Slow Goa

The surf flattened down into a nearly ripple-less ocean.  Whole days slowed down laying on the beach, swimming in the ocean, and enjoying the great company of Reut and Mor, our new Isreali friends.  “Where’s your watch today?” they would ask. In the evening, we lit Hanukkah candles before sipping Kingfisher beer on their porch steps.

The young children that helped look after the huts were around all the time, eager to offer anything.  Of course, nothing was ever free.  They’re little businessmen and unfortunately shrewd beyond their years.  On the other hand, the family operating a little store next to our huts was refreshingly genuine.  They served up excellent chai, omelets, and samosas straight to our huts.  Dipali also handled the rickshaws, all in a sweet manner.

Where else but Goa would you have two on-duty policemen and the young Indian lodge owner lock themselves in one of the empty huts, only to emerge later from the smoke-filled shack?  As long as everybody is happy, no one's kicking over beach chairs!

It all went by so fast and we wished we didn’t have to leave so soon.  But better to go before the sunsets don’t seem so amazing.  Happy Birthday Reut (and hope to see you in Tel Aviv).  To Mor – safe travels!