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Summer holidays in Goa!

INDIA | Wednesday, 3 August 2011 | Views [1865]

Whenever I travel to places I always hope to see and experience the beauty of the country I’m visiting like a local. I hate doing the usual touristy stuff. No wait. I’m lying. The touristy stuff is definitely on my list but only because I want to a) get a photograph of it and b) be able to say “I was there”.

But my love of travelling really comes down to wanting to experience life from someone else’s perspective. Don’t know if that makes sense…maybe this is something I can ramble on about in another post.

Back to Goa.

I’ve spent quite a few summers in Goa with my grandparents when I lived in Bombay as a child. I distintincly remember my last summer holiday in Morjim (North Goa), which is where my paternal grandfather had a house by the beach. 

My entire holiday would be spent with our neighbours’ children. We’d make swings out of the vines of a banyan tree, climb little coconut trees, chase dogs, tell each other ‘true’ ghost stories, follow hippies down the beach, make sand castles and walk for miles to get to the Big Well for a bath. 

As a child, these things made for the most fascinating holiday. Every day was an adventure.

When I think back to those days now I can’t imagine how I could have possibly done any of those things! Me climbing trees! Hell no! Sitting in a swing in a Banyan Tree where I’m sure there must have been snakes! No way! Following strangers down the beach and joining them while they sat under a coconut tree singing and strumming their guitar…oh maybe I’d do this…but as a 6 year old, I dunno?!

My toys during these holidays, I vaguely remember, included coconut shell halves, a few wooden pots, a biscuit tin box and a mini rolling pin that we used to pretend to make rotis with! It’s crazy how playing with sooooo little made me so happy then! It wasn’t because we couldn’t afford toys but because my grandmother never let me bring my ‘real’ toys to Goa because she said the other kids would steal them!

As one such summer holiday ended and it was time to go back to Bombay, I had a bright idea. I knew my grandmother would never let me take all the ‘toys’ I had ‘collected’ back to Bombay so I decided I would wrap them neatly in a cloth, dig a hole in the sand just outside our house and bury them! I told no one else about my secret spot. Not even my sister because she’s known to turn on me! 

That summer, I left Goa happy and satisfied in the knowledge that next year I’d have all my toys to come back to play with. 

Sadly, that was my last summer holiday in Morjim. My grandfather passed away after that holiday and me and my sister moved to Dubai to stay with my parents. Till today though, I wonder what happened to my toys. Did the other kids find them? Did they just rot? Not the biscuit tin of course…but the other stuff? Do kids still go and play in the shade of the banyan tree? Make toys out of coconut shells? 

I’d love to go back someday and spend a whole summer there…maybe someday with my own kids because those were some of the best days of my life.

Tags: goa, india, morjim


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