Tailing Mad Dog and Englishmen
Goa is overflowing. There are people everywhere and finding a room on the beach will be a chore. Pulling into Palolem, we once again bump into Mad Dog and Englishmen and decide to form a convoy in search of lodgings. Mad Dog and Englishmen are actually four members in two rickshaws. They are also we are later informed more Mad Dog than Englishmen. It seems if you take the sum total of English in the four members, you could create an Englishman.
We find the name of two hotels to try in Margao. Once in Margao, Raj (Mad Dog and Englishmen) scouts ahead for rooms. After being assured that three rooms are available in one hotel, we are told that ze Germans phoned in and snatched the rooms before we can register.
We scramble and decide to split up and find individual rooms. By some stroke of luck, the D(harma) Bums find a room on the beach in Colva.
While having dinner, we once again bump into one half of Mad Dog and Englishmen, who have scored a room just around the corner from ours. In a stylish display of diffidence, they even manage to park their rickshaw directly in front of the hotel entrance.
War stories are traded and Mad Dog and Englishmen tell us of their miserable night in Ponanni (pronounced poo-nanny) while perversely relishing the pronunciation of the city's name.
After much driving in the day, we are exhausted and ready to turn in. Walking back to the hotel in the dark, we are confronted by a snarling dog (stray dogs and cows are everywhere in India). After the day's journey, we are fearless and march on. Three young Indian men pass by us in the dark; each wears a Santa hat and we enjoy a quiet chuckle at their expense.
Back at the hotel, the impromptu dance floor set up for New Year's is pumping with House music. Four young Indian men in tight fitting clothes are performing Bollywood style dances with each other. Heading into the room, I am once again reminded of the Englishmen's words:
"There is no word for homophobia in Hindi."
Posted at 07:00PM Dec 30, 2006 by D Bums Comments[0]
Road to Goa
The road to Goa is clear. We leave the Karnataka state and enter Goa. The police check point is set in the hills overlooking the coast under a forest canopy. We spot a member of Mad Dog and Englishmen and he flags us down. We must check in with the police upon entering Goa. Mad Dog and Englishmen inform us that they only paid 20 rupees to the police and tell us not to pay more. I am still bewildered as to why we are paying 20 rupees in the first place. Upon reflection, it is less than 50 cents; it is not worth fussing about and we pay at the checkpoint.
Bennett inquires about Al Qaeda's threats on Goa after having heard a couple nights before from a couple of travelers that Goa was a ghost town due to terrorist threats. The police assure us there is no trouble and we find later that, yes, Goa is overflowing with New Year's revelers.
Posted at 04:00PM Dec 30, 2006 by D Bums Comments[0]
Mangalore
We pull into Mangalore. A surprisingly modern city in the evening. There are neon city lights and large hotels and an Infosys buiding that greets our arrival. Once again, we drive around lost in the dark looking for a hotel. We come across a Krishna temple. All its garish colors and statues visible in the dim circle of the city lights.
In the morning, the chariot is serviced and we are on the road again.
Posted at 10:00PM Dec 29, 2006 by D Bums Comments[0]
The Starving Chariot
Having driven quite a few kilometers without incident, the road to Mangalore seems clear. We stop over into a small village to watch men apply tar to their boats and begin again after this short break. The chariot begins to stall. We are forced to pull off the road to try to restart the engine.
Luckily for us, we are stopped near 6 or 7 rickshaw drivers who inexplicably happen to be parked on a hillside across from us. They notice our troubles and come over, 6 strong, to help. Bennett heads over to a roadside shack to buy a refreshment. The old man gives Bennett a coconut for free, probably out of pity. The men examine the rickshaw, pull apart the fuel line, and find that the tank is empty. I get a ride to the petrol station and bring back a couple liters. We start up again. The men give our rickshaw a push back onto the roadway and wave excitedly as we pull away towards Mangalore. Once again, thank you India!!!
Posted at 03:00PM Dec 29, 2006 by D Bums Comments[0]
The Malabar Coast
After a few hours driving, we are back onto Indian Highway 17 driving along the Malabar coast. There is an endless stretch of white sand beach as we drive along the palm lined highway. Tiny food shacks lay along the roadside. Otherwise, the view to paradise is clear and uninterrupted. Mangalore, here we come!
Posted at 12:00PM Dec 29, 2006 by D Bums Comments[0]
Navigation Map
