Three in a boat, poverty and dogs. Part 2
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And Alexander is still gone and gone! As it turned out, Agnelo knows him well. When I said that we were waiting for the guide, he exclaimed: "Sashya? " "Sashya, Sashya! " But where is he? Already 11. Agnelo suggested that he was still sleeping. How does it sleep? We have a meeting at 10.45! Well, call him - it's me Agnelo. He pretended to call. Fifteen minutes later, Sashya showed up - a very nice Russian guy. We complained to him that we were being bullied here. After chirping with Agnelo, he told us that if we wanted to, we could keep the second hut for some exorbitant sum. We said no thanks! If we could afford to spend such grandmas, then we would obviously choose another option, and not this shack. Give us a proper mattress and we will calm down. But then the greedy Agnelo began to demand money for the mattress. Allegedly, the host side booked a hut with him through booking, but he was not paid extra for the third one. During the period of our stay, the mattress rental was supposed to be $ 50. And what joy is that? Can he still pay extra for a third glass and a chair? We paid for the tour in full. If it comes to that, we will sleep three of us on the same bed, but as a matter of principle we will not pay for the mattress! Sasha called the Concorde office and gave the phone to the owner. In the end, all our problems collapsed. Sasha tried his best. Realizing that we, due to our poverty, would not take excursions, he took his leave, leaving his viber number. A striking contrast with the Egyptian and Turkish hotel guides! Respect to Concorde and Sasha in particular! But it’s not clear what made Agnelo change his line of behavior so drastically? Why did he decide that you can beat the left money off of us? Considered us some kind of rich, because I gave him a bag with a kilogram of smoked wings, which we did not eat on the plane, and which were a little drunk? We did not dare to eat them and gave them to the owner for the dogs. And the girls from the reception were given a chocolate bar. But we rented the cheapest hut! A whim of crazy millionaires? I did not understand his logic.
But we did not get upset or offended by the owner, this is Goa! We didn't come here for this. The owner's son, together with the girl from the reception, dragged a mattress and squeezed it between the bed and the window. The rookery for Verka is ready! The third chair, as well as the third glass, were also delivered. Having finished with life, we finally went to the beach. The waves were very strong! Not Sri Lanka, but still! After the last time, I thought that there should be no waves in Goa at this time of the year. We went to the edge of the beach closest to us, where the waves were small, because our friend almost drowned as a child and since then she has been swimming with great care. The pile of stones there was just fantastic!
We climbed into the water. I counted on 28 degrees. Figushki - no more than 24-25! So we didn't swim for a long time. Leaving Verka with things to sunbathe, we went to climb the stones.
Having adjusted, we went to the opposite side of the beach. The walk is quite far, 3 km, so on the way we wandered into shek to drink a fresh drink. Having reached the edge, and making sure that the cape there is impregnable, we went home. Having got out on the road, we found a wine shop, bought rum. In another shop bought pineapple and mango. Let's go home. There she asked her son for a password from Wi-Fi. Despite the modesty of the hotel, the wi-fi was free. After having dinner with the delicacies I bought, as well as dried sausage brought from home, after talking with relatives, I ran to the beach to watch the sunset, but I was late.
Oh well, it's not the last one!
While we were having dinner, Verka noticed that the windows were without glass! At that moment I was in the house, and when I heard her remark, I jumped! How about no glass? I thought that they managed to knock them out while we were walking. But everything turned out to be much more prosaic - they were not provided for! The window was just clogged with mosquito net! Great! As for the mosquitoes themselves (as for me, they are ordinary mosquitoes), they appeared only at sunset. Half an hour and they're gone. But during this time, the legs under the table had time to bite, despite the lit stink spiral and the spray that the master's son splashed around. True, the next morning there was not the slightest trace of bites left. Me too, mosquitoes! Yes, our Melekinsky mosquitoes, despite the smaller size, will make you cleaner than these fat people! On the first night, leaving Verka to be eaten, they themselves nested under the canopy. But, as it turned out, there was not the slightest need for him - no one buzzed in our ears. The following nights we just moved it away and slept like that. The main thing is not to let them into the room at sunset. Exhausted by a long flight and a sleepless night, we lay down almost immediately after sunset (at 18.00). It was cold to sleep. We covered ourselves with a sheet and a blanket.
Woke up to the sound of running water. Thought it was raining! Where? It wasn't in the forecast! It turned out that this was the boy who met us yesterday, he is also a night watchman, watering numerous plants in pots installed along the path with a hose. Until it dawned, I decided to go to the beach and do my morning asana complex there. At home, I usually do yoga on weekdays. On weekends and on trips, I can’t do it - I’m busy with other things. But I'm in India! Where else can you do yoga? What could be more romantic - the beach, sunrise! But when I went to the beach, I realized that my idea was not the best. People were already rummaging around there - a couple of tourists with backpacks and an Indian family. Well, figs with them! Let them watch. Decided to move away. But then a flock of dogs followed me. That's hyper-communicative! They do not want anything from you, they are just bored and lack communication! As I walked, they jumped on me, licking my legs and arms. I did my best to ignore them, otherwise I would not get off! I began to fulfill my complex, and the dogs sat at a distance, watching me with interest. In addition to these uninvited viewers, I had another problem. One of the exercises was that you need to rise on tiptoe and, raising your hands up, throw your head back. And, if in a closed room I could do it without difficulty, then in an open space I could not keep my balance! Darn! Having somehow done the rest of the exercises and deciding that this was over with yoga in India, I went home.
