Ze Goa Trip (Part Five)

The fact that we'd actually lost our car sunk in the next day. So we spent most of our time at Calangute and decided to do some water sports. At Rs. 800 a head we got para-sailing, banana boat, water scooter and sting "Bumpa Ride" ray, not a bad fuckin deal if I say so myself. The sports were pretty cool and we all had a lot of fun. So on the whole a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon. In the evening we again split up into two groups and headed in different directions. This time Gillu, Abhinav, Pandu and I went towards Anjuna, desperate to relive the Shiva Valley experience. The others went to Baga to catch up on what they'd missed. We reached Anjuna, to discover that Thursday meant a party at Curlies and not Shiva Valley. We had dinner at Shiva Valley, a few bowls of Chicken Fingers and Chilly Prawns, washed down with Mojitos and beer. The party at Curlies was cool, not as intoxicating as the one at Shiva Valley, but still pretty good. We danced around for some time, a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The party stopped at 4 in the morning and by that time we were all hungry. Just outside the main restaurants there are several thelas which serve omelettes stuffed in a vada sort of bun. We had those and really enjoyed them.

Our last day in Goa was a relaxed one. Packing up and a brunch at Simon's Bar, followed by a long drive to Vasco Station, where we got onto the Goa Express. The train sucked ass. It stopped at almost every goddamned station in between Delhi, and was something like seven hours late by the time we finally reached Delhi. The train journey though was pretty interesting. Advait and I had a theological discussion with a pastor, Daniel Svenson. He was traveling to Simla with his family and we decided to go up to him and talk about the original sin amongst other things. He was a well traveled man and had us fascinated with his tales of Ecuador and other places he'd been. That was a very enlightening conversation and the cool thing is that Malli got selected at UCBS and that's where this guy lives, so that's one up for the fate/destiny assholes. A train journey is a cramped affair, so every now and then we'd get off and stretch. Gillu and I got off at some random station hunting for food. We bought a plate of Chola Bhaturas and a couple of bottles of Thums Up, when to our surprise the train started moving. We climbed onto the "General" compartment only to discover that the entrance to our sleeper class was sealed. And so started our two-hour stand in the general compartment. The irony of it? Before that station, the train had been making regular stops, like every twenty minutes. When we wanted it to stop, it took its time, two fucking hours of it. We didn't have our phones, so obviously the others were worried. Eventually, I stuck my head out of the door, only to see Ashish looking out from his windows. Smiles and abuses followed.

Ze Goa Trip (Part Four)

Wednesday, was the day that we'll all remember as "The day mother-fucker Carvalho struck". The morning started off on a bright and sunny note and we were all so happy. We decided spend the day at Panjim and so we took the road to the capital of the state. En route, an idea struck "Why don't we visit Old Goa first... do the churches and shit... and then spend the remainder of our day at Panjim...?" Worst fucking idea of our entire lives. We drove, stopping in between for some coconut water and reached Old-kiss-my-ass-Goa. Being the architectural enthusiasts that we are, we stormed the church-thingys for an overwhelmingly boring time. Roamed around for some time and yawned in the faces of dead for decades douchebags. But yeah the coolest thing about the place was that we met a pimp at the entrance to the church! So we're just about to enter the church, when out of the blue we meet "Rupesss", who shakes our hands and then asks us "You guys like to party? You want to go to some cool night clubs?" We're at a loss for words and just mumble about doing something later when he drops the A-Bomb "You want girlfffs...? Sab milega. College Girlfffs. Russian Girlfffs." And our reaction was "What in fuck's sake is this guy saying?" Intrigued we ask a few questions "Bhaiya kaisa rate hai?" "Rs. 3000 to Rs. 8000" "Bhaiya aap ko aur koi jageh nahi mili... church ke saamne aap pooch rahe ho?" "Bhaiya karna padta hai apna bhi business hai." We left him, but not before Gillu took his number, just in case. This and the nimbu-paani we had just outside the church were probably the best things about Old Goa. Mulle did his best to drive us insane... "One shot of the church from a distance of x meters and an angle of elevation on z degrees. Another shot of the church from a distance of x+1 meters and an angle of elevation of z degrees. Ooh ooh ooh, this will be brilliant, a shot of the church from a distance of x+1 meters but an angle of elevation of z-1 degrees..." is what was going on in his head.

