Goa

A nine-hour train journey brought me back Goa for the first time in a year and a half. The train itself was interesting. I was in a berth with 6 pharmaceutical sales reps from Andhra Pradesh, who had already been on the train since the previous night. It was fascinating watching them get off at each stop where they would go and gather a collection of parcels, jars and packets which they somehow constructed into a delicous looking meal. When I tried it the only thing I could find that vaguely resembled food was a packet of biscuits!

After bidding them farewell I jumped in yet another rickshaw and headed 4km for Benaulim, the same small village where I spent 2 weeks in 2005. It hasn't changed much, except for the addition of a few more beach shacks and a Cafe Coffee Day (the Indian equivalent to Starbucks). I found a lovely room in a guesthouse for only Rs 250 a night. After a quick shower I headed down to a beach shack for a much needed cold beer. Here I met 2 fellow backpackers (something of a rareity in this charter tour heartland), Andy das Englander living in Berlin, and Steff, from Holland.

I spent three days with these guys and we had a fine old time downing Kingfishers on the beach in the evenings. The third night stood out more than most. We were sitting in our 'local' when an old man with a guitar gave us a flyer for live music by 'Kenny' that evening. He assured us he was Kenny and would be playing, however when we arrived there was some kind of crooning, Robbie Williams wannabe (and when you're not even as good as him you really are bad). Steff was not happy and went up to the waiting staff asking where 'Kenny' was. They pointed to the young guy on the stage, so he clarified it by asking for 'the Kenny who sings but also gives out flyers'. Once they'd found him Steff went on to inform them we'd come to see him and he should be playing instead! We laughed and didn't actually expect this to happen, but after about 5 minutes the singer sounded a bit upset and announced that from now on the evening would be an unplugged acoustic set! With this his music stopped and our preferred 'Kenny' appeared with his guitar and came over to our table to play to us! He turned out to be called Louis and was very good on the guitar, playing a load of old songs. He told us all about his philosophy on life and what Benaulim was like in 1972 when he first came here. He also told us of his love for Cliff Richard because he is a 'bachelor boy; like himself and played us a couple of his hits from the fifties!

That was my goodbye to Benaulim and I think perhaps twice is enough now so it may well be a permanent one. The next day I headed 75 km to Arambol, one of the northernmost points in Goa. It's a beautiful little place. Just a few beach shacks and hippy hang outs. Very cheap too, I finally found the holy grail of a Rs 150 room - less than 2 quid a night. I spent 5 nights in Arambol, but the best was probably the one I spent with 2 nurses from London. I thought my 3 days in Benaulim had been a bit of a laddish booze up but these 2 put those nights to shame. We consumed enough vodka to knock out a ship full of Russian sailors and partied until 4 am. It was fortunate that the next days 'schedule' involved nothing more taxing than staying horizontal on the beach.

After a day of rest I headed back down south to the airport and boarded my flight to Mumbai (Bombay), the last leg of my Indian tour of duty.