Ni Dieu Ni Maitre

The Going Itself is the Way

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  • Colva Beach

    I had gotten quite comfortable in Panaji, learning to do the sweaty walk over the hill to the main town for lunch and business and taking breakfast, cappuchino, drinks and so on in the old town. I was so much at home that inertia had set in and the idea of going off to one of Goa’s beaches looked increasingly difficult.

    But one morning, I woke at five, and started to pack. I decided on Colva beach after reading a number of Travel blurbs describing it as a kind of paradise with lots of amenities. I was wary, envisioning an amped up Negombo Beach or, even a mini Miami Beach, with rows of giant hotels.

    The reality was quite a surprise. In one way it was a pleasant relief, but at the same time somewhat of a letdown. This is Colva beach? A bunch of shacks, a handful of mostly shabby hotels, many under extensive repairs and closed, food shacks, clothing shacks, a mostly barren beach and lots of cows everywhere.

    It’s not a horrible place, just fairly dull. It’s mainly a place for Indian tourists, although there is one place down the beach full of Euros and Aussies, with menus in Russian. Their ‘Indian’ food is not spicy. Night life? Well, I have trouble staying awake after 9, but it doesn’t look like there’s much at all.

    The ocean is here, but so are the stinging jellyfish… I haven’t seen many bathers even getting waist deep. My hotel has a pool. Checking out the nightlife, there were plenty of bright lights up and down the main road, but hardly any activity. It’s mainly a family place.

    But then there are the cows… and the amazingly fine-grained white sand.

    The lights are on, as I walked down several streets after dark, but absolutely nothing is happening. I’m comfortable enough here, with fan, A/C, the pool, the room door which I’ve managed to get locked as I go out a few times,, but mostly have to get a staff person to struggle with it. And then there’s the unlocking! I did it once, but often several staffers spend time struggling with it, pulling, twisting, pounding and kicking the door (this worked once) and eventually the door gets opened. Tomorrow I will walk the 2km down to Benaulim beach to check out an alternative.

  • Extra stuff

    ++

    I see that Donny Trump wants to have his image on a dollar coin. I’ve seen this BS before…

    Here’s the then sitting president of Sri Lanka, Rajapaksa in 2015, on his new money bearing his image and evidently raising the flag at Iwo Jima. My reaction… the mark of the dictator. He bankrupted his country and was driven out in disgrace. As America sleepwalks.

    What?

    Hitch-hiking days: Got invited out to Berkeley, Cal. by Annie, my ex. Sure enough, I hitch-hiked out. Unfortunately, I had a plan to only hitch on 2 lane roads and camp one night in each state I passed through. This didn’t work so well in the chimney of Idaho, only about 50 miles across when I had a ride to Spokane, but asked to get out after about an hours ride.

    My street in the old Panaji.

    By the time I hit Berkley, Annie had a new boyfriend, but she and her housemates said I could stay for a few weeks. I do recall seeing Commander Cody ant the Lost Planet Airmen at a free concert in People’s Park… but then headed home, still stuck on the 2 lanes.

    Old Portugese interior in one of my favorite restaurants.

    It was a hot August and the rides on the small roads were few and short. One farmer heading over to the hardware store in the next town, hours later another off to the feed store 10 miles down the road. I was standing for hours in the shade of a big oak when I walked back into the town and got a quart of Pabst Blue Ribbon and drank most of it while waiting around. After a bit, an attractive young blond went by in a white Caddy convertible. I cursed my luck, thinking, ‘Why do I never get a ride like that?’

    Japanese place.

    But then she came back, slowly drove by, checking me out, made a U-turn and picked me up. Marie had been drinking, as had I, and we stopped in several small town farmer’s bars where she explained to the bartender how to make a Grasshopper and I drank Leinenkugel’s, the local beer. At one point, feeling tipsy, she dropped a large wad of cash out of her bag onto the barroom floor, which I gallantly gathered up and put back in the bag… we were pretty well toasted and night was falling.

    She suggested a motel, but just then we came up on a large graveyard down a dirt road with a wide open gate. I said, ‘Hey, I have a tent and it’s a warm night, let’s pull in here and park out of sight of the road. We haven’t seen another car for a half hour.’ So we did. It was a full moon night and the place was full of statuary, angels, religious figures… we threw off our clothes and ran and danced around in the moonlight, like something out of a Fellini movie.

    In the morning, she explained her situation as the girlfriend of a construction boss off on a project in a remote area. She was the only woman on the site and lived in a trailer. Her boyfriend took off in the early morning and arrived home late for supper and sex. She finally got so bored that she grabbed his car and money and took off, but after buying me breakfast, she realized that she had to go back or he would certainly notify the police. End of story.

  • Goa

    Massive changes in 15 years.