On the drive back Abhinav took the wheel and when we're just about to exit Old-fucking-Goa, we get stopped by the cops. Introducing Mr. Osman Carvalho and his posse of tough, rugged, cock-sucking, donkey-fucking RTO officers. These assholes stop us and demand that Abhinav produce his DL. And would you believe it, he'd just lost his DL the other day. They then ask us for the RC and once again draw blanks, we try to explain to him that the car is a rental and the guy didn't give us a mother-fucking RC. We try everything from the sir-first-and-last-time approach to the sir-aapko-kucch-chahiye-to-batao one and none of them worked. He tells us that he's letting us off lightly because if he wanted he could easily file a stolen vehicle and then trying to flee the state case on us. That shut us up. So he left us in the middle of Old Goa and Panjim, with no car and yeah that's about it. Mulle, Ashish, Malli and Pandu left on the two Activas, while Joshi, Gillu, Abhinav and I had to take a bus to Panjim. We reached tired and extremely hungry and decided to go to Delhi Durbar, a place we'd heard a lot about. And wonders o fucking wonders, it was closed. The four of us scouted for some time and eventually reached "Happy Dayz", a place which had just opened up. Encouraged by the fact that the food and service should be good, we took our seats and were given complimentary drinks, our day just started to look up. We ordered our food and realized something very personal about the Goan people. These guys have no fucking sense of time. Our food which was supposed to at our tables in 20 minutes took about 80 minutes. When the waiter said "Sir ten more minutes" what he meant was more like forty more minutes. So when anybody in Goa says anything about how long something will take, just multiply that figure by four and wait patiently. The food though was scrumptious and we all felt pretty good after we had finished. we called up the others to discover that they were at Miramar beach. Travel tip, if you're going to Goa you can give Miramar a miss and for god's sake do not stay there, fucking expensive. Miramar is just full of Indians so it's kinda boring. The others told us that they were 200m to the left of the lifeguard tower. Now that is a pretty confusing statement if you're in Goa. For one thing, they'll point to the left and say "Take the right" and vice-versa, every-fucking-one does that so after some time you forget which right you're talking about the "Delhi right" or the "Goa right." Another thing is that distance is an undefined concept, much like time, 4kms turns out to be more like 12 kms and, you get the picture. So when we heard 200m-left-lifeguard tower, we just stood and thought for some time. But Abhinav was spot on when he said that we were looking for a solitary figure probably right next to the sea, with a bag and camera and trying to capture god-knows-what. He was right we identified Mulle from quite easily and from some distance.

We left Miramar by late evening, the four of us went down to Panjim for some shopping (cashewnuts) and just idling, while the others went to drop Ashish at his relatives' place. The downtown Panjim group eventually got bored and decided to return to Calangute. So we took a ferry and then a bus to our hotel, talk about utilizing all modes of transportation. The days events had pissed us off real bad and so Abhinav, Gillu and I decided to go out try and rent another car for the night and then head towards Baga. The asking rates were just too high for us, so we eventually got hold of a cabbie and told him to wait while we rushed back, changed into our finest clothes (the least we could do in order to woo members of the opposite gender) and emotionally blackmailed Joshi. Baga is a very cool place to hang out at, if you can try and a get a place over here as it stays open till like 4 in the morning. We were desperate to go to one of the pubs, Mambo's or Tito's. Unfortunately the cover charge at Mambo's was RS. 1200 while Tito's didn't have stag entry. Dejected we roamed around and settled at Kamaki, a bar which got two thumbs up from all of us. Joshi drank with us for the first time. Abhinav fell in love with Carlsberg, six pints, while Joshi, Gillu and I had a shot of Cashewnut Fenny, another of Blender's Pride and then three shots of Old Monk. The bar is frequented by a lot of foreigners and there were some hot chicks. We tried a hookah, grape flavor a first for me. Eventually a firang from one of the adjacent seats came upto us and asked if we had some weed. We said a no and he disappeared into the night. Soon he returned a with a couple of joints, we bought one for a hundred bucks and smoked it. That gave us the kick we needed and after some time we headed down to the beach. There Gillu and I went off to sleep while Abhinav and Joshi ordered some food. We took another cab back to the hotel and reached back tired but drunk and happy.

Ze Goa Trip (Part Three)

Our third day in Goa was spent either driving or just lounging about on some beach. We drove down to Kerim beach in the morning, stopping at some random place in the middle to take a break and eat some tamarind right off the trees. Now, Kerim beach is a utopia. Clean sand, extremely hot women, some of the topless, and shacks where chilled beer is served. We just lounged about till late afternoon, checking out the chicks and burying each other in the sand and then making faux boobies with more sand. I managed to lose Joshi's spectacles somewhere and destroyed my phone too when a huge surf drenched my reclining form. The lunch was OK, nothing to right home about, but the babes there were the high point. Extremely tiny black, green and brown bikinis left very little to imagine, though our minds were constantly at warp-speed. By late afternoon tired of the hard work we had been engaged in we decided to move to some other beach. While coming to Kerim we had stopped near some random beach to climb a hill just on the outskirts. The hill gave a magnificent view of white sand, coconut trees and blue water. It was at this beach that we now stopped, again just lounging about in some chairs having a few smokes.

