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Sober look at Goa (well, almost sober)

21 November 2014 • Travel time: with 03 November 2014 on 12 November 2014
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A war is a war, and a scheduled vacation… Despite everything, a difficult decision was made to leave for a vacation. But, alas, the amount set aside for vacation, which, at the very least, would have been enough for Thailand, was now only enough for Goa. Well Goa, so Goa, why not? Having reached the last (you never know what), I bought a tour to the southern part of the state, where, according to rumors, it is more calm. As usual, the travel agency gave me a decent discount (this time 6%). To my great surprise, the girls were doing well, although many of their competitors were closed. Of course, one of the cheapest hotels Alagoa 2 * ВВ was bought on Betalbatim beach near Colva. And for this pleasure, $1.300 was paid, which in hryvnia equivalent was more than we paid last year for Sri Lanka, which cost us almost $2.000.

For obvious reasons, I had to fly from Kyiv. Pretty nervous two weeks left before the expected departure, with a heavy heart left their native land. The road to Kyiv is a separate quest (we will omit it for clarity). And here we are in Borispol. There was still plenty of time before departure, and we stumbled into a corner opposite the exchangers to have a bite to eat with groceries taken from home. Since, for all the same understandable reasons, the austerity regime was adopted, it was decided not to show off, not to approach the Dutik for a cannon shot and eat and drink home-made preparations as much as possible. While we were snacking on the remnants of cognac with sausage, we paid attention to the queue formed under the windows - people poured kilograms of currency. And I had a certain amount of free hryvnia with me (we left with a very vague prospect of returning). Decided to try my luck. I got in line, moving very slowly. Naive! Of course, they did not have any currency in free sale! Then I changed tactics and began to pester people in line with an offer to buy their currency at the selling rate (the margin, however, was only 20 kopecks). People were scared and cold. However, in their place, I would probably behave the same way. After spending about half an hour on this hopeless task, I still managed to get a hundred bucks at a ridiculous rate of 13. Well, at least something.


At the appointed time and place, we met with a Newztravel agent, who handed us our passports with cheerful Indian visas. We went through all the formalities, and now we are languishing in anticipation of departure. I still looked into the dutik, but, alas, I did not find any Crimean brut for 3 euros there. And in general, all the prices, in the current light, seemed to me simply sky-high. Well, okay, sobriety is the norm. In addition, last year, after champagne at the airport and cognac on the plane, when I arrived in Sri Lanka, I thought I would glue my flippers together - it was so bad for me. But I wanted to drink brutally after dry-cured sausage. In the buffet there were water and beer for hryvnia - but the prices! I had to pay 24 hryvnias for a half-liter bottle of water for me, and 46 hryvnias for a bottle of Ukrainian beer for my dear one. Robbery!

And on the plane, the neighbors, apparently not experiencing financial difficulties, actively fermented, despite the strict ban on Airarabia. And we were sadly watching the Election Day comedy on the tablet (“I’m sitting, I haven’t been drinking since morning... ”) : (((. I’m not a fan of the Leningrad group at all, but the final phrase of the soundtrack is simply brilliant and relevant for all times and Neighbor, who was sitting farthest to the aisle, gaped, and was caught by a stewardess with a bottle in her hand, as a result of which, Ballantyne's barely opened liter went in favor of the audience. ", were careful. They pre-saused whiskey with Coca-Cola and quite legally used this business. Moreover, two of them managed to use up to a complete cut, and the third began to frankly stick to me, despite the presence of a life partner nearby. He even offered to arrange a fight (a jousting tournament in the sense), but, fortunately, something distracted him, and soon he joined his friends in the kingdom of Morpheus. We flew for almost 6 hours, making a decent detour around unreliable territories.

Upon arrival in Sharjah, a neighbor, at the insistence of his wife, still managed to take his liter from the crew. Two and a half hours in a frozen airport, the next plane, three and a half hours of torment, and we are finally there. People in masks, in addition to the usual migration card, were forced to fill in some other paperwork, apparently related to the Ebola virus (complete bullshit, pure fraud). Then another, this time, a customs declaration (also purely for excuses). Fucking bureaucrats! Leaving the airport, it was not without difficulty that we found a representative of the host country. The girl stood quietly on the sidelines, not advertising herself in any way. I only recognized her by her badge with the name of the agency. Having received the c. u. , we went to the buses. Ours turned out to be very small, besides us, only four people were traveling. The driver gave us a small bottle of water and quickly took us to the hotels. The journey took about half an hour.

