Day 18; on reflection

We leave Goa at 4.00am - ish.  Given the reports of fog at Heathrow I’ve no idea when we’ll land.  Or where.

I write this during the flight.  An opportunity to look down as well as back.

I don’t think it would have occurred to us to holiday in Goa if Dan did not live here.  It’s a beautiful place, but can be ‘challenging’.  At this time of year it’s hot in the daytime - between 10.00am and 4.00pm - so best spent indoors, in a pool, or both.  
V’s mum says it’s beautiful during the monsoon and her favourite time.  Elvis the baker says much the same. But - there’s always a ‘but’ - the main beaches are closed - the sea come right up to the road.  The bars and restaurants are not just closed - they’re actually dismantled and rebuilt once the monsoon is over.

During that period the grass in Dan’s garden grows to about 6’ high.  So the dogs and THE CAT are confined to the veranda.  Worst of all in my view is the damage it does to guitars.  Elvis the baker tells me that he has his guitars completely rebuilt every four years or so.

Driving here is also ….challenging.  One of Dan’s taxi driver friends comes to pick us up in his battered old Fiat Panda.  I pull at the rear seat belt, but it’s frayed and hanging by a thread.  He smiles.  A knowing sort of smile, which seems to say “don’t worry.  It doesn’t matter.  I’m not wearing mine either”.   You just have to go with it. 

The only thing you can do as a passenger, is to focus on the plastic deity (Christian or Hindu) on the dashboard or close your eyes.  This not to say that everyone’s a bad driver; far from it.  They’re all very good drivers. Somehow they manage to avoid colliding.  It’s us who are bad passengers.

The people are generous and kind. The only time we ever get any hassle is from the tourist/souvenir shops.  And we’ve been well trained - a friendly “no thank you” is all it takes.

There are lots of Indian families at the hotel over the Christmas period. We watch as their children play in and around the pool. Their behaviour is universal - the crying because big brother splashed little brother, the playfulness, the showing off - it could be anywhere in the world.

If you ever need reminding that we are all the same, regardless of race, creed or colour, come and sit beside a hotel pool in Goa at Christmas.


PS; I took the photo during a stopover in Qatar.  Anniemay stuck her head in a fancy piece of artwork in the airport.  We seem to have free wifi so I’m going to try and post this from about 34,000 feet in the air. Which will be a first for me.

PPS; the extra is a blip snap with Anniemay.