Road Trip to Goa

We hadn't really planned a trip to Goa. We had just wanted to spend a few days out of Mangalore...my wife and I...., and on a cool January morning with our bags loaded into the boot of our good old M800, and the tank filled to the brim we had reached the highway yet to decide on a destination. Ruling out east because of bad roads, we had to choose between going north or south....and finally the toss of a coin settled the matter. North it was. And so north we went, not aiming for any particular town or city...just hoping for good roads, interesting sights and a comfortable stay at any town at the end of the day. Most probably Karwar.

Driving along the scenic coastal highway NH 17 from Mangalore towards Karwar and Goa was truly a wonderful experience. We had started off on the highway...at around 8 a.m. The weather just perfect...sunny yet cool enough, deep blue skies and the brilliant greenery of the coastal route interspersed with numerous bridges on rivers that flow into the sea.

We passed through Udupi, Coondapur, Bhatkal, Honnaver,... pausing now and then to explore a track or two leading off the highway; the roads were good, traffic sparse and except for the lumbering tanker trailers that held on to the middle of the road driving was relaxed and fun and the 800 lapped up the road steadily. At Kumta we stopped for lunch and in half an hour we were back on the road. Small towns named Ankola and Aversa and Binaga went by and before we knew it we were passing the Naval base and rounding the hilly bend to see Karwar spread out before us. And it was just 4 p.m. So after tea we decided to cross the Sadhashivgad bridge and pop into the state of Goa...just to have a little peek, spend sometime till the sun went down before turning back to Karwar for the night. So onward we went on the NH 17 past Polem and Loliem the road now turning off the coast and narrowing a little; now winding up and down through lush green silent forests leaving behind the open tracts. Passing through places named Marshem and Poinguinim; a quick dart to the right off the NH17 to a temple named Mallikarjun and back again onto the highway, then through Canacona where the road turned back and ran parallel to the coast again. Just as we thought we'd turn back we saw a milestone that said Margao 10 km. We looked at each other. Just 10 km? What were we turning back for?

So, on we went through the palm fringed villages and before long were slowing down to flow with the thickening stream of traffic that seemed to appear from nowhere to suggest we were nearing a city. And soon we were in Margao, a curving flyover taking us right into the centre. It was 6.30 p.m. and the cacophony of bumper to bumper, side by side rush hour traffic greeted us. Cars, trucks and buses packed into every square inch of road and whatever space was available in between taken by scooters and bikes of all types. All roaring to a start in unision at every green light and screeching to a stop at every red. Caught in this madness, trying to find our way about we circled the Municipal Garden three times before we could swing into a petrol bunk to escape the din, pause to sort out our bearings and ask for directions to any good hotel. Three hotels were recommended, bang in the city centre but funnily none of the three had any parking space of their own. Parking space was supposed to be anywhere on the road but not an inch of space seemed to be available. Circling some more we finally found some space a quarter of a kilometre away and I had to trudge up to the hotel only to learn that all hotels were booked for three full days....some convention or something in town. So back I trudged to the car.

It was already dark as we figured out our options. We had none. Spotting a middle aged Goan couple emerging from a shop I approached them for suggestions. And pat came the enthusiastic advice -'Go to Colva! It's just three kilometres away'. The good natured couple reeled off names of numerous hotels and the range of cuisine they offered. 'You'll find hotel after hotel after hotel along the beach. From Five star to the ordinary. Nothing much to see here in Margao anyway. No point in staying here. People come here only for the beaches'

Heeding their advice, we turned towards Colva...and they were right. There were any number of hotels. We chose a modest resort with cottages and a garden restaurant that overlooked the beach and after a sumptuous dinner of Goan seafood we ambled along the brightly lit street lined with stalls selling everything from handicrafts to beads and trinkets. Foot thumping music blared from neon lit streetside restaurants filled with mostly foreign tourists. The air was filled with laughter and revelry.

As we turned in for the night to the booming sound of the sea barely outside the cottage door we heartily agreed - it was a very good decision to carry on up to Goa. And perhaps the next day we could carry on further north upto Panjim.

Early next morning before breakfast we were at the beach. It was exhilarating. The first rays of the rising sun threw long shadows across the sands. Small groups of tourists in shorts and T-shirt strolled around, cameras clicking away. Fishing boats could be seen out at sea.

After breakfast we checked out of the resort and explored the whole of Colva and Benaulim villages. The quiet lanes and by lanes meandered through the dense greenery with old Portuguese styled villas showing up through the foliage now and then. The quietness only broken at times by the sound of a motorbike or two mostly ridden by foreign tourists eagerly exploring the sights. Motorbikes were available for hire in Goa for tourists.