We returned to our rooms by late evening and famished decided to go to Anjuna beach, there were a couple of places over there that we'd heard about, so we wanted to check them out. After a short drive we reached the place, another short journey this time on foot brought us to the beach. But, even before we reached we could hear the trance music and that, my friends, is what Anjuna is about. Gillu, Pandu and I stopped to buy yet another pack of cigarettes, while the rest went on ahead. We met up at Curlies, a great place if you're looking for good food, women and music. They told us about the party at another joint, Shiva Valley, and the description was "Dude... you have to go there... it's like everyone's high and they're just dancing." Our piqued curiosity wouldn't let us rest, so after ordering our food the three of us went down. And it was fucking unbelievable. You seriously must go to Shiva Valley if you're looking for a party because that was amazing. More than a hundred people, listening to amazing trance and just letting go off everything is a sight that leaves one speechless. We decided to return to the place after getting high on something or the other. We came back and after some time our food arrived. That too left us searching for the right words. It looked beautiful and was delicious. The Chicken Vindaloo, Pomfret and Chicken Cafreal are a must try if you ever go there. We saw several hot females in extremely tiny tops and skirts having beer and smoking, which really turned me on. After the food we rushed to Shiva Valley to join in the merriment. The atmosphere there was just infectious. It was as if people were being controlled by an invisible puppeteer. Everyone was somehow doing exactly the same dance step. A guy in a pink tracksuit came on to the stage and just started convulsing on the stage. By the time he was finished "dancing" the pink tracksuit became more like a red one. There was this extremely hot woman in a black top moving her body in this extremely sensuous manner on the stage. The music was this constant beat, with its and pieces coming in and going out at regular intervals, and was entrancing. It was heaven. We danced around, enjoyed the music and despite the fact that we didn't want to leave we did so eventually. This was probably the best night we guys had in Goa and after that the bar for any DJ night has been raised to a whole new level, and we're still looking for one to top it. And yeah, the party at Shiva Valley is on Tuesday, a must attend, while the party at Curlies is on Thursday, pretty good but nothing in comparison to the bash at Shiva Valley.

Ze Goa Trip (Part Two)

The following dawn brought with it a breakfast of bread, jam and butter. We made a call to get our own jeep and scooty for the rest of our trip. The Jeep was this battered-up white vehicle, which when driven gave the impression hat it might just collapse into a heap of nothingness. The driver's seat had been adjusted to it's frontmost position and then welded, so that driving was really uncomfortable especially for tall people, such as Abhinav who barely managed to fit into the seat. Thus the car had to be driven by vertically challenged individuals, who rushed in to save the day with much glee. But the jeep was also one of the coolest things about the Goa trip and if you're ever going to Goa, do hire a jeep and make sure that you collect the registration certificate for the car, do not accept any bullshit from the car rental agency on that particular item. The Activa was a sleek silver fish ready to cut through the air at speeds unimaginable to the minds of us mere mortals. There was a fierce debate which raged throughout the trip, well not exactly the entire trip, right up until the point when we encountered a Mr. Osman Carvalho, on which vehicle gave a better "feel". I say that though the scooty was fun the real mood of Goa was captured when I was in the jeep.