Today we decided to go to the nearby town of Chaudi for reconnaissance. To do this, we had to leave the village and walk a couple of kilometers to the highway.
On the way, we noted that there is a vegetable shop on the edge of the village, where prices should be lower. The contrasts were, of course, striking. Along with quite decent and even luxurious houses, there were the most perfect huts. The kids who lived in one of them shouted “Hello! ” to us! and waved their little hands.
Finally, when we reached the highway, we saw a group of local residents, apparently waiting for a bus, which soon arrived. We climbed inside. I gave the conductor a hundred. He gave change of 70 rupees. This means travel by ten (UAH 4). We drove for about 20 minutes. Having left at the bus station, we began to study the signs with the names of places where you can go from here (for the future). Having made a couple of notches in the brain, we went to see the city. On the side of the road we saw a rumbler, on which cane juice is made. We really liked him last time. However, there was no juicer nearby. After trampling for a couple of minutes and not waiting for his appearance, we went on. Turning down one of the streets, we found a fish market. That's what we need!
Like last time, we brought a kettle and an aluminum pot for boiling shrimp with us. In addition, I read on the forum that people manage to cook fish on coals. Coal, ostensibly, can be bought somewhere. Just in case, we brought foil from home, but we haven’t looked at the fish yet. Finding an aunt who had shrimp, they paid her the 200 rupees she demanded for a bunch. Another aunt had a handful already worth 100 rupees. Bought from her too. After leaving the market, go the other way. Town, miserable. But we found a supermarket! We bought a pack of cashews there, tea bags with the proud name of Taj Mahal, ground coffee for Verka, who cannot imagine her life without him, and cola for her to dilute rum - she can’t drink pure, you see. There was also a shelf with aroma sticks, which Vadka and I simply adore and burn tons of in the country. They cost here three or four times cheaper than you can buy in Mariupol. But the packaging is completely different. We bought one package, believing that we were not here for the last time and we would still have time to stock up in a serious way.
Since there was nothing to see there, and the shrimp could not wait, we quickly returned to the bus station. The ratchet still didn't work. The bus we needed was already standing, but there were no more seats. We're in. The locals made room and we also sat down. Nice, however! People were arriving, and the bus soon started moving.
Have you ever traveled in a hot summer in a crowded minibus? Are you familiar with the mixture of aromas hovering there? So, despite the obvious poverty of the vast majority of the passengers on this bus, I did not smell any smell of sweat, fumes and tobacco, or any other unpleasant odors. And one more observation. Almost all young people, even more than modestly dressed, have hefty phones. Either they cost a penny there, or show-offs are not alien to young Indians at all.
We cooked shrimp at home and went to the beach. Previously, I ran to the wineshop and bought my friends two cans of beer, and myself a pack of pineapple juice. The prawns were ordinary king prawns, which are sold in our supermarkets, the only thing that is fresh. And some copies came across very impressive. Having dealt with the shrimps, the two of us again went to climb the stones. This time we managed to climb even further.
Then we climbed along the rivulet, which flowed into the sea from this side.
Crocodiles were not found. Boredom! We decided to go look for another beach - Kola, which is supposedly just a couple of kilometers from the village. On the way we stopped for lunch in Maya. They took momoshki again, but with a different filling. I ate hot sauce much more boldly. Uhhh! Further beyond Maya, the village stretched for another kilometer. Bought drinking coconut. Verka took a couple of sips - she did not like it. I say - drink, Vera! It cleanses the body well!
We crossed the bridge over the river that flowed from the northern end of the beach.
There was a haven for fishing boats. Fish and shrimp were also dried there. The road went uphill. Verka lagged behind, we had to wait for her. There were houses and cottages on both sides of the road. Something rustled in the bushes. I went to see what was there. And how a herd of small pigs will rush from me! Funny! Some kind of vaguely familiar grass grew on the roadsides. I touched it with my finger, and it folded its leaves. This is a shy mimosa, or whatever its name is, which is shown in the Batumi botanical garden as a kind of miracle! Here it grew everywhere as a weed.
However, we have come a long way. And then Verka's stomach twisted. And there is nowhere to go! I saw some ashes and rushed there. For a while, she was let go. Seeing a couple of peasants talking, I turned to them with a question, where is Cola Beach? The elderly man asked again: “Colva? ” The young man began to say something to him, and he told me that there were still 5 kilometers to Kola. Wow! I had to return.
Indian children are so cute!
I made it to sunset today!
Verkin's stomach turned out to be all right, no poisoning, which we first thought about. It’s just that, according to her, she took my words too close to her heart (or not to her heart, but vice versa) that coconut milk cleanses the intestines well.
