Wake me up, before you go Goa #3

January 2019 - Goa, India

A cow in the meadow goes moo, but a cow on the beach drinks my newly-poured gin and tonic. This is in no way a criticism of this cow as I understand the importance of the values of the sacred animal in Hinduism, a religion I was brought up with. I’ve always lived by the well-known Hindu motto of ‘don’t have a cow, man’ and - even as a non-believer - I vow to forever stand by that. Having said that, I sure as hell gave this cow a stern stare in its evil, twisted eyes as I begrudgingly called my waiter over to my sun lounger - of which I had to sit slightly up from by the way - and ordered another G&T from a man who must’ve thought I’d just drunkenly downed my last one. I thought to myself that it was probably best not to attempt to explain my displeasure and I avoided suggesting to have a ‘don’t have a cow on this beach, man, or it will drink your bloody premium spirits’ policy.

Brittos Restaurant & Bar, Baga Beach

The glorious Indian hospitality continued when we were welcomed lovingly by my cousin’s family in their stunning apartment in Goa. During another luxury pick up from an airport by a family’s driver, we found stark contrasts to the capital city. My cousin had already prepared (perhaps warned) us to ‘get our drinking hats on’, and I did not have to be told twice! It was, in fact, more likely four or five times as I couldn’t muster any alcohol due to my pounding headache. So I took advantage of the filtered water as the real adults around me drank to their heart's content.

My family moved to Goa 11 years ago, so I’d spent little time with them as an adult. My cousin and I share an unwanted common connection but have never shared stories since those two brothers left us. To talk openly about our family was heart-warming - and also tough at times - as we spoke of the fun times, the sad times, the controversial times and the pleasantly unforgettable times. He shared a strong relationship with my dad who was the fun, young uncle to many of my cousins and it was warming to hear so many kind words.

Candolim Beach

English and Russian tourists flock to the Goan beaches and we were no different in our visits to Candolim. Beach shacks filled the sand and we consumed much food and many cocktails during another happy hour in the blazing sun. No indication of bus stops meant it wasn’t an easy task using public transport but once you stepped on it was only around ₹15 (16p) each for a single ticket - considerably less than the overpriced taxi services in the city. However, uncomfortably standing tight to other sweaty bodies whilst jostling for space meant it was to be our last journey on the bus; only taxis would suffice from now on.

A surprise highlight of Goa was the Sahakari Spice Farm. For just ₹400 (£4.30) each, we received a very educational guided tour, a tasty lunch buffet and a shot of the local-made 42% alcohol cashew feni - made from the delicious and over-priced nut. We winced as the burning sensation hit us quick and we jumped at the chance of buying a vanilla-flavoured bottle. The viewing of a breathtaking elephant entering the lake was a bonus at this place of paradise.

St Basilica of Bom Jesus

We paid our respects and visited the fairly simple free-to-enter Hindu Shri Mangueshi temple - a first visit of its kind for Bex. I explained the general ritual; we washed our feet, she covered any bare skin, we made a donation and we received our blessing from the priest before sitting in silence for a short while. This was followed by the interesting 16th-century built St Basilica of Bom Jesus which holds the mortal remains of St. Francis Xavier. It's located in Old Goa which was once the capital of Goa during the early days of Portuguese rules.

The Baga strip was filled with locals and tourists - and more importantly - happy hours. We had a good-valued meal at Tito’s Restaurant and drank our standard RPS 200 espresso martinis before visiting every other happy hour in sight. We returned to the club of Tito’s but did not have the same pleasant experience. Cashews were ever-prominent in Goa, so I thought it only right for us to order some at the bar. 20 minutes passed and nothing. Another 10 minutes and I asked of the whereabouts and was told ‘2 minutes’. Another 10 minutes passed and the club was approaching the 3am close time. And guess what I saw by the waiter, plonked on a paper plate, with no seasoning and still not delivered to us? I was livid. I argued relentlessly with the staff and demanded our RPS 180 refund but was frequently told ‘sorry, it’s not possible, sir’. We were offered free drinks instead but they struggled to understand our disinterest in sitting alone in a closed bar. Eventually, my masculinity prevailed and I received my refund. We left - cashew-less and hangry. Cashew-gate will live long in the memory.

A tribute to dad, Candolim Beach

We visited Brittos - a Goan institution since 1965 on Baga Beach and - despite feeling a little queasy - it proved to be a very enjoyable meal. Foods from around the world were on offer, including my Goan vegetable xacuti (a complex spiced curry) dish, and also - the main reason my cousin encouraged the visit - pie and chips. A much-missed food from home was always a treat so you can understand the horror when the news came through that there was no pie left. His face dropped. Disheartened, but not defeated; he just ordered something else.