We decided to visit Fort Aguada, where we thought Dil Chahta Hai had been shot. But first, off to the petrol station. The thing about Goa is that there aren't very many petrol pumps, so you'll have these roadside vendors selling you fuel in 1l bottles. We managed to find one who was in this narrow street just off the main road. Mulle drove to the shop and was just thinking about how much fuel to tank up on, when we suddenly saw Abhinav waving towards us. We waved back, cursed him a little and then shouted back "Saale, tu yahaan par aaja..." but to no avail. Mulle reversed and when we were within shouting distance we heard Abhinav shouting "Oye Ashish tumahare saath hai kya...?" We looked at each other and then replied "Nahi woh toh tere saath tha..." Yup Ashish got carvalhoed :)! Apparently he had been trying to teach Abhinav how to drive the scooty, but before he could get his backside on the pillion seat, Abhinav took off. Frantic phone calls were made and Ashish's only reply to "Where are you?" was "Fort Aguada". Thankfully though he wasn't that pissed off and after filling up on petrol and buying a few bottles of Foster's we were on our way. Fort Aguada was your regular shit-ass fort made boring by the complete lack of hot chicks. There were families over there with little kids and we drank beer over there \m/. We sat on some tower sort of thing and opened up the booze. Families ,who had earlier been coming to catch a glimpse of the bright blue sea from where we were sitting, started taking a slight detour probably cursing us as vile repugnant creatures. But they left us in peace, so we're happy which works out. After snapping a few totally jabhi pics, we moved to one of the roadside shack that are near the fort and bought more beer (Kingfisher's Draught). We drove down to a lighthouse near the fort and there the group split up. Ashish, Mulle, Joshi and Malli went up to the lighthouse and checked out the view from there while Pandu, Gillu, Abhinav and I sat down at a cliff and drank beer. This was definitely one of the best parts of the entire trip, the four of us sitting there and just drinking ice-cold beer. The other guys came down and then went to a beach at the base of the cliff, we just sat and drank more beer. We had, in all, eight bottles of Foster's and twelve cans of Kingfisher. Abhinav taught some foreigners how to sing "Do dil mil rahein hain magar chupke chupke", I was the one who'd drive down to the stalls to get more beer and we all were so happy. The view was amazing, the beer perfect and the company beyond perfect. By the time the others returned we all were a bit whoozy and decided that it was time to be heading back. Gillu and Abhinav went of to sleep in the car which was taken to Sinqeurium Beach. While the remaining sober men went to the beach and admired the sunset, I went to the Taj to take a piss. Nice place that, a spa, nice bathrooms and a very hospitable staff. We then retreated to Ocean Star where Gillu and Abhinav were put in a bed, and we guys left for dinner at Kishore, a place on the main road, which had pretty decent food.

When Gillu and Abhinav, woke up we went down to Calangute for more food and while they ate we just lounged about, went down to the waves and enjoyed the cool breeze. We returned and suddenly this desire to go for a night drive entered our minds. So while Mulle, Ashish, Joshi and Malli slept, we guys got into the jeep and went on the most exhilerating drive of my life. At first we weren't sure where to go but soon one of us saw a board saying "Panjim 15 kms". That was all the encouragement we needed. At top speed we sped on empty roads, the cold wind blasting against our faces boosting our high on life. The roads were a pleasure to drive on dark but still navigable due to well placed reflectors. We reached Panjim and saw this kick-ass yaught, the plaything of some rich bastard anchored in the river Zuari. A few casinos dotted the coastline so we decided to park our car and inquire about the entry charges. The average charge was something like Rs. 2000 with playable non-refundable chips worth Rs. 1000 and food and drinks on the house. We decided to check out other casinos and entered Casino Pride. A woman at the reception told us that the entry charge was Rs. 1500 with the same deal as above. It seemed reasonable to us and we started asking about the games that were played. She looked at us, four twenty-something boys dressed in shorts and cheap t-shirts, and told us "The buy-in for Texas Hold 'em is Rs. Ten Thousand." We all just burst out laughing and she joined. After that, we gave up and decided to try and get some more food, but all the food stalls were closed so we decided to try our luck at Calangute. Pandu drove us back to our hotel, but before that we went down to a place called 24X7, pretty self-explanatory, and grabbed some delicious fish 'n' chips and chilly prawns. At Ocean Star, too tired to do anything except make fun of the others, we all went off into a blissful slumber.

Ze Goa Trip (Part One)

Neither the Tower of Pisa
Nor the majestic Pyramids of Giza
Caused any regret when I left them behind.
Yet for another night at Baga
And one more beer at Fort Aguada
A thousand times by Carvalho I would gladly be fined.

I have been trying to write this entry ever since I came back from Goa but would just get lost in memories every time I tried to pen down something. So now that the hangover is over, finally, I can tell you about the great granddaddy of all trips.

First and foremost, kudos to Ashish and Mulle for rounding up the usual gang of idiots together, getting them to agree on something and then making the required arrangements. The train journey to Goa wasn't anything special. Mulle's paranthas (nothing can beat his mother's culinary skills) ensured a smooth start and it wasn't long before we were taking each others case, having the occasional cigarette (Gillu and I would go to the toilet and smoke cause we saw a sign which said that there was a Rs. 200 fine for puffing on the train. Later,encouraged by the sight of other smokers on the train we pulled our balls together and enjoyed the cigs standing at the train entrance), playing a few hands of poker and basically chilling out in the new environment. Abhinav managed to sleep throughout the journey though he didn't miss out on much. Malli suffered from a mild attack of the Mulle bug (induction, proximity, exchange of bodily fluids, the cause remains unknown) evident from the fact that he took some photos which were very moving and forced us materialistic bastards to take a moment and think about our lives.