It was not yet six in the morning when we drove up to our future home. A sort of Baskerville Hall, a house surrounded on three sides by swamps. We were met by a sleepy security guard who woke up a guy with a higher rank. He said to wait until eight. She collapsed on the couch and tried to take a nap, but it didn't work out. Then, having brought things into the room near the reception, lined with trays of eggs, we decided to go look for the beach at dusk. Thanks to the reviews of tourists, we knew perfectly well where we were going and where everything was. It was not hot at all, as they said when landing, 25 degrees, and I pulled it back, the jumper was taken off. A couple of girls came out of the hotel, dressed in swimsuits and light tunics. Brr! We reached the sea, the water was warmer than the air. After wandering along the beach and collecting shells, we returned back. It wasn't eight o'clock yet, but there was a guy at reception who said if we gave him ten bucks, he'd put us in a deluxe room with a balcony, naw. I did not argue, my knowledge of English was sorely lacking for this. Yes, and the settlement by all standards from 12 o'clock. Therefore, I had to give him a blood chervonets. The attendant dragged our half-empty, and therefore light, bag suitcases to the fourth (or last) floor, receiving a van dollar that happened to be lying around with me, since we didn’t have rupees yet. The room turned out to be quite decent and clean, with a good balcony, although looking around the building from the outside, it seemed to me that all the rooms are exactly the same and also with balconies, and we were stupidly bred for money. Well, figs with him, but they immediately settled.


Let's go have breakfast. Outdoor tables by the pool, surrounded by brand new bungalows for two owners. It’s a nice place, but in the evening it’s probably quite noisy there, which categorically doesn’t suit me - even though the stones from the sky, at 21.00 I go to bed. The breakfast did not offer variety. The guy marking which room was from which room asked if we wanted scrambled eggs or fried eggs? Today we chose an omelette. Vessels with fresh juice, tea, coffee and milk stood on a separate table. Taking a glass of fresh juice and drinking it in one gulp, they took more, and no longer became impudent. They brought our omelette, two toasts each, a package of butter and jam in a metal mold. And so every day. Only fresh juices differed in some variety. Mango, however, was not fresh, but a drink, watermelon was good, and pineapple, although natural, was slightly diluted with water. Well, that's all. But it was enough for us not to die before dinner.

After breakfast, it was decided to get some sleep - after two almost sleepless nights, I just fell off my feet and couldn’t think about anything else. But we didn’t manage to relax like a human being, having dozed off for a short time, we woke up from the noise in the corridor - the cleaning lady was pounding on all the doors, driving out the guests. She didn’t rush to us - after all, we just stopped by, but still, we couldn’t sleep properly. Let me tell you about this feature of the hotel. I read about this feature in someone's review, but I did not suspect that everything was really so neglected, I thought the author was exaggerating. The room has a minibar, which stores all sorts of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, a package of cashews, and several chocolate bars, and a laminated bag with prices for these products is placed on top, as well as with a warning that it is strictly forbidden to bring your own drinks and products to the hotel, otherwise fine. And so every morning at ten o'clock a search began, something between a morning tour of the wards in a hospital and checking the rooms in a pioneer camp. Together with the cleaner, an uncle walked around the wards (sorry, rooms) with a notebook in which he apparently noted the amount of food eaten and drunk. At the same time, there is no “do not disturb” sign there, and it will not be possible to avoid shmon (sorry, cleaning). And therefore, every morning we started with hiding the sausage from the refrigerator in a suitcase. In the evening, after our return, the reverse process took place. However, perhaps we took the threat too seriously. Under someone's number they saw empty beer bottles in the morning. How it ended for their owners, I do not know. We didn't look for problems. Other than that the hotel is very nice. I will write a review about it separately.

So, after lying in half-sleep, disturbed by the noise from the corridor until about one o'clock, we decided to spend the time left until 15.00, for which the meeting with the hotel guide was scheduled, on a trip to Colva. On the way to the beach, which consisted of a palm alley, the territory of a small four-star hotel of the same owner as ours, and one and a half hundred meters along the sand, we found a tent of local business leaders Sasha and Grisha (as they call themselves), widely known in narrow circles, where exchanged at a good rate (61 rupees for $) weave. The guys are funny, good-natured, they speak Russian quite well. We went to the beach past two cafes with sun loungers, not even fully occupied by seals, and cheerfully moved south. By the way, it's really cool. A sober lifestyle did bear fruit, and my health after the flight was excellent. The weather was superb, just the way I like it - 30 degrees and not a single cloud. Humidity is moderate. It hadn't rained during our entire stay, and we didn't need to lock up our umbrella.

