paradise found

Oh my gosh. I suck. I said I would never and I did it again.

I have been gone for too long again. I am not worthy of this blog. I should stop writing. Ha. Sure I will. Just as soon as I throw away all the pink things I own. Which is never. In case you missed the sarcasm.

Ok so the fun thing is I went to heaven and back for the weekend. Yes, I took a bus to Goa on Thursday. Now for those of you who have not heard of Goa, you should be ashamed of yourself. It is the closest you can come to a beachy Paradise. And if you go by the cheap and comfy bus, Paradise is just 12 hours away. We reached early on Friday morning at 6:30am and went straight to the inn we were staying at.

It was at a beach called Baga. This is in the north of Goa, where the locals have an English accent and the beaches are full of white men and women. The young women in bikinis, the men in bermudas and tanned skin, and ironically, and quite sadly, all the aged are naked or in g-strings.

But I say, don't let a little saggy skin get your eyes off the gorgeous beaches, the blue water, the white sand and the fabulous sunsets.

At Baga, we stayed in a little room with three single beds and a small toilet and a balcony that faced a quaint little house, where, during lunch time, the smell of home cooked food wafted out of the little kitchen window.

Goa is also an amazing place to eat. Gorge more like it. Consume large amounts of the world's best food. There is something called a Goan Sausage. It is a long string of pork sausages that are especially flavoured by Goan women. They are pre flavoured so cooking them is no biggie... But the result is divine.

Also, if you go there you have got to taste the goan fish and prawn curries. They have a taste that is unmatched. And what just makes it all so perfect is with every spoon full of Heaven you can dig your toes into the sands of Paradise. There is just something about good food, great weather, a sea view and a cold glass of King's beer. (only brewed in goa)
Yummy.

We rented bikes, well the two boys I was with rented bikes and I was a scrub, hanging out the back seat, letting the wind catch my hair and the sun tan my back.

The boys were on a mission to pick up some foreigner chicks. And I mean serious mission, there was a lot of riding slow while passing some hotties, and stopping to ask some women for directions, who could not speak English and did not know Vagatore Beach from Anjuna Beach, or the back of her hand for that matter.

Of course, after meeting a girl who was very itchy and coughed a lot and kept scratching herself (ewwww is right!!), they gave up...And at my advice, they left her to smoke herself silly. I on the other hand met with a man in a bar, while I was trying to leave, who thought I was Spanish. Now this is not Spanish for a very corny pick up line. I did not fall for it, probably because he wasn't that cute anyway. So that was my male encounter for the weekend.

Oh yea, that is besides sharing the room with two burping, snoring individuals.

We rode to about three different beaches and went to about 5 different shacks in two days. So we were in Goa from Friday morning to Sunday evening.And when my bus chugged out of the city borders my heart sank. I wanna go backand get a house and live like I am on holiday for the rest of my life. But then,doesn't everyone? Everyone I know at least.

What was the best part was that I did not shop. Purely because I was with two anti-shopping people. This is good cause instead of wasting my time on the main road shopping for things I can get in Bombay also, I was at the beach, eating food and sipping beer, that I wouldn't get here. So in short, I have realised-

If you are willing to forgive the burps...- 'tis better to go with boys. Really.

My weekend was fabulous.
To Goa and back - Arrgh, back! Back!
Back to reality.
Jobs. Big shiny toilets.
Crummy food. No sand.
Rickshaw rides.


Paradise Lost.