the north on the Honda. It was bigger and more fuel efficient than the scooter, and was capable of a higher speed, but had the acceleration ability of a limping tortoise. At first it liked to stall if the revs got too high, so hills were a bitch. But after about 50kms, i had blown the cobwebs out of it, and she was running nicely. Still a tortoise, but no longer limping. I went to nearly every beach north of Calangate, continuing my tour of the Goan coast, and still searching for somewhere for Didi's birthday. Her return was now imminent - she had a flight organised to Mumbai, then one down to Goa. After a month apart, we were both anxious to see eachother, and i really wanted to find somewhere nice, cheap and comfortable. And of course, it couldn't be too far from the airport - after crossing the globe, i'm pretty sure she wouldn't want to cross too much of Goa.. I had decided to pick her up on the bike (now that i was a pretty capable and confident rider), rather than make her catch a taxi all the way. After much searching, and many run ins with the local traders (they're like mosquitos at Varkata), i settled on a place in Anjuna. Further from the airport than i would have liked (about 1.5 hrs on the Honda), but a really comfortable room on a cliff overlooking the sea. I would have liked to look further, but i have run out of time - i collect her from the airport tomorrow! It's a good place, but maybe not where we would spend her big day. Now however, she can help me search! After only a week in Goa, i have ridden almost the whole length of Goa's coast, stayed in 5 different guesthouses, and visited over 10 beaches.. Talk about moving!
I have had an incredible time travelling alone; learning about India, other people, society, human interaction, but most importantly, about myself. Travelling alone; exposed and vulnerable, instills that ever so important sense of humbleness, and yet also a confidence i don't think can be gained elsewhere. The lessons learned here always seem the most valuable kind. I could keep going it alone, but at the same time am itching to see Didi again. I'm certain the lessons won't stop; they'll just be of a different flavour...
