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Friday, August 2, 2013

Shiroda to Panaji at 10:30 AM

The morning was extremely grey. In typical monsoon fashion, the rains had come and gone a few times since day break. We bumped over potholes and weaved between pools of water during the 4 km ride from Silver Sands "Resort" on Shiroda beach to the bus stop near the market in town. The passengers largely consisted of school girls waiting for their bus to arrive. I wondered, are there no boys in Shiroda? Well, there must be. In that case, do they not go to school? A look around revealed that the boys were waiting across the street, under trees and in doorways of stores that had not yet opened.



The bus stop is a dilapidated building. The windows at the back are open, shutters non-existent. A sudden sharp shower sent everyone near the windows scurrying for cover, yours truly included, massing towards the middle of the room. Many girls got soaked, in spite of their brave attempts to keep the rain away by opening up umbrellas. It appears like the camera did not get spared, either. 



The fun thing about travelling in slightly rural places in India is that even a little trip across a state border feels like a different country. I could not decipher the board in which the bus routes and timings were listed, and could barely communicate with the khaki-clad officials in the bus stop. I finally learnt that the bus to Panaji would leave at 10:30 AM. 




Red coloured Maharashtra State buses came by. As many umbrellas as people tried to get on and off the bus, all at the same time. I would have to hop aboard, try to, I mean, one of these buses to Sawantwadi town, in case my blue coloured Goa transport corporation bus did not make it.




My blue coloured Goa bus finally arrived, quite punctual, only a few minutes late, which was quite commendable, given the state of the roads and the rains. About 20 people tried to get off, and about 50 people tried to get on, with about 70 umbrellas and 70 bags, big and small, with traffic flowing simultaneously through the narrow door in both directions. It was all sorted out soon enough, and we were on our way, weaving down mountain roads. I got a ring side view from the second row seat. The passenger in front of me had the privilege of having the mesh to hold on to for support.



We crossed the newly built bridge to Goa. Soon enough, I realized in a flash that I had missed something during the past week. My levels of ignorance had reached abysmal depths. I had not been informed about the latest choices in real estate, clothing and jewelry. Ah, yes, we were back in Goa..!! 


The River Mandovi reminded me about how heavy the monsoons had been over two months.



Panaji Bus Stop was one grand puddle after another. A VTOL propulsion device would have been rather more appropriate for these conditions.




I quickly made my way to the part of the bus stop from where the buses to Madgaon leave. Shiroda to Panaji Rs 45. Panaji to Madgaon Rs 30 (non-stop!). 



Nanutel in Madgaon, about 10 minutes from the bus stop, was what the doctor ordered. I mean, what the Memsahib ordered, after my wanderings around villages and deserted beaches. The worry levels had reached sky high. So, this was my attempt to signal that all is well. You need to maintain a balance, after all. 



Madgaon Park is a pleasant place, quite well maintained.



By then it was time for the customary Fish grill and Goan Masala Fish Curry rice lunch. 




I wondered whether Dr Vas and Dr Das are brothers, perhaps.



All play and no work makes Jack a dull boy, is what I was taught in school. So, time for some work, which was a guest lecture at the Management Institute in Madgaon.



The building is a lovely Heritage Building, preserved extremely well. 



Next stop Panaji, another express non-stop bus ride from Madgaon. Panaji is a very pleasant city to stroll around. Tree lined streets are found almost everywhere.



Immaculately maintained statues look down at you from way up there.




Quaint, narrow streets that you could tell used to be brightly coloured once upon a time invite you to come by and take a peek. Of course, goes without saying, you can stay as long as you wish. Nobody is likely to ask to leave, or even to ask you what you are doing there.



Several relics from the past stare at you, some restored, some not quite so.



I wondered whether these buildings would pass any self-respecting building standards compliance tests.



The Ribander area by the River Mandovi, mid way between Panaji and Old Goa, was on my agenda. Wonderful views, with the Dr Salim Ali Bird Sanctuary across the broad river.