    Again arrived in the dark and was overcharged for a fairly long cab ride to the capitol, Panjim/Panaji. I had been in this town twice before and got a hotel in the same neighborhoods. In 1985 was the first time and 2011 later. The changes over those years were small, and this sleepy former Portuguese colony retained a laid back charm.

    However, in 2011 I saw both the rise of an Indian middle class and the subsequent growth of domestic tourism. Both positives, but certainly massively changing former hippie haunts, as on the beaches of Goa into jet ski, speed boat rides out to harass the dolphins, huge hotel scenes… or at least that’s what I’m looking at online.

    The section of town that I’m in, just over a small hill from the main city cathedral, hasn’t changed all that much, with only a few upscale restaurants near the main junction. It caters to domestic tourists, and does have its charms. The city itself, however, has sprouted upward and outward into is now mainly tourist oriented.

    Which brings me to my current dilemma. In my late teens and early twenties, I was a hitch-hiker with a knapsack, crossing Canada and up to Alaska, circumnavigating the continental United States, camping in wilderness areas and later living on beaches in Hawaii for over a year, Then I discovered the 10 speed bicycle and shortly thereafter, cycle touring. I’ve ridden through dozens of countries on 5 continents with a partner and without. Through it all, I saw myself as a traveller, rather than a tourist, even avoiding tourist spots to live among the people of the lands I visited.

    But so far, I’m a tourist losing my freedom and independence and dealing with mainly people in the service industry, servicing tourists. My transportation has to be provided, lately by dishonest cab drivers. And after spending a fair while in Panaji, I’ll soon be heading off to one of the many tourist beaches here in Goa.

    The answer is pretty obvious… seek out more remote and interesting places and become a traveller once more. Easier said than done, and this will take some serious preparation… The North Eastern states of India look like a good choice from a few guys I have talked to who have come down here to work.

    They’re in the process of buffing and repainting this old Hindu temple.

  • Mumbai

    +

    Arrived in the severely polluted metropolis at around 2AM. Why my return left at 11:40 at night I have no idea. Hundreds of passengers from numerous flights queued up for hours to pass through customs and finally get their visa stamped. Left the airport at 4:30 AM, got a not very nice hotel and slept.

    From the hotel window.

    I will say that the room was comfortable and that I ate quite well and slept well. The hotel staff was also quite helpful. But problems abounded. First was a prearranged video call to my bank, late in the evening my time, and lasting two and a half hours of video fades and my inability to type and send an email on my new phone, but everything worked out in the end.

    Mumbai sidewalk. They are often blocked completely, causing everyone to walk in the horn honking traffic, which seems endless. Crossing the street means dodging between the hurtling vehicles as well.

    Spending hours attempting to buy an airline ticket to Goa, the stumbling block was my new phone number that was deemed incorrect. Several tuk-tuk rides across the metropolis to an Airtel phone facility determined that the correct phone sequence would be the airlines ‘+91′ the country code for India, followed by my ’91 91’ then the actual cell number. Or in some instances only one additional 91 guessed at by trial and error.

    Walking in the traffic.

    And the final stumbling block? No airline would accept a Visa card as payment! Nor would any bus line. Days are passing here with no action and a lot of frustration. Fortunately, I had gotten a lot of rupees at the airport on arrival, and finally with the help of the hotel staff, we contacted a travel agent who would accept the cash and get the ticket for me. Naturally enough, another late night flight, again arriving in the dark. One good thing in Mumbai. Lunch at a nice restaurant every day and several times enjoying Kaju Masala (kaju=cashews).

  • Leaving Sri Lanka

    The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao
    The name that can be named is not the eternal name
    The nameless is the origin of Heaven and Earth
    The named is the mother of myriad things

    I’ve come on a site which has dozens of translations of the Tao Te Ching. This has absolutely nothing to do with my topic for the day, as I am heading to India this evening. Mostly this page is a pictorial good word for Sri Lanka.

    Wetlands.

    Agriculture, downhill from a huge ancient reservoir.

    Unspoiled beaches.

    Wildlife.

    It’s a fairly small island.

    Bicycling with my friend Tony some years back.

    Up in the hills.

    And the waterfalls…

  • Forward or foreword

    Hi, this is Mike Quinlan writing from Sri Lanka, taking a one month shakedown cruise on my planned several year journey around India and South East Asia. I have bicycled through most of these countries over many decades, but at 80 years old, I have left the bike in the garage and set out with a backpack for the first time since I was in my twenties.

    This blog will follow the plan of my Journey to the East blog on crazyguyonabike.com, that is a few sentences of ramblings followed by a photo, and so on… lots of photos! Being a newbie to this format, I don’t see an option to upload a photo… drag and drop?