Another post out of blue. :-) It was such a long time ago, I would say it's already history, but the memories are alive and vividly present in my mind.I remember the first shock: after travelling almost two days through the half of India we arrived to our guesthouse and were shown a room only comparable to a prison cell. But a short discussion with the owner and some extra payment (still ridicolously cheap) we got a nice friendly room with English toilet and hot(!) shower.
We went to get some food and see the famous Anjuna Beach! For some reasons every second restaurant called German Bakery. We couldn't figure out why, but the one closest to our home offered very nice continental food and good music.
We walked down to the beach, climbed down between steep hills to find a 20 meters beach full of rubbish and Indians! Indian tourists are really annoying, but about this a bit later. After 5 minutes we walked home disappointed.
interest, that I did not recognize that her hair was almost eaten up by a
cow while sleeping right next to me on the beach.
Again a platitude: in one given moment a man can focus only on one thing. If it is reading then it is reading...
Here I should write sth. more to fill in the space, but not today, I should make some progress in my work...
See You later, take care!
We walked down to the beach, climbed down between steep hills to find a 20 meters beach full of rubbish and Indians! Indian tourists are really annoying, but about this a bit later. After 5 minutes we walked home disappointed.
Next day new optimism: we decided to take autorikshaw to the place nearby, Vagator Beach. You 
can see the outpot of this little excursion on the photos, we found what we are came for. Nice, long sandy beach with palm trees, beds and umbrellas and fresh juices served cold (our ultimate favourite is strawberry, give it a try!). That was the point we started to appreciate the place. Of course we were still in India so stray dogs, cows evrywhere and for some rubbish we also did not need to walk far. And India is not India without vendors, who try to sell everything from Cds and clothes to food, jewellery, massage, everything is on sale, special price only for You, because they are just to leave tomorrow. And next day the same people with the same speech as if nothing has happened the day before. If You are in a good mood, the whole thing is funny, if not... well... then it's not.
Goa is the place I got sick for first time (and hopefully last!) in India. It was nothing serious, some fever, pain here and there and diarrhea. I was in the edge of fin
ishing my life. Men were not created to be sick. Without a woman on my side it could have been much worse!
We visited Old Goa, a beautiful city full (but really full) of old churches and cathedrals bulit by the Portuguese and, the former colonial ruler of the area. We joined a group on a multimedia show on the life of Jesus... Well, I learnt some brand new information, and saw him in for the very first time in lotus posture. I don't know how the Indian soul works, but my experience is that every attempt to touch it comes in a kindergarten manner. So terribly naive and childish that You just want to laugh, cry, or best: run away! And so we did!
Indian tourists... This is something very special. Indian toursits are almost enteriely men. Young men in their 20's or 30's travelling in groups. They all wear long trousers and shirts. And they never get rid of them even if they are going to the sea. (many of them can't swim, in Goa alone some 200 people drown yearly).
They love to stare at white tourists and they don't feel embarassed at all. They come close and just look at You. Some of them are brave enough to come and ask Your permission for a joint photo. Well, this is goes mainly for girls, then they can say at home: "See this white chick was my girlfriend!" I am not kidding! They are not bad people... they are just different... sooooo different sometimes.
It was also in Goa where I got to read a book after such a long time. Well, it was only Dan Brown's Da Vinchi Coode,
can see the outpot of this little excursion on the photos, we found what we are came for. Nice, long sandy beach with palm trees, beds and umbrellas and fresh juices served cold (our ultimate favourite is strawberry, give it a try!). That was the point we started to appreciate the place. Of course we were still in India so stray dogs, cows evrywhere and for some rubbish we also did not need to walk far. And India is not India without vendors, who try to sell everything from Cds and clothes to food, jewellery, massage, everything is on sale, special price only for You, because they are just to leave tomorrow. And next day the same people with the same speech as if nothing has happened the day before. If You are in a good mood, the whole thing is funny, if not... well... then it's not.Goa is the place I got sick for first time (and hopefully last!) in India. It was nothing serious, some fever, pain here and there and diarrhea. I was in the edge of fin
ishing my life. Men were not created to be sick. Without a woman on my side it could have been much worse!We visited Old Goa, a beautiful city full (but really full) of old churches and cathedrals bulit by the Portuguese and, the former colonial ruler of the area. We joined a group on a multimedia show on the life of Jesus... Well, I learnt some brand new information, and saw him in for the very first time in lotus posture. I don't know how the Indian soul works, but my experience is that every attempt to touch it comes in a kindergarten manner. So terribly naive and childish that You just want to laugh, cry, or best: run away! And so we did!
Indian tourists... This is something very special. Indian toursits are almost enteriely men. Young men in their 20's or 30's travelling in groups. They all wear long trousers and shirts. And they never get rid of them even if they are going to the sea. (many of them can't swim, in Goa alone some 200 people drown yearly).They love to stare at white tourists and they don't feel embarassed at all. They come close and just look at You. Some of them are brave enough to come and ask Your permission for a joint photo. Well, this is goes mainly for girls, then they can say at home: "See this white chick was my girlfriend!" I am not kidding! They are not bad people... they are just different... sooooo different sometimes.
It was also in Goa where I got to read a book after such a long time. Well, it was only Dan Brown's Da Vinchi Coode,but I really enyoed to read again sth. that is made of pages that You can turn, and longer than a newspaper article. If don't believe me ask Raquel! She will confirm, that I was unable to put it aside. I was reading it with such deep
interest, that I did not recognize that her hair was almost eaten up by acow while sleeping right next to me on the beach.
Again a platitude: in one given moment a man can focus only on one thing. If it is reading then it is reading...
Here I should write sth. more to fill in the space, but not today, I should make some progress in my work...
See You later, take care!
No comments:
Post a Comment