Gone to Goa

Famous for its endless stretches of beaches, chilled-out atmosphere and lax rules for attire and alcohol, Goa is a must-see stopover for any traveller in India. Each beach offers something a little different, whether it be a hippie haven or all-night trance clubs, Goa has something for everyone. We opted for Palolem beach, which is one of the most southerly of the state's developed beaches and has endless cheap restaurants and beach huts, but still charming and relatively calm. Within 5 minutes of stepping off the bus, we were already relaxing with mango lassis taking in the Indian Ocean views just a few metres away. You know you're at a beach in India when, just like everywhere else in the country, there are cows lounging around eveywhere.

Although all of the beach hut resorts look exactly the same, they can range anywhere from 240 to 800 Rs, depending on how much the owners think they can gouge you for. Ours was a reasonable 400 Rs a night (about $10 Cdn), painted in outrageous neon yellow and green, and contained one single bed, faucet and mosquito netting. It was perfect.

On our first day we hired a catamaran from an English couple for the entire afternoon. It started off well with a straight downwind tack, and we explored some of the surrounding beaches and even saw some dolphins splashing in our wake. Two hours later, it was time to turn back, when I realized that I had no idea how to tack and turn the boat around. We were also starting to sit pretty heavily in the water. After sitting idle in the water for about 30 min trying to figure the boat out, a motorboat came out to investigate. A couple had spotted us from the isolated beach and called the English guys to say we were having trouble. After some careful guidance and some emergency boat work (it was taking in water because of a lost plug) we were well on our way and managed to make it back just as dusk was settling in.

The mornings were started off with an invigorating yoga class. Our instructor was a fit, Indian man in his mid-50s with wild greying hair that grew past his shoulders, looking every bit the part of the yogi master. He introduced himself as Swami Dayanand, but then said 'you will not be able to repeat it. Please call me Baba.' Our lessons began and ended with Baba giving us a huge bear hug and a kiss on the top of the head. As well as taking us through a series of yoga poses incorporating ashtanga, power yoga and pilates, he would also dispense life advice and recipes for treating ailments. To improve eyesight, he recommended a daily dose of white onion juice boiled with tumeric and applied directly to the eyes. When we complained of sore calf muscles, he felt them and frowned deeply. 'You Westerners and your running, I do not understand. Running is no good. From now on, no other exercise, only yoga.' He told us that rolling all of our toes would make our eyes better and that having a flexible waist would improve energy pathways to the mind. At the end of our last lesson, he gave us a final bear hug and grinned, 'add me to Facebook.'

One thing that Victoria really wanted to do in Goa was to hire a scooter for the day, something that I (privately) thought was a suicide wish. Drivers in India are even more insane than South America, and keeping within speeding limits, driving lanes and giving pedestrians right of way is totally optional. We were given one helmet between the both of us, but told us the helmet bylaw was rarely enforced. After a quick lesson (neither of us had ridden scooters before), we were off, with me in the backseat and my little sister in front. Did I mention that Victoria has never driven before? As in, she does not possess a driver's license? Anyways, if succesfully navigating Indian roads is any kind of test of driving skill, then she passed with flying colours. After some very nervous moments involving entire truckloads of hay spilled onto the roads, passing through a herd of moving cows, and then both of them combined, as well as a couple of wrong turns, we finally made it to our destination, Turtle Beach. There we saw nesting sites of endangered marine turtles, and pretty much had the entire beach to ourselves. On the way back, I decided to let her drive. Hopefully mine and Hazel's spotty driving record is not something that will be repeated by the third Ho sister.