Mobor , Goa

We were just getting to know each other - early 2010. I was frustrated with work and the path often picked by me in such situations was simply getting off the path. Dropping off the radar so to speak. Nimesh echoed a similar desire, albeit not coming from similar reasons. By the end of our discussion we seemed to be planning a trip together much to my amusement. A week passed and the only suggestion that was consistently rearing its head was Goa. Having been there twice and having an inkling of how diverse our agenda’s for Goa would have been I remember wondering…is this a good idea? That trip didn’t take off and a few years since we finally made it there. Surprisingly, or not so much (thankfully), we found ourselves on common footing for planning out the agenda (do nothing). We narrowed in on Bamboo House in Mobor, and it has been one of the most blessed decisions we could have made. 

The location has some crazy advantages and I’m unable to decide which of these tops the list. It is right where the river Sal meets the sea. The nearest shacks were far enough to be just  a clutter of lights and lanterns and the only part of the music that reached us were some muted beats. This meant that we had beautiful evenings and peaceful sleep broken occasionally with a huge wave crashing on the beach.

One of the days saw us going to Anjuna. We had headed there in the hope of taking a dekho at the flea market. It was worth it. Massive as it was, it housed 100s of little stalls with all kind of stuff. Woollens, tea , masala, bags , jewellery and your regular typical Goan fare of sarongs . What really got our attention were middle aged Gujarati women at the masala stalls and of course the exchange of thick wads of money every 20 steps or so. Handling that kind of money with such almost dismissive ease…..! ?!

The drive to and from Anjuna had us pass through many villages and being the pillion rider I had the opportunity to gawk at the homes. This being my favourite activity in a new place, I made the most of it.   For now I seem to be able to see the drive without the ability of putting it to words, Maybe sometime later.

While returning from a lazy lunch we found the beach dotted with kites- facing the sea… their sight fixed on the horizon. Proud and very textbook General-like.  Sand plovers (?) bobbed around just about touching the water, as we walked. Some mornings, we’d go where the river meets the sea. We watched boats come and go, the kites, crows, egrets and dogs competing for the left overs. I suspect the competition was just for fun, there seemed to enough for everyone.

Back at Bamboo House we had delightful conversations with the owners. Amandeep and his father. From Tito’s to Ankleshwar (Gujarat) and from Russian mafia to the crafts persons from Tripura who built the cottages, the conversation was warm , enthusiastic and easy flowing. The stay at bamboo house was lovely. They have comfortable uncluttered cottages/huts without the frills of room service (the restaurant is next door). I watched each morning as Aman’s father switched off the lights in the verandas and on looking around one can feel the simple warmth with which the place is run.  We hope to return to it next year.