We finally ended up at Majorda beach at midday with the sun now a little too fierce for comfort. Utorda, Arossim, Velsao and Bogmalo beaches lay further north. Deciding to head for Panjim we paused for lunch at a wayside garden restaurant. After a great meal which included the famous Goan Chicken Vindaloo (which is mouth watering... and eye watering as well) we hit the highway NH 17 again. After half an hour along the straight road we came upon the Zuari river and bridge. A signpost said Vasco da Gama, to the left. Waving to some security personnel manning the bridge we queried 'how far?'pointing to the signpost. 'Within 18 kms' was the reply.

We contemplated. Shouldn't take us more than an hour to have a quick look and be back on the highway to Panjim. We turned left and sped along the picturesque Zuari to Vasco. On the way we spotted two small steel shipyards, right beside the road, near Chicalim. One looked to be building a small cruise ship of maybe 60 to 80 Metres in length and the other looked to be a barge. A little ahead a church stood on a small island in the middle of the river with a narrow strip of road connecting it to the bank. We continued straight to Vasco. The road to the airport at Dabolim passed by to the left.

Vasco seemed more of a bustling seaport than a tourist spot. Here too as in all over Goa we got to see a few buildings of Portuguese heritage. We headed straight for the Mormugoa port. A hilltop viewpoint provided a panoramic view of the harbour with the berthed ships below; huge ore handling machinery and cranes lay sprawled all over the wharf. Across the harbour in the distant afternoon haze we could see a tip of Panjim jutting out into the sea. Tugboats, pilot boats, iron ore carrying barges and other harbour craft plied the waters looking tiny from up here.

Going back, through Vasco and then onto the highway we crossed the Zuari bridge towards Panjim. Now the NH 17 was getting crowded with heavy vehicles of all types, ...from container trucks to car carrying trailers to tanker trailers to trucks carrying logs or heavy machinery or gigantic coils of steel. Weaving through this roaring, slow moving, and heavily loaded procession of smoke spewing monsters we made it to Panjim at around 4 p.m., turning left near the Mandovi Bridge. The road running beside the Mandovi River took us around the curving north western edge of Panjim straight to Miramar where the river joins the sea. At the end one road leads atop the hill to the Cabo Raj Bhavan and another slopes down to Dona Paula on the other side.

Looking for accommodation here again in Panjim was disappointing. It was the weekend and every hotel was booked up to Monday. Finally, after hours of searching around the many one way streets of Panjim we managed to find one back near the Miramar beach.

Walking along the promenade by the river after sunset was pleasant. On one side brightly lit cruiseboats with tourists could be seen on the river. On the other, the glittering lights of the Panjim riverfront.We came upon an excellent restaurant named 'Mum's Kitchen' where we enjoyed some authentic Portuguese and Goan cuisine.

The next day we headed straight towards Old Goa - to the famous Church of St.Francis Xavier, then further on to the Manguesh Temple near Ponda. Before returning to Panjim in the afternoon we crossed the Mandovi Bridge and took the road towards Calangute and the Fort Aguada. Fort Aguada is a huge fort with a lighthouse built atop a rocky summit by the Portuguese in 1612. Just below and under the fort is the prison. Just after the fort towards the north lie the beaches of Sinquerim, Candolim. Calangute, Baga, etc.,...some ten different beaches (out of the twenty eight or more in Goa) extending upto Querim and the Tiracol river at the border. At sinquerim beach we saw a lot of watersports on offer for tourists; from parasailing to water scooters, wind surfing to speed boating. Except for scuba diving all kinds of watersports were available on these beaches towards the north. Scuba diving was available, I'd heard, at Bogmalo (Mormugoa) and Miramar (Panjim.)

On the way back when entering Panjim, just after sunset we noticed a huge three decked wooden dinner cruise boat all lit up and waiting for tourists at a jetty. As we bought tickets the manager explained to us that this was the largest wooden dinner cruise boat in India and perhaps in Asia. It certainly was large and of solid vintage architecture and aptly named the 'Noah's Ark'. We spent an hour's leisurely ride on the Mandovi right on the open top deck; to the clink of glass and china, the strains of soft western 70's music and the lights of the city passing by. It was truly magical! A sentiment also echoed by a fellow passenger ...an elderly Dutch gentleman. 'My wife and I come to Goa every year without fail!' he claimed. We had both left our tables to stand by the railing to watch a heavily laden iron ore barge, struggling to overtake us, engine roaring, not ten feet away. In the dim light within the wheelhouse of the barge the captain looked up and waved as his boat made it's way inch by inch past us, to slowly disappear into the darkness.

As we drove back to the hotel we couln't help but wish for some more days in Goa, for there were yet many many more places to see and experience. But as we were to leave the following day we could only promise ourselves to return again to cover all that we had left out.....all of North, East and South Goa, the bird sanctuaries, the wild life sanctuaries, the waterfalls. Perhaps another trip, a well planned one though, should be worth it.... the next year!