The water has already receded, leaving behind sand compacted like asphalt, on which rescuers calmly ride not only on bicycles, but even on such red jeeps, not at all risking getting stuck. I haven't said anything about the sea yet. However, what is there to say? Well the sea. In color, depth and beaches, it is very similar to ours, Azov. Only salty, and the power of the ocean is felt. It seems to be completely calm, and not weak such waves are formed near the shore, you gape - from behind, like a shandarahnet on the back of the neck! And the whole beach is full of pretty wide holes, up to 15 centimeters in diameter. I kept wondering, who dug them up? Until I saw crabs, quite decent sizes, that were hiding there. The outlines of the star also attracted attention, as if a child was playing with bees - this is a starfish buried in the sand in anticipation of the tide. Interesting!


Walked for about half an hour. By the abundance of people on the beach, we realized that we had come. The people are exclusively of Indian nationality, and everyone bathes in clothes. Strange, like not Arabs? Probably, they are afraid of getting burned : ))). I was glad that I chose a hotel not in Colva. And I was going to choose between Silver Sands and ours. Even tossed a coin. The coin did not disappoint. I was especially glad when I saw where this Silver Sands is located - right on a busy main street, where only the lazy do not horn, but there are none like that. True, a stone's throw from the beach, but swimming on this beach is simply impossible, you need to go to the side.

Since time was running out, we quickly found a liquor store, bought rum and porto, as well as pineapple and mango near the bus station, to have dinner in the room. Having quickly run along the main street, we galloped back to the hotel. Just in time to meet the guide. The guide Alina did not load us with excursions, gave us a price list with exorbitant prices, she began to talk about Colva, but we said that we already knew everything. They only asked where it was possible to refuel a motorcycle, in which case, to which she told terrible things. If, God forbid, a person is injured, he is given injections for rabies, firstly, and secondly, the owner of the bike will steal big money from you. We were inspired and decided to abandon this dubious undertaking, because in my life I drove only a bicycle, and even then in deep childhood, and my dear, although he drives a car from the age of 12, his eyesight has become completely poor, and on an unfamiliar busy highway, and even with left-hand traffic... Well, it, in short. That's how they parted.

Went to have lunch at a cafe. To the one on the right. In anticipation of the order lay down on a deck chair, looking into the sea. Attention was drawn to a strong splash far from the coast. She began to peer intently and saw a dolphin jumping high, high, to its full height, as in a dolphinarium. Class! But the show didn't last long. After jumping out a couple more times, he disappeared and never showed up again. After lunch, sausage until sunset on the beach. The sunset, by the way, is so-so, nothing special. In Sri Lanka they were much more luxurious. And after sunset at 18.00 we went to the hotel for dinner. Passing through the reception of a neighboring hotel, we saw a sign, like ours, with a ban on bringing food-booze, but it indicated a specific amount of the fine - 500 rupees.

Having settled down on the balcony, we slaughtered a pineapple and opened a bottle of port. For this drink, I read on the internet. Well, as I read it, they only wrote that, they say, there is such a drink in Goa. Well, I decided that this is something akin to port wine. But no! Nice, sweet, 14 degrees, incomprehensible taste and color. The bottle was painted with grapes, but not from grapes. For me, this drink was associated with green port wine from the same Election Day. The bottle we bought was different in shape and label from the minibar bottle. But from additional information about the drink, we could only find some vague mention of fig liqueur on one of the two labels. I do not know. But it's okay to drink. As for the rum "Old Monk". We bought it at home last year, and it cost quite a bit - 140 hryvnias. Here it cost about 2.5 dollars and tasted much better. By the way, the container was plastic, very convenient for transportation, akin to bottles made of dyutik. The pineapple was juicy, and the mango, on the contrary, was dry and tasteless, despite the yellow color.


The next day we wanted to explore the city of Margao, located 6 km. from Colva. After swimming in the sea and having breakfast, they collected yesterday's leftovers in a bag so as not to be convicted of illegally eating their own products. With great difficulty, they found where to throw it away - behind a nearby hotel, a cardboard box that acts as a trash can. Having reached Colva, we boarded a bus to Margao. From the story of Anetka-gan (which helped me to a large extent, despite the prescription), it followed that the ticket should cost around 10 rupees. So I gave the conductor a twenty. He said that the ticket cost 13, I rummaged through my bag and found 5 more. He did not pester me again. On the way out of Colva, I saw a fish market and made a notch in my brain. The bus did not follow directly, but through Benaulim, and throughout this stretch the conductor yelled “Margao, Margao” in a bad voice, stopped anywhere, picking up and dropping off passengers, who, however, were not so many. We reached Margao, and while driving to the bus station, I realized that there was absolutely nothing to catch here, and, despite the fact that it was already 10 o'clock, we decided to move on, to the capital of Goa - Panaji. Unloaded, began to look for the right platform. Found. The bus was already standing, but we were not completely sure that this was what we needed. While we were spinning around him, one of the locals pointed his finger at the end of the long queue at the cashier. I had to stand at the end, however, it moved quite quickly, and the departed bus was immediately replaced by the next one, in which we sat down, having paid 40 rupees for tickets. By the way, no one checked them either during landing or disembarking.

