If we row straight on we’ll hit Oman or Yemen. Yes, thats what I thought as I saw the sun set from my kayak two kilometers off the coast of Paololem. And such was the Goa trip.

It was a three day ride from Jodhpur (if you are a regular here you would recall I study there). The first night-halt was at Ahmedabad – pretty uneventful apart from the late night adventure of trying to find out where Macca’s was. Oh and about Ahmedabad – There’s something about the place y’know. Maybe it’s got something to do with it being a dry city and all, I think Ahmedabad has the maximum number of virgins. Although Bali thinks that the festive season makes it otherwise. Oh, and while riding to Ahmedabad I touched a new max speed on my Enfield 350 at 119 kph.

Alright, the next was Bombay – no, not Mumbai – the road from Ahmedabad was awesome and I soon broke away from Sameer and Bali and all of us pretty much rode the whole way alone. People from Bombay would know Yakshay and if you don’t, what a pity. So yes we parked ourselves at his place in Dadar for a night and hogged on the real Bombay pav-bhaji, complete with the durris on the road and the copious amounts of butter on pretty much every-fuckin-thing. Incidentally, diwali was spent on the Worli sea face gazing at kids being hit by rockets.

Final day of riding, and the much talked about and almost sacrosanct Bombay-Goa route was going to be the road less travelled. Got stopped by the thullas on the Pune expressway for bikes weren’t allowed, had to talk ourselves out of that. Then was a pretty uneventful ride till the Ghats started. I was up front with Sameer tucked in behind me and on this one turn I just lost control and the bike almost did a 360 as it skid. As I looked back while skidding I saw Sameer smiling sheepishly as he skid and did a deja vu of my act. There was oil spilled on the road. Got our act together there and then rode till Goa. Was easily one of the more difficult days of riding (Recall Spiti?). And I DID beat a train running all guns blazing Bombay to Goa!

And now, GOA! The first night was spent according to plan on the beach, getting high preceded by eating chinese at this shady sorts of place (Haka fu Chow in Candolim, ask Sameer, he loves the place). After this I do not remember much of the trip on account of my high-ness. Buts yeah, we got Sameer “operated” and blah de blah blah. Alright, I’ve found a rather interesting way of describing the Goa job. I am going to write words that are reminiscent of what that was, even remotely. So, here goes:

Cast, Kingfisher, VM, fish-stink, firangs, more friggin firangs, Rizla, shooting star, sand, crab, Anjuna, Marley, bong, Paololem, Corona xxx, Mum’s Kitchen, Mango Grove, Fisherman’s Cove, Happily Unmarried, KLPD, moolah (or rather, the lack of it), Taj, my Hilfiger spec-case, shorts, tan, red-herring, Yamaha, Kayak, jetski, Curry, haggling, bikinis, bloated Indian moms in them, Tito’s, Margherita Pizza, hot usher-chick, Bali, Sameer, bloated, blue, swimming-pool, Blaze, Fosters and more will be added.

Oh, and coincidentally I’ve got the lowest marks ever in my life this Sem! Us Indians, marks are inconsequential!

Now you know about my boring life what you wish you didn’t?

R.I.P. Jinny.


~ by Shashank Kumar on November 18, 2007.

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