30th September 2014 – Goa, India
Kak Dela. There is a little secret I have to tell you.One Malyshka is hiding the light of the day,And locked it in slender lines of eyebrows, and eyes.Maybe in Goa, I will find it again. Or so they say.
I had enough of Baga for the last 2 nights. I realized it yesterday evening, when I ended up dancing with the crowds – only a little bit – when the bollywood blockbusters started to pierce my eardrums. The last time I was here was 10 years ago, and surprisingly, I had done the same thing, albeit a lot more wilder. I am happy to know that the Indian in me hasn’t died. Not quite.
So, after breakfast in the Fort Aguada area, I took the bike and proceeded to another beach. Northern Goa promised me exclusivity, but I had tried my luck here with beaches like Morjim and Asvem on the first day, and found them rather too exclusive, or even deserted. But there was one beach on the far north, which I hadn’t checked out yet.
Arambol was almost at the northern border of Goa, which was convenient for me, because I could ride out to Mumbai a little bit more easier. Given than Goa to Mumbai was already a 600 KM ride, the fact that I would start from the northern end of Goa, reduced this to 560 or so.
But the moment I entered Arambol, I was in for a surprise. Or rather, my ears were in for a surprise. All around me, I heard words like Privet, Kak dela, and spasibo. Oh, have I told you? Ya govoryu po-russki chut-chut. Or, I speak a little Russian, thanks to a darling in Singapore, and her friends who taught me both the romantic and the vulgar side of Russian. And this little seaside village had more Russians than Indians! They were everywhere, and some of them have been living here for ages!!
Cliched as it may sound, I sat down at the first bar to order Vodka. Then, the Indian in me changed his mind, and chose Old monk rum and royal challenge whiskey. Izvini, kurochka!