A woman I work with, Vinita, is from India. When I asked her where we should go in India, she recommended Goa, her hometown. It's a beautiful beach town, with many beaches, fresh seafood, and a very relaxed atmosphere. Just what the doctor ordered.
After leaving the Lake Palace, we drove four hours to the airport in Ahmedabad. On the way I got to experience my first squat toilet on the way - um, I'm not interested in repeating that experience. In Ahmedabad, we said goodbye to Mintu and caught a plane to Goa. A few things about flying in India:
* They have separate security screenings for men and women. I stood in line behind Andy for almost a full minute, before I realized the men were telling me to go over to the women's line.
* You have to have a tag on all bags, not just your checked bags. After you go through security, they stamp the tag to let the people checking your ticket at the gate know that your bag has been screened. I found this out the hard way when no one told me to put a tag on my bag, and I had to go back through security.
* Everyone takes a bus or walks out to the plane. I know some airports in America do this, but it's definitely not the norm.
The plane ride wasn't too bad, except it left about an hour late, and they served some nasty spongy sandwich on the plane. Once we arrived in Goa, it took us an hour and 20 minutes to get to our shack.
Andy really wanted to stay in a hut on the beach, one so close to the beach that you could just walk out your front door and be at the ocean. I thought it sounded fun and romantic, so I decided to go along with the idea. At the Lake Palace, we booked a hut on a secluded beach. But when we got there (at 10:30 or 11:00 pm), they told us that they were closed for the season and didn't know how we booked a room because they weren't even taking Internet reservations. Uh, okay, but what do we do now?
They told us we could stay for the night, but they didn't have any laundry services or a restaurant. At this point, Andy has no more clean clothes, and is desparate for laundry services. We decided to stay for one night, and they showed us the tents. Yep, big camoflauge tents with zippers. Andy asked if they had anything more, um, permanent, and they showed us to our shack. Here's our shack - A5. Good thing we're just here for one night. Talk about two extremes - from the Lake Palace to a shack on the beach.
1 comment:
Dang - it's too bad that the internet allowed you to book a room, when they were closed for the season!!
Post a Comment