Let's Goa (F*cking dead monkey and the remains of a saint)

Going from Hampi to Goa was perhaps the hardest, most hard core trip we ever did. The sleeper bus to Goa  usually goes for 600 rs, but to be a tyrant, the lone bus operator sells the tickets for 700 just for the season. The tourist agent in French Travels was a nice old man who tried to book us on the sleeper bus that day; but we were not keen on taking it because it's too expensive (the reviews on Trip Advisor were bad too) and besides, there were no seats left. So instead, he gave us advice on how to go to Goa by taking local buses and how to chill out while doing it. He told us a story when he missed the sleeper and he lost his wallet but got home anyway. He's so cool! If you are ever in Virupapur Gaddi, seek his advice, he'll give you an honest opinion.

So, at 1pm we rode the ferry from Virupapur Gaddi to Hampi (where a punk girl told us to go to Arambol in Goa) then took a bus to Hospet (where a saddhu farmer who spoke good english gave us advice on train possibilities)... 

From there we took the long bus ride to Hubli (there was a big traffic jam, but the view at sunset of the dam was spectacular; then Henri saw a dead monkey... he tells the story best in person, so if you ever see us, DEMAND that he tells the story of the "f*cking dead monkey on the chair." He told his mom the story and she thought he was high - it's THAT weird)...

In Hubli, we had dinner at the place recommended by the old gentleman at French Travels, a place with a hyper waiter, good food, and chilled beer...

We were there from 10 till 12, then took a bus to Panaji in Goa. The road was as bad as we heard, we slipped and slid from our seats and Henri and I kept changing positions because the bus was trying to murder us... our one consolation was, at least we were not in sleeper beds. At 5 in the morning, we took another bus to Mapusa, which was the place where we could get a bus to Arambol at the northern tip of Goa.

It was great to see Goa at sunrise from the bus. We were hungry but for a moment, all that was forgotten. It's as green as Kerala, and as clean. We felt like we were out of India again.

We found a place to stay at 8am, slept for a long time to make up for the torture we endured for 16 hours. But guess how much the trip cost us? 491 Rs for two persons versus 1,400 Rs if we took the sleeper bus. The Israeli guy Henri made friends with in Goa found out we were doing the local bus circuit and he was impressed that we didn't do it the spoiled brat way... but he had no idea how heroic it really was :)

So here we are at last at Arambol beach, time to reward ourselves with cocktails on the beach, international cuisine, and long walks without anybody asking where we are from and what we are doing in India. Freedom!

The following day, Henri got his longtime wish, to drive a Royal Enfield Bullet 350 in Goa. It's the Harley Davidson of this side of the globe, and they still manufacture it exactly the way they made it in the British Era. I was happy because I got to see the famed cathedrals of Old Goa, remnants of the time when Goa was under the Portuguese.

We went south to Old Goa and stopped by the traffic police just in front of the corner going to this chapel... there was an Indian guy who shouted at us to "turn back!" but Henri paid no heed because we didn't understand what it meant. Turn back where? To France? It turned out that he meant avoid the traffic cops because they collect 100 Rs fine for bikers without helmets. But after paying the fine, you have a free pass the whole day to ride without a helmet.

The Bom Jesus Basilica, where we offered a candle in prayer, is the resting place of the incorruptible body of St. Francis Xavier - who arrived on these shores at the request of St. Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuit order.

In front is Se Cathedral, the biggest in all Asia. It reminded me of Milanese churches (with the exception of the Duomo) because it was so plain on the outside and golden on the inside.

 The church of St. Francis of Assisi with walls full of portraits. Oddly, you can take as many pictures you want... just no pictures of yourself.

One of the weirdest things we've heard so far... and we've heard of pretty weird demands from temple visits already.

 Next to Se Cathedral and St. Francis' Church is the chapel of St. Catherine.

Aside from a bunch of noisy kids on a field trip, the cathedral was empty.

After visiting the cathedrals, we had lunch and went to the train station to get tickets to Mumbai. But they were booked solid for a week, and our only chance to get seats was to go to Margao - 35 kilometers away! It was already 3pm and we had to hurry. Except for being stopped by a traffic cop again who said "very good" when we showed him that we paid the fine already (as if that made the road safer for us!), there was not a lot of traffic and we got there an hour later, and we got our tickets to Mumbai! Success!

Since we were in Margao anyway, we thought we'd take the opportunity to explore the tiny but lovely city.

They have many lovely but crimbling colonial houses. The courthouse was beautiful too.

But since it was starting to get dark and we were hours away from Arambol, we had to rush back, at least up to Panaji. We were a bit lost because the Lonely Planet map was confusing, but we took a chance and went to a convention center that we thought was next to the river, and from here we watched the sun set.

There were musicians rehearsing for a show the following day, so we got some free entertainment.

Then it got really dark and we had to go back. It was really chilly in the night because of all the trees, and we didn't take the right exit on the highway so we wound up in Pernem without really knowing, and it took us an hour more to get home. But it was an adventure, and that's what we're here for!