After a heavy night's partying, we have a leisurely start to the day. I meet Johannes and Claus for breakfast in the hotel and given it's the penultimate day of the tour I start thinking about how I'm going to make it down to Kerala independently. There are no direct flights until Saturday (which is too late). Erin has decided to join me so we agree to train/bus it. We will stay another night in Calangute, North Goa and then head south tomorrow to a beach, that my friend Angela has recommended (Palolem). The plan is to then get to Mangalore.
As a group we head to Anjuna beach and find some sun loungers where we crash for the afternoon. The beaches in North Goa are wide and sweeping, fringed with palm trees with wooden beach huts. They are disappointingly dirty in places and the water is a dark but an achingly warm, green. I have to confess that if I'd booked a two week holiday to Goa expecting Thai or Australian quality beaches I would have been very disappointed. Nevertheless sitting watching the waves crash in, looking out on the miles of rolling beach and ocean at The Sunset Bar, sipping ice cold Diet Coke, reading my book and watching people enjoying the surf, it could be a lot worse.
There are lots of Russians in Goa, they even have their own mafia base here. As encountered in Egypt - as a nation they seem to be incredibly fond of posing for photos (in as minimal clothing as possible) so part of our afternoon's entertainment is spent watching a couple take turns performing various playboy type poses in a string bikini and speedos.
Some other entertainment, slightly more worthy of being noted, is a family with a young daughter able to walk a tightrope with her feet following the curves of a hoola hoop against the rope six feet off the floor. They carry the wooden poles and rope able to construct their stage in less than a minute, hammering stakes into the sand to keep the platform tight. The girl works the tourists in front of her with many handing over notes for her efforts.
Despite using sun cream and it being very cloudy, when we get back to the hotel I realise I'm super burnt making a mental note to slather more on tomorrow. We crash out for a few hours and then meet for our farewell dinner.
We arrive at Brittos, a stunning restaurant, lit with candles, soft lighting and spilling gently onto Baga beach. I share some red wine with Johannes & Claus and decide to try some of the local speciality fish which comes bathed in garlic. It's a gorgeous place to savour our last night together and we spend the evening recounting our favourite places and stories from the trip. I'm sad to say goodbye as have made some lifelong friends.
After dinner we head for drinks at a nearby club where we have a few last dances and Ricky demonstrates that Bhangra style dancing can indeed be used to dance to any genre of music to (including the song Tudthumping by Chumbawumba. We say our first sad goodbyes to Johannes & Claus, who are flying home tomorrow at 4am, and the rest of the group leave me, Erin, Ricky and his cousin, Arj, partying.
We have an insightful chat with Arj discussing how western women are viewed in India and why he thinks arranged marriages are so successful. He tells us that the most important part of selecting a bride for their son is the woman's horoscope. If a woman has a bad horoscope she is almost destined to be a spinster (cats optional). Otherwise provided the horoscope predicts a good life and family AND that they belong to the same caste (if marrying outside of their caste and into a 'love marriage' the majority of Indian families disown their kids) they are good to go. Further selection criteria would be that she comes from a reputable family with good values and there is no dishonour. Looks, education and other traits valued in the west are not even mentioned.
I ask him what would happen if his family selected someone that he bore no physical attraction to and he simply says that he trusts his parents to choose someone suitable and he is looking for a life partner, a good wife and someone to love him. The attraction grows from here. He also goes into quite some detail about the importance of sex in marriage. If an Indian man is unable to satisfy his wife this brings great shame on him. Suddenly the Kama Sutra all makes sense!
We talk about Hinduism, souls, energy, karma, Islam and Buddhism. It's an intellectual and spiritual feast (especially after the rum!).
Ricky and Erin are succumbing to lack of sleep and the kamikaze shots being administered by Arj. Despite this they remain keen to party. After a few more dances I make our excuses and we say goodbye to Arj to head back to the hotel.
Something tells me we've left a very disappointed Arj behind at the club keen to demonstrate his tantric prowess on someone...
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