Goa Part 1

I have wanted to come up with the complete description of what Goa meant to me and I would say two words sum it up “Letting Go” but far better captured by this picture of a dog on the lawn of the Cathedral of St Catherine in Old Goa.

The weather was wonderfully warm and inviting though we did have some overcast days. The beaches are plentiful and varied, more on that later, and the place is such a wonderful bazaar of the bizarre. Reconstituted hippies, middle aged women looking for adventure, hip young things with petrified faces as they negotiate the narrow pot holed lanes on their scooters and motorbikes, stoned and drugged dreadlocked dudes doing their thing on and off the beach and plenty of young Indian men just wanting to be part of the action.

The state is small by Indian standards, but size was never important as we all know. It’s what you do with it. Goans do a lot.

Firstly the Xmas spirit so hugely absent in Delhi was alive and well in this state where Christians love their nativity displays and their fairy lights. Churches everywhere, big imposing ones like the ones in old Goa, the Basilica of Bom Jesus, which is a World Heritage Monument  where St Francis Xavier is kept in an ornate coffin. He is responsible for converting a large part of the population here in the 16th century, and then smaller churches all built in the Portuguese style bedecked with Xmas lights.

The state is one long strip of beautiful coastal beaches and villages with coconut trees and lush vegetation. Everywhere the distinctive architectural style of the porched house with the chairs built in to the house entrance. The ornate verandas and beautiful windows and shutters are individually crafted. A lot lie derelict and uncared for but are ripe for masterful makeovers which will attract the tourists from all over the world. Our hotel, Casa Anjuna,  was one such house beautifully laid out in gardens with rooms which were decorated with old pieces of furniture and four poster beds.