India: Arabian Sea

In the morning Ilona is feeling a little better and feels up to eating which is a miracle because she hasn’t eaten much in the last few days, so I go on a mission into the streets of Goa to find her some breakfast. She requested a muffin and I know that is going to be next to impossible but I try. I stumble upon a cafe about half a kilometre down from our hostel after being called over by every single shop keeper on the street. I am basically the only person walking around because not many people are up early in Goa, I guess it’s due to the beachy vacation vibe.
As I approach the cafe I see a muffin in the display case and am so happy to have found something Ilona can eat. I bring it back to the hostel along with two fruit smoothies (one for me of course). The muffin is awful, but she eats it anyway. She has taken a hot shower while I’ve been away (hot shower is an extremely rare treat for us backpackers) and feels much more refreshed and healthy. We go hang out by the pool for a bit, then she decides that she has the energy to go to the beach ! On the way we stop for water and I grab a Bacardi Breezer for the sand. Two liters of water and a cooler cost 80 rupees ($1.50), basically free. The best thing ever.

We make it down there and find a quiet spot on the beach where we won’t be bothered by too many people. I don’t know who I thought I was kidding when I thought we would be left alone on our beach visit. I think being on a more quiet patch almost drew more attention to us because our white skin was much more obviously seen with no people to shade us. Who knows, but we had numerous people approach us and ask if they could take a picture of us, with us, of them, or wanted to know our names etc. I will never understand the concept of wanting to take a picture with me when people don’t even know me. And even more confusing are the people who want me to take a picture of them. On MY camera. Why? I have to say though, I do prefer when they ask if they can have a photo, as opposed to them just getting close to my face and sticking a camera in it without my permission.

I decide to go for a quick swim in the Arabian Sea. I would explain why, but does it really need an explanation? It’s the Arabian Sea.
I go in alone while Ilona sits with our things on the beach and continues to be approached by Indian men wanting to talk to her. Thinking I have escaped them, I start walking into the waves. The waves are strong and the sand beneath my feet is sinking, so when I turn around to see if find Ilona on the beach I realize I’ve been guided very left by the sea. I start slowly walking back towards my original entry point, just enjoying the water and the view. As I am walking, still quite far out from the shore, two young Indian boys of about 15 are getting too close to me, walking towards me and staring at me. I politely ask them to keep their distance from me, and they put up their hands like I’m being ridiculous. I continue walking, at the same time trying to get away from them and back to the shore. Ten seconds later when a big wave comes rolling in, I turn around to see one of them right beside me, who reaches out to grab my bathing suit top. Needless to say, I lose my mind. I start screaming at the kids telling them to get away from me, I think I call them gross, I swear at them. I am probably a little harsh, but not really because that’s totally nasty, in every culture. Land or sea, there is no escape.
It does become pretty emotionally taxing to always be on your a-game about everything. There are ALWAYS people who are always trying to rip you off, steal your things, who want to “help” you find something, grope you. It’s exhausting, and I finally snapped. Ilona got a picture of me telling them off, which after I calm down, is maybe a little funny.
The upside to the constant trickery here, is that I’ve gotten pretty good at bargaining and knowing how much I am willing to pay for something. I don’t feel bad about telling someone they are asking too much, where as before I felt like I might insult them.

After that little incident we leave, because I am ready to punch the next person who approaches me. We stick to the backyard pool where there are no leering young boys to bother us.
Goa is beginning to get on my nerves, as it’s humid weather and sandy beaches don’t quite allow for me to cover up the way one should when traveling through India. It’s hard to complain when the scenery is so beautiful, but I am in too adventurous a mood to lay on a beach all day. There is also less culture here than in Delhi or Jaipur, so I look forward to getting back to that bustling city on Sunday to do some more exploring.

I forgot to mention what I did for dinner in my last post, and for the first time in a long time it was actually note worthy!

On my way home from the beach I found a hotel that I had read about in Lonely Planet called Johnny’s Hotel. Lonely Planet described it as a very cheap but clean place to stay with a restaurant attached so I figured I’d try it out. I was the only person in the restaurant, which made me skeptical, but I was hungry and didn’t care. I ordered butter chicken and cheese garlic naan (interested in how that works). The butter chicken was delightful. I think I was probably more impressed with it than I should have been, but after a drought of good Indian food which I have been trying hard to find, it was like a breath of fresh air. The cheese garlic naan however, had no cheese. I do not comprehend why so many menus here cannot offer what is listed on their menu, but I’m not mad about it because it still came with garlic and let’s be real, that’s the only important part.

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