Monday, October 18, 2010

Goa, India

You had probably heard of Goa, long before I ever mentioned it.  I had, long before our travels.  What you may not realize (I didn't), is that it's not a town.  It's not a beach.  It's a state.  A small state, but its very own state nonetheless.

So when flying into Goa, we realized we really had no idea where to go.  We opted to head north, reputed to have more of a party scene than the idylic beaches of the south.  And we divided our two weeks there among three places:


This was supposedly he party place to be.  We found it to be annoyingly overrun by speeding scooters and pretty dead at night.  Granted, we arrived on a Monday and then Reece was sick in bed for three days.  But there was no charm or character to speak of and we wondered if Goa was really all that after all.


Upon our arrival here, were were PISSED.  Why?  Cause we wasted four nights in Baga when this was just 15 minutes up the road.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  Vagator was even more quiet than it's downstairs neighbor.  But we stayed in a great little resort with stunning views from both the large pool and the fantastic clifftop restaurant.  Being here felt like a bona fide vacation.  And the cows on the beach were incredibly entertaining.


Ohhhhhh.  So THIS is the Goa everyone talks about.  NOW I get it!  Love love loved it.  Arambol is the kind of place you can easily get sucked into for months on end.  I almost convinced the manager of our favorite eating/drinking/lounging joint to hire me for the season.  As long as my job consisted of sitting on a beach recliner smoking sheesha all afternoon.

For more photos from Goa, click HERE.

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