We landed at Thivim and were welcomed by a merciless sun, speeding taxis and a landscape dominated by greenery. The cabs dropped us at Hotel Ocean Star, Calangute Beach which was a very good place to put up at, close to the beach and the market, while not being adjacent to the road. The owner, a charming old lady, gave us the key to our "villa", two rooms, a bathroom, a fridge and a cupboard. She sent over two extra mattresses so that the male bonding in this trip would be kept to a bare minimum.

We got ready and then with smiles on our faces, shades on our eyes and extremely dirty thoughts in our minds went down to the beach. At this point I’d like to take a moment and tell the readers that Goa is a place where there are a lot of hot chicks and when I say hot, I mean super-fucking-nova hot. Baga is teeming with hot bods. A visit to Anjana will convince you that you’re in an engineering student’s dream. The chicks at Kerim made me believe that there really is a god. Unfortunately Calangute is not where you want to be if you’re feeling horny. We were actually thankful that the women there were wearing bikinis and were not displaying their goods to all and sundry. It was as if the entire sexagenarian, septuagenarian and octogenarian population in Europe had decided to come to Goa and hold the world’s biggest sagging tits orgy. Talk about KLPD, that bad. The food though was great, which is pretty much true for most of the shacks/restaurants in Goa. We were introduced to gastronomical wonders such as Chicken Cafreal, Prawn Xacuti, Chicken/Prawn Vindaloo and Jeera Rice. Here the fact that we were in Goa also set in and we all ordered beer. Seriously the amount of money and time we guys spent on getting wasted is not funny and by the end of the trip, beer wasn’t even an alcoholic beverage.

Once the food settled down we went down to the beach and started playing some farzi football which eventually ended up with all of us in the sea, thoroughly drenched and enjoying every second of it. At this point of time the group split up with Gillu and me deciding to grab some more food while the others went ahead to a cliff at the end of the beach. Gillu and I sat at Buddha Bar, ordered a couple of beers and prawn pasta (scrumptious). Now, while walking up to the counter both of us noticed this beautiful chick sitting in a hanging chair in an extremely hot green dress and by the time our food was ready and our beers over, she decided to leave. We decided to go and hang out in the chair and when we got there we saw “Stories of Seduction”, a paperback, on the table. What followed was a brief debate on whether to take the book and then search for this girl and return it to her. The math however wasn’t in tune with our desires and we left the book to enjoy the pasta. Our bellies content, we decided to go back to the room, get ready and then buy some booze. On the way to the local theka we were mistaken for a couple of rich kids by a drug-dealer. Our conversation was something on the lines of:

DD (who doesn’t speak, he whispers): Hey you guys want some E?

Gillu (this is a recording of his mental reaction): Maal marenge, maal mare….What the fuck!? Did he just say E? Moti did you hear what he said? Was there a mention of E?

Moti (again a recording): Bandi thokenge, bandi thoken….What the fuck!? Did he just say E? Gillu did you hear what he said? Was there a mention of E?

Gillu and Moti look at each other, shocked and at a loss for words. Finally they manage something.

M and G (G and M didn’t feel right): Nahi bhaiya, thank you…

After some time while wolfing down some Bhel Puri

G: Yaar, isse weed ke liye pooch sakte hain…

M: Haan yaar, iske paas to banta hai hona chal baat karte hain.

M and G: Bhaiya, aapke paas weed hoga…?

DD (whispering continues): Yes, how much do you want…?

M and G (as if they’re buying vegetables): Aap yeh to batao kitne ka bech rahe ho…?

DD: Rs 600 for something like 30 joints…?

M and G: Nahi bhaiya, too expensive and we don’t need that much…

DD: OK Rs 400 but you’ll get a slightly smaller amount of weed…?

M and G: OK bhaiya batate hain (which means screw you guys ima going home).

We bought the booze (A khamba of Haig and a bottle of Port Wine, both of which were never consumed during the trip, along with a few bottles of beer) and then started off on this ass-whooping trek to the other side of the beach. We collapsed mid-way, cursing and out of breath, though thankfully not out of suttas and waited for the others to arrive which was followed by a very relaxing dinner at, the irony of it, Lover’s Corner Shack. We returned to the hotel, led by Malli (who, due to some reason, ran all the way back to the hotel) and collapsed.