We drove for about an hour. Leaving the bus and poking around in different directions, we came to a wide bay. The fact that this is a bay, and not a river, was indicated by the presence of jellyfish. Walking along the embankment, we found the first white woman we met today (though not Russian), waiting for the ferry along with others. They asked her for directions to the center. In the center they found a Catholic cathedral. Having circled the streets more, and having found nothing more interesting, we returned to the embankment. On the way, they bought from an old woman who was selling some strange fruits from a newspaper on the sidewalk, which looked like potatoes. I asked is it sweet? Sweet. We didn't have water with us because we weren't going that far. Therefore, nothing is mine, they ate it like that. In appearance, it also resembled a kiwi, only not shaggy. And to taste - persimmon, but less juicy and less sweet, and the bones are exactly the same. Looking ahead, I will say that after that they did not spend the night in the toilet. However, dysentery and other delights have a rather long incubation period, and perhaps we still have a long way to go. : ))

On the opposite bank, I thought I saw a roof of bizarre outlines in the thickets. I decided that this was some kind of Hindu temple and really wanted to get to the other side. A bridge was visible in the distance. Let's go to that side. Accidentally looking over the parapet, I found a juicy picture: sitting on the shore, a certain comrade was scrubbing the anus with the help of some device (I didn’t consider it) with a frenzy, as if his whole future life depended on it. Having reached the foot of the bridge, we climbed it for a long time, and having climbed, we found that there is absolutely no pedestrian sidewalk. While we hesitated there, a car stopped, and its owner waved us invitingly. Well, we sat down. Asking if we speak English and, having received a negative answer, the owner asked where we were from? We said. He thought for a long time, then asked if we speak Russian? Yes of course! He was glad because he had little control of it. The dialogue is a little livelier.

About English. Remembering my last year's blunders http://blogs. turpravda. ua/Iren48/95576.html, I decided to improve. Just in our institution they organized a free educational program twice a week for one pair, though not from scratch. The rest of the free students at school taught him, unlike me. The senile brain boiled, creaked, violently resisting taking in at least something. Free gigabytes have long ended. True, my girlfriend complained of the same symptoms and tried her best to mow down. But I stubbornly attended classes, as a result of which I replenished my meager vocabulary with a couple of dozen new words and, at the very least, learned how to build the simplest phrases. Oh, I should have done this when I was young!


Well, the driver asks, where were we actually going? I said that I would like to see the temple. And he says that the temple remained on the other side. So we've already seen it! I am not interested in Catholic churches. At least not here. I point in the direction of the visible roof among the thickets. He says that this is not a temple, but some kind of administrative building. Damn, what about old Goa, for example? He says it's the other way. I didn't catch myself in time and asked how much we owe him for the fare. He replied that he didn't need anything. And he goes, in fact, to Calangute. I asked if there were buses from there. Of course they do! Well then let's move on! The guy turns out to be a lawyer, so offering him money was really ridiculous. And he made me laugh, mistaking me for a student. In general, having a nice conversation, we arrived in North Goa in Calangute. Having shown where the beach and the bus stop were, our benefactor left, and we went towards the beach. True, we did not have bathing accessories with us, because, as you remember, we were only going to Margao. The settlement turned out to be larger than Kolva with a mass of shops. Having reached the beach, we were horrified by the number of locals. Compared to Calangute, Colva is just a desert. Even if I had a swimsuit, I would not go swimming. With so many native men, I, in my thongs, would feel, to put it mildly, not at ease. And therefore, having wet our legs, we went to have lunch at the first cafe we ​ ​ came across, from whose sign it was clear that it had its own toilet (wow! ) - a considerable distance had been covered, there was no swimsuit, the village was crowded, and the option “You are everywhere” did not roll. In the cafe, we were immediately brought a tray with fresh marine life, but we rejected it. Prices there, by the way, were much higher than on our beach. And they say that the south is expensive. I do not know. Ordered some fish on duty from the menu for 300 rupees. There was not a lot of fish, but a lot of rice, so one serving for two was enough for us. Having visited the toilet (not the worst seen, but still sad), we moved back. On the way, we browsed the local range of goods, but did not buy anything except a coconut for me and a beer for my boyfriend.