The Santa Casa de Misericordia was known as the Holy House of Charity. Yet another name was the Royal Portuguese Hospital, reputed to be Asia's first hospital. The building is a grand old heritage structure, several centuries old, now the city campus of the Goa Institute of Management.



This was the venue of my second 'work' engagement. 



The interiors are beautiful, with high ceilings, naturally cool.



Panjim is a lovely city to walk around, narrow shady lanes and old structures that you suddenly happen upon, silently and maybe helplessly stating that it was all so pleasant and 'susegad' back then.



Further west from the Court area lies the impressive "Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception Church", completed in 1540.




The plant covered stairways lend it a quiet, mysterious air.



I wonder what HE must be thinking about, looking down at the cacophony below.


My hotel in Panaji was the Goa Tourism Department Residency, a walk in choice, very well located right in the midst of all the quiet, old streets and right opposite the river. .


Along the river, several people sat patiently for hours, fishing rods in hand. In the background are the jettys leading to the Casinos where another set of people would fish for something else all night.



I continued my wanderings. Lime anyone? Fresh lime, maybe?



This is the Government Irrigation Department Office. With monsoons like this, who needs an Irrigation department? You can tell, looking at the building. The officials must have gone home two months ago.



It is reported that the Portugese left in a great hurry in 1961. It appears as if they locked the City Bar and took the key with them.



The owner of this establishment was in such a hurry that while he must have locked the door, but probably forgot to take the key with him. Mr Carvalho appears to have taken over, and continues to conduct typewriting classes and repair old typewriters. We have an ancient one lying at home. I should remember to bring it over next time.



The old City Bar being closed, I found another watering hole nearby.



Quite upmarket, the furniture is fashioned out of old casks.



A convenient vantage point to watch the city go by.



Another piece of history near the Court.




Sao Tome Chapel.



The tree covered and leaf strewn Panaji General Post Office next to the Chapel, where tobacco used to be traded centuries earlier.



The view from my hotel is remarkable, with the street nearby and the Mandovi Bridge in the distance. Room with a view.



The Day-Fishermen have gone home and the Night-Fishermen have appeared. They are ferried over in colourful, party boats to the Casinos docked mid river.  It's now their turn to try their luck.



Massive signage entices gullible folks. One sign even claims 'where winning is a habit'. Indeed! 



My quest was, however, for a different kind of Fish. Fish Land was conveniently located almost next door to Hotel Panaji Residency.  




I tried out the Seer Fish Tawa Fry. It was extremely yummy. 



Fish Land had won themselves a repeat customer! I went  back several times. Fish Curry Rice was served with complimentary Tawa Fry. Where eating is a habit.



Not to be missed, in stark contrast to Fish Land, is the 'Pure Veg' Vihar restaurant, ideal for a quick breakfast before you start the day. They open at 7 AM.



Time to head off to Calangute now, the venue of our school's Old Boys' reunion at the Chalston Hotel. We passed the tall Mãe de Deus (Our Lady Mother of God) Church in Saligao.



Soon enough, it started raining. I took shelter under a huge tree by St Alex Church. Funnily enough, I had stood under the same tree to shield myself from the rain during my visit during the monsoons in August 2011.   




The rain eased up, and the familiar sight of green fields once again sped by.



It was now time to change gears for Baga, and our school Old Boys' reunion in Calangute.

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Thursday, August 1, 2013

Redi Red and Shiroda White Sand Beach

Travelling south from Vengurla, the road passes through lush green countryside.



I stopped awhile to admire the sound of the 'waves'.



My plan was to meander down to Redi, close to the border with Goa, come back north and find a place to stay in the Shiroda area.


The peace of the afternoon is suddenly broken by grunting and thrashing of hooves on the grass. There is a bull fight going on, this one is between bulls, not about man spearing bulls.



Somebody seems to have forgotten their auto-richshaw in the foliage.



The area is punctuated with several lakes, all reflecting the sombre grey of the clouds overhead.



We passed several little temples.