The next day, they had breakfast at home with coffee and tea prepared using a boiler, cookies brought from home, and eggs bought the day before in the village, and boiled with their own hands using the same boiler. We decided to dedicate this day to Palolem. We went back to the track. On the way we met a herd of cows wandering into the village. When everyone had already passed and disappeared around the bend, we heard the sound of hooves - a lagging heifer was rushing at full speed, like a horse, catching up with relatives. How we cried! How can they get fat here, if they are worn, as they say? I also really wanted to try their milk, although I have not drunk it for many years. So many cows! There must be some milk here! Opposite a vegetable shop on the outskirts, I saw a house where locals came up with cans. I also approached, hoping that they were also selling for a glass. But they asked me for a bottle. I didn't have a bottle. I'll come another time.
Today we arrived at the stop a little later than yesterday, but there were people, and the bus came pretty quickly. But packed full. We told the conductor that we were going to Palolem. We were dropped off at the fork and we, together with the local population, wandered towards the sea. I had to walk a kilometer or two. Having gone to the beach, we decided not to linger on it yet - we had already seen it before, but to go further south, inspect other beaches.
Next was the little rocky beach of Colombes where we found this! What kind of fish was that?
And behind it is the rather large and sandy beach of Putnam.
After passing it and going around the hill, they left Verka to guard the junk, and they themselves went further. On the way, obviously our people began to come across - it was impossible to confuse their religion (ours, by the way, too). I was surprised, because there were only one or two Russians on Agonda and there were not many. Quite far from the water was a row of sun loungers. Looking closer, I saw a table with striped towels. And then I remembered that the super-duper Lalit Hotel is located here. Behind the dune, however, he was not visible at all. That's where there are so many of them! This beach was called Rajbag. Nothing special. In the south, it is limited by the Talpona River, which we ran into.
Let's go back. There were many oyster shells on the beach. I wonder if they are found here or at the hotel they are served for breakfast, lunch and dinner?
After picking up Verka and things, we returned to Palolem the same way. It was time to refresh. We did not go to shek on the shore, knowing from experience that it is more expensive there. Instead, we chose a cafe on a shopping street perpendicular to the beach. It was called almost the same as our Agondin one - Maya's. I don’t know who this Maya is, but the woman, you see, is rich, since she has so many cafes! This time we chose a dish that is also close to our cuisine (well, not quite ours) - the local biryani pilaf. Due to the fact that there are already three of us, we decided to take different dishes and then change. Verka took it with shrimp, I ordered a vegetarian one for Vadka, and for myself I poked my finger at a word I didn’t know. The boy who served us spoke good English, but did not speak Russian at all. I asked who is it from? He thought and thought about how to explain to me, and bleated. Yep, lamb! Bring it! He hesitated and said that chicken pilaf is better. I said I don't like chicken. Bring from the lamb! The boy left, having previously specified how many spices we should lay down. Lie down, but only a little. And then Vadik asked me a question, have I seen at least one ram here? I didn't see it though! But I saw a goat. Apparently, that word meant a goat.
We brought our fresh juices, tomato soup ordered additionally by Vadik, and biryani bowls. We knew right away that we would get fat and die young! The portions were huge. The goat was frankly harsh, but this type of pilaf still seemed to me the most delicious. Not having mastered even half, they asked the boy to pack it with him. After that, they dragged their paunches to the other end of the beach.
On our previous visit, we had to overcome the flowing river almost up to the neck in water and with things on our heads. And now the water is gone, and did not even reach the knee. Faith, as always, remained, and we went to climb stones.
Then they wanted to get to the island behind the strait, but firstly, there was a mud and slippery stones, and secondly, they saw that there were locked gates on the other side. I read that someone recently seized the island, and they are not allowed to enter it.
It was time to go home. Having reached the fork, they began to wait for the bus. I naively thought that they go here every five minutes, like from Colva to Margao. Yep, right now! In previous times, we, apparently, were just lucky and we got to a stop at the right time. There was no one other than us. After waiting fifteen minutes, we decided to drink juice in a cafe across the road. The fries were very good, and the price was pleasant. Only now the owner did not have change from five hundred. Didn't trade for the whole day! Then I went to a nearby shop selling expensive cheeses and bought a piece of parmesan. At home, a local porter was waiting for us, why not buy cheese for it? The change given to me for juice was still not enough. Then I went back to the store, took my pyatihatka, instead of it I gave a thousand, and asked for change from it. Still, something didn't work. The owner of the jusik came and brought me change, but 50 rupees were missing. Said he'd give it back tomorrow. Handsome! I said that we are not local, let him give back today. Then he borrowed from the cheese tycoon and we parted at last. Here's the trickster! Thought I'd give him a hard-earned fifty dollars! While I was doing bullshit, the bus came and went. And the next one, as the uncle on the motorcycle explained to me, will be in 20 minutes. Well, now, wait! We are not at home, it was still fun to watch the local life. Our friendly laughter was caused by the machine, which, when moving back, issued a melody, like on children's toys.
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