Return journey by buses Calangute-Panaji, Panaji-Margao, Margao-Colva. It was getting dark… Having bought a pack of pineapple juice and fruits on the way, we finally got to the hotel. We needed pineapple juice to make a kind of pina colada. According to the recipe, there still relies on Malibu, but they did without it, and it turned out quite tasty and similar to the original. We drank two full glasses of a drink of normal proportion, but then there was little juice left, and the last half a glass we drank the drink "Good night, kids", thus sucking in 0.75 rum (43 °) in an hour with a little.

The morning, as you know, was not very good. The head is slightly bo-bo. But for today we had a forced march to the north (as you know, the best cure for a hangover according to Kevin Costner). After breakfast, after hiding the sausage and eliminating the evidence, about eight o'clock we moved along the beach towards the peninsula, on which, according to the map, the city of Vasco da Gama is located. There was a full moon, so the tides reached 60 meters. Large stretches of the beaches were completely deserted, although the lifeguards were still 200-300 meters away. Who are they saving? The sea, in principle, is quite safe. But people have jobs. We met several cafes with the original names "At Kolya's", "At Uncle Kolya's", and to top it all off, "A real cafe at Uncle Kolya's". The previous ones were apparently fake. Remove palm trees - well, our Belosarayskaya spit! The similarities were added by our true still life seen in one place - a bedding, an umbrella, circles-mattresses, mothers and fathers with beer tummies and a bunch of kids. There were also differences. There are many eagles soaring and sitting on the sand. And the complete absence of seagulls. Strange, incomprehensible. The sea is there, the fish is there, but there are no seagulls! After a two-hour journey, on a completely deserted beach, we found the missing element - seagulls. There were just a myriad of them there, more than we have in the so-called Meotida Reserve.

Due to the high humidity, the horizon was poorly visible, but when we got closer and the peninsula was already visible, in the haze I began to see some fortress walls and towers, which, having acquired a slightly clearer outline, then began to seem like something cosmic. Coming even closer, they were very disappointed - it was an ordinary industrial landscape. Then they saw on the map that it was a chemical plant. We turned back. We walked for a total of 5 hours. They waved, I think, 12 kilometers in one direction. Back at the hotel, changed and went to Colva to stock up on dinner. We found another wine boutique, where the saleswoman recommended to us, instead of the old monk, some no less old sailor. This rum cost even less than a monk - only 120 rupees ($2). And also porto, already the third variety, which cost 100 rupees. And in the previous store they sold it to us for 150. We had to watch it! As it turned out, fixed prices are stamped on alcohol. In addition, we were offered a local whiskey of cool design and in a tube for 250 rupees, and another - 12 years old for 450. We bought the cheaper one. The rum was no different in taste from the "Old Monk", and what's the catch, I did not understand. The whiskey was pretty decent too. By the way, their wine boutiques are very inconveniently arranged. In their bowels, one could certainly find a lot of delicious things, but there is no review, and even more so there are no price tags. By the way, it turned out that in nature there is an analogue of locally produced Malibu, though quite expensive - 500 rupees.


On the way to the hotel we went to a cafe, on the sign of which there was free Wi-Fi. We decided to goof off a little and ordered tiger prawns. They were brought to us fresh, along with other seafood, for us to choose. Asking what it would cost, they found out - 500 rupees for a dozen. The boy asked how many servings we need. Of course, I ordered one. But for some reason they brought us 2. I didn’t scandalize, it was too painful for the boy to be modest and pleasant, and I don’t know how. I had to get rid of the trickster and plus fresh for me, and beer for my dear. I thought we couldn’t handle it, and I’d have to ask to wrap it up “for the dog”, but somehow we strained ourselves and shoved it into ourselves. Didn't get much pleasure. For some reason, they stuffed shrimp with garlic. Original! Wi-Fi was - hug and cry, Skype was only able to send messages. However, as it turned out, he was in many cafes on the coast, but of the same quality. I went to my city website - it would be better not to go, it only spoiled my mood.

In the evening we had supper with sausage, leftover bread, rum, and some kind of fruit. The fruits were green with soft spines. Having broken them and tried them, they were not particularly impressed - there was not much to eat, little pulp, a lot of bones. The taste is vaguely reminiscent of figs. Same song with passion fruit. We decided not to experiment anymore, but there are familiar and relatively cheap bananas, pineapples and tangerines. However, we did not see anything else exotic, except for the dragon's eye, which cost 200! rupees apiece and which, as we were later explained, was brought from Thailand. And it was not the season for mangoes, so they were not tasty. I preferred the fresh ones. And I ate papaya last year, and here we bought it only once.