The condition of the road was fairly poor at times, very slushy and brown,which seems to be the predominant colour of the soil in this region.



The cliffs of Redi are an impressive sight. The hills around are a good vantage point.



The winds were heavy, and the palm trees seemed to agree, all struggling to stay up, leaves bending to the might of the Wind God.



Another God, the famed Redi Ganesh, sits nearby. Ladies sell flowers and fruits outside the temple. The temple is in the middle of a makeover.



One of the workers takes the opportunity to cool off, presumably after a hard morning's work.



The connection between the red soil and the poor state of the roads around the Redi cliffs area dawned on me on the way. Tucked away behind every turn in the road were dump trucks. Had I counted, I would likely have ended up with hundreds, all silently parked in the Redi area.


Trucks were parked all over the dense undergrowth. There was a yard where it looked like old trucks were sent to die.


I wonder what the temples would have to say about the mess outside.



Shiroda is not too far away from Redi. That's where I hoped to find a place to stay the night. The beach, I had read, is very pretty.


By then, it was time for a quick, delicious Malvani lunch.


Local folks pointed the way towards the beach. The foliage got very dense as we went along, and the sea was visible soon enough.





Silver Sands Beach Resort appeared out of the undergrowth, as if by magic. 




It was then time to say Bye to Sanjay and his auto-rickshaw. He would head back to Nivati while I would be finding my way to Shiroda, and then Goa soon.



The beach was unexpectedly pleasant. Stretches of white sand beach, with the sound of water that reminded me of South Goa. Waves that seemed to float in, with a constant, low key roar, rather than the periodic gigantic crash of large waves. 


Fishermen struggled with their little nets. While the sea seemed deceptively gentle from the safety of the beach, it must have been a like a constantly changing beast within. 



Well, not much luck here too, this time.



The beach stretched several kilometres in either direction.




Redi Beach was located way down towards the south.



Shiroda reminded me uncannily of Baga (Goa) in the early 1980s. Clean beach, barely any people, creepers and trees that manage to live in sandy environments, and a sense of peace.



Fishermen were busy getting their boats ready, they were probably getting set for a fishing trip sometime soon.




A helpful notice on the beach.





The weather was extremely unpredictable. Sudden showers alternated with quiet periods. The sun even managed to peer out from behind the clouds on one occasion.



The view of the sea from the little sitting area was very convenient to stare at the sea for hours, and getting out for walks every now and then.



The sun sets behind the clouds, and it gently gets darker.



Dinner was Malvani dinner platter with Seafood in the dining area. The metal plate reflected the light of a compact fluorescent lamp.



My hut was one of a few. This time, however, I was not the only one in the 'resort'.  A couple more huts were occupied.



The structure did enough to keep the rain away. You were guaranteed of fresh air, with so many openings all around. Hot water in a bucket was available on request, but I did not feel the need for it. The temperature of the water in the shower was quite comfortable. 



The 'kitchen hut' is quite clean and well laid out inside.



It's time to say bye to my Baga beach of the 1980s, with the skies threatening to open up any time.



Those are real grey clouds out there, I thought, wondering whether it would be a wet day ahead. I hoped the clouds would pass by soon and not disrupt my travel plans.



A cross silently stood guard by the beach at Silver Sands, like it has perhaps done for centuries. I made some tentative plans for the morning.



I needed to find my way to Shiroda very soon. The staff told me that the bus to Panaji leaves from the Shiroda Bus Stop at 10:00 AM. If that does not work, for whatever reason, I could jump into a local red bus to Sawantwadi, a fairly large town in the context of South Maharashtra towns, and then hop on an inter-state bus to Panaji or the Konkan Railways train to Madgaon.

The owner of the resort offered to drop me to the bus stop about 4 km away, since he had some vegetable shopping to do in the market in town. I said good bye to the warm staff, and was soon on my way, riding pillion on the owner's scooter, umbrella in my back pack and camera in my pocket.


Next stop: Shiroda, and then Panaji.

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