The next day we decided to take a break and not walk far. But the bread ran out, and we didn’t see it for sale anywhere. They pestered with this question to the neighbors - the young from Moscow. They bulged their eyes at us - they say, why do you need it, you can eat in a cafe, everything is very cheap! (Well, it's up to someone. Everything in this world is relative. ) We politely explained to them that the sausage was disappearing. Then they tensed up and remembered that they had seen a boy preparing some food on a mobile stove, something like buns, but they also did not see ordinary bread. Hindus don't eat it! To which I objected that the bread for toast, which is served to us for breakfast, they take somewhere. Well, we understood about the buns, if anything, they will come down too. In the morning, before breakfast, we rushed to Colva, to the previously seen fish market. Bought tiger prawns from my aunt. 19 pieces cost us 200 rupees, I really did not try to bargain. Then we were told that this is the normal price. We also found a shop that, miraculously, had sandwich bread just like our breakfast toast. The locals bought milk in bags there. In general, there is trouble with grocery stores.

We returned to the hotel through the canteen, where we had breakfast with the same scrambled eggs. Arriving in the room, cooked shrimp. For this purpose, we specially brought a boiler and a small aluminum camping pot. Boiled in tap water. By the way, we also brushed our teeth with ordinary water. Not fatal. And the time of the shmona has almost arrived. So we opened all the windows, turned on the air conditioner and the fan at full speed, creating a draft that blew out the smell of boiled shrimp. We made it on time. We had just packed our bags for the beach when the delegation arrived. But everything was already covered up. On the beach, we took the sunbeds of the left cafe. Having waited for a little bit of hunger and ordered fresh juice in a cafe for me and beer for my dear, they made a disgusting mess. Fresh, of course, is not the best drink for shrimp, but for some reason I have not been drinking beer for three months (I hope this is temporary). From the shrimp leftovers, which we, as an entertainment, began to feed a flock of crows, they grabbed them so cool right on the fly! By the way, about living things. We assumed that here, like Sri Lanka, there would be a lot of chipmunks, and we took seeds for them. But, alas, I saw chipmunks only a couple of times on a palm tree from the balcony, and they were not fed at all, so the seeds were partially eaten, partially left instead of a tip, and partially brought home. Chocolates didn't work either. I also left one instead of a tip, the rest returned to their homeland. And I gave caramels to poor children. There are a lot of dogs, good-natured, unsavory, but among them I met lichens. On the beach I saw dead sea snakes of a meter length, apparently caught in nets, a small (20 centimeters in diameter) dead sea stingray. There are a lot of cows (not a lot of cakes, never got into trouble) and a complete absence of cats (I saw no more than a dozen in different parts of the country, and even then briefly).


The next day there was another forced march, this time to the south. We left again at eight. This time we had to walk no less than 20 kilometers to Cavelossim, but, judging by the map, it was possible to go back by bus from there. Again, all the same boring sandy beaches. The only difference was the color of the sand. White, yellowish, reddish, blackish, with a golden sheen... The whitest sand, however, is on our beach. We passed Benaulim, Varka. Closer to Cavelossim, some hills loomed on the horizon, the landscape became more cheerful. At the end of our journey, we ran into a fairly wide river that flowed into the sea. On the other side were rocks overgrown with jungle. It’s beautiful, but we had to go there by boat, and this was no longer part of our plans. It was already one in the afternoon, and it was time to eat. We went back a little and chose a cafe. The guy (not the manager, not the owner) asked what hotel we were from. We told where we are from. Impressed! Having quenched his hunger and thirst, they asked him where the bus stop was. Passing by a hefty hotel behind a tall fence, we went out onto the road, where we got on the bus next to Margao, because, as we found out from the same guy, there are no buses to Colva. The conductor charged us 20 rupees each. The bus ran parallel to the coast for some time, but then decided to turn inland, and I asked the conductor how far it was to Colva (it turned out to be only 6 km), I decided it was better to get out and walk along the beach than ride to Margao, and then to Colva. Of course, no one returned the price difference to us, and we did not ask.

On one of our visits to Kolva, we were handed a leaflet from one of the local travel agencies "Dream" on the street. The prices there were, although sometimes 2 times lower than tour operators, but still outrageously high, compared, for example, with Turkish ones. Luckily, we did not throw away the booklet, but after flipping through it at our leisure, we decided to splurge on one excursion. The most popular and relatively cheap there is a trip to the waterfall. But we have seen plenty of waterfalls in our lives, so we chose another one - the temples of ancient India. This was really interesting to me. Karma, dharma, mudras, reincarnation - at one time I was fond of all sorts of different esotericism. In the booklet, all prices were carefully crossed out and new ones were handwritten. This tour, for example, cost $95 per person. But the tour operator had a similar one for 150, so we decided to take it on the street. On the way we went to another agency to inquire about their prices. There were also 95. Let's go to the Dream. There was a poster at the entrance with old prices and our tour cost 70. We were glad that we saved a whole fifty dollars and bought from them. As the guide of this company, a very nice girl from Moscow, Marina, later told us, the agencies agreed to raise prices. But then Mechta decided that it was unprofitable for her and dumped it.

Marina left in Varka (she rents accommodation there), and we - in Colva (we did not go to the hotel). After about fifteen minutes, they remembered that they had forgotten the phones in the car, put in a pocket on the door. We ran to the agency, but the car, as it turned out, had already left to rest, on the occasion of Sunday. We agreed to pick them up tomorrow. While we were there, a skinned girl with a bandaged leg came in. I wondered if she had fallen off the bike? That is exactly what happened to her. It's good that we didn't get involved in this adventure! And the local aunts are already running! Moreover, it is so interesting to observe how the back of them sit sideways, practically not holding on, and even managing to hold the cub with one hand. I would have fallen off a long time ago!

We did a little shopping, bought some junk, Himalayan cosmetics. I say to my dear: “I’ll come home and put on a new thing for work” (such a cute sarafan). And he says: “No, they won’t understand! ” Semyon Semyonitch! I again forgot that somewhere there could be a cold! We drank fresh juice from sugar cane. The cooking process is quite interesting. The boy opened a hole that activated the press, squeezed juice, squeezed lime into it, and then, scooping up ice with his hand and pouring it into a strainer, strained the resulting drink through it. Looking at each other, we drank it anyway. The taste, by the way, is awesome, not like anything we have drunk before. But people who are squeamish or have weak stomachs should pay attention to this.


When we were looking for a bus to Panaji in Margao, I noticed that there was a bus to Palolem. This is, according to rumors, a beautiful beach, an excursion to which costs about 45 dollars. Of course, we decided to go there by bus. We went out, as usual, after a full breakfast, about eight. They got on the bus. But, if last time we managed to get to Margao relatively quickly, now we, apparently, got into rush hour. The bus braked every five meters, stuffing people to capacity. The journey of ten kilometers took us 45 minutes. And on the outskirts of Benaulim, we had the pleasure of watching hotel-like laundry being dried: white towels were hung on a rope right by the road, and the sheets were drying right on the grass. Cool!

Having examined the local shops, and even bought something, at 16.00 we left back in the same way. This time we were charged 80 rupees for the fare. So I never found out the true cost of the fare. And again we got into rush hour in Margao. We drove to Colva like turtles in a crowded bus, by the way, in the same one as in the morning. Maybe it was a feature of this carrier? But this time he was also without a conductor and wasted his time on paying more. It was already dark when we, tired but satisfied, came to the agency for our phones. And they still haven't arrived! Yoper ballet! Then the owner suggested that we take a walk while he hit the road somewhere in the car. Well, we walked to a nearby wine boutique and a fruit stand. We returned to the agency, comfortably settled down on a leather sofa, and, taking advantage of the fact that the Russian barker, left by the Indian on the farm, went out to smoke, we started our usual alcohol dinner, without waiting for the arrival at the hotel. Finally, our phones were brought, and we went home. On the way we met our yesterday's companions, told where we were. They were a little offended with us, because Marina offered to go to Palolem instead of Om, declared in the program, but we had already planned, and therefore opposed. That's the kind of pigs we are. Yes, and forgot to ask about the health of the girl. I couldn't even remember if she was with them. Hope everything is ok. The women did not look sad.

The next, and also the last of the days, was devoted, in fact, to the sea and the sun. In the afternoon we went to Colva to spend our last rupees. Pre-paid the hotel bill of 180 rupees for two five-liter water. In order not to carry gravity from Kolva, we decided to use them. There was a suspicion that we would be credited with drinking some bottle of whiskey there for 110 rupees, which was not available at check-in, but which was in the price list. But everything worked out. Not assigned. The remaining rupees were spent on pineapples and rum. Before that, I read on the Internet that the norm for importing strong alcoholic beverages into Ukraine is only a liter per nose. In Russia, for example, according to various sources, you can import either 2 or 3 liters. Fearing problems at customs, we bought 2 bottles of 0.75 and one 0.5. The saleswoman, instead of the “Old Sailor” already known to us, sniffed some kind of “Black Horse”, said that it was also good rum, and also for 120 rupees. We, not expecting a dirty trick (where is it cheaper? ), We took it without looking. Already at the hotel they considered the price on the label - 80-something rupees. I blew it, bitch! We have not opened it yet, I can not say anything about its taste. And we also decided, finally, to try the local moonshine “feni”, sometimes made from cashew or coconut. The saleswoman said that cashews taste better. It cost 200 rupees for 0.75. We came to the hotel, tried it - a rare muck. True, soft. It would be better to take Roma. Not even half drunk, we decided to take a chance and shove it into the luggage too (don't pour it out).

Our flight was at 4:45. We were picked up at one in the morning, so we managed to get some sleep. There was a queue in front of the airport. At the airport too. Standing in line, I saw several shabby and bandaged guys - victims of motorcycles. A girl of about five years old, standing behind us, sang the “March of the Aviators” - higher and higher and higher... Never mind the choice! Unfortunately, there was no cheap Goan rum on the dutik. Well, that's to be expected. On it was written: only for sale in Goa. And in Colombo last year, Sri Lankan rum was sold on a dutik, though it cost 12 dollars. : ( Everything went smoothly in Boryspil, no one clung to a drop of excess alcohol in the luggage.


Well, what can I say. I think you understood that I didn’t experience any special enthusiasm, Goa didn’t hook me. But I didn't have any bad moments either. Well, except for garbage, of course. But it was not he himself that annoyed me, but the stench of his burning. I really appreciate the fresh air living in an industrial region. Therefore, I can breathe any muck at home. It was interesting, new, exotic. Compare Sri Lanka and Goa? No, I can't, they are different, despite the obvious similarity. Will I come again? Unlikely. We squeezed out of this trip, as I think, the maximum. Well, I haven't seen the Taj Mahal. There are many more beautiful places in the world. The whole thing rests on finances, and if only this idiotic war ends! Yes, we spent on the trip, including the tour and shopping, only 400 dollars (not including the road to and from Kyiv)

Upon arrival at the station, having bought tickets, we went to have dinner at Puzata Hata. Here's where I broke off. I got borscht, vinaigrette, lamb chops and a large glass of kanpooot. And paid for it all 50 UAH. At the old dollar rate (13) - this is 200 rupees. I don’t know what I would eat on them in India and get so much pleasure! Shrimps are shrimp, but borscht is better!

I was very "pleased" upon arrival with the new exchange rate. It’s good that we didn’t succumb to the temptation to strum bucks (we took it with a large margin). But the trip did me good. She returned much more calm, peaceful, one might say, and even this trouble did not upset me much.

And one last joke. Being attacked by Kiev taxi drivers at the airport and train station, she habitually answered them: “No, thank you! ”

Thank you for your attention!

Translated automatically from Russian. View original
To add or remove photos in a story, go to album of this story
Закат на Гоа
В ожидании улова
Панаджи
Панаджи
Панаджи
Панаджи
Пляж Калангут
В Калангуте
Прилив
Арол
в этих кущерях нас искусали какие-то мухи, слава богу, без последствий, остались только багровые пятнышки с дырочкой посередине, но не чесались
Арол
чайки
лодка в кустах
химзавод
жажда
морская звезда в ожидании прилива
сладкая парочка на болоте возле отеля
Процесс приготовления фреша из сахарного тростника
слева направо - порто, ром
собачки, вороны и цапли дружно подъедают мелкую рыбку в сетях
импровизированный обед из тигровых креветок
собачка, видимо, съела что-то остренькое
прилив
жертвы отлива, или сетей, или еще чего-нибудь
река за Кавеллосимом
река за Кавелоссимом
Наверное это икра медузы :))
Баньян
спасательная доска
Джип спасателей
Отлив
Болотце рядом с отелем
Храм в Мурдешваре
Богиня Кали (справа)
Бог Ганеша
Башня-гопура в Мурдешваре
Башня-гопура
Статуя Шивы (37,5 м)
Храм в Мурдешваре
Шива (вид с башни)
Пляж Ом
Пляж Ом
Пляж между Беталбатимом и Колвой
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
Палолем
вариант жилья на Палолеме
пляжик, следующий за Палолемом (на юг)
Палолем
вариант жилья на Палолеме
вариант жилья на Палолеме
Палолем
рыбаки
местная свиноматка
закат на Гоа
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