Looking forward to hearing all about your trip Goooroooo

I doubt you'll bore anyone Gooorooo, I too look forward to reading more...The post you made was a great teaser...

Van

We want to hear the rest Gooorooo, you have our attention now so don't stop !!!!!!!!

Mike

Note: I mention prices a lot in this journal. I thought it would be useful for anyone trying to plan their spending. Also, you will find several comparisons to Turkey as that's where we've spent most of our holidays. Also, I quite often switch between the present and past tenses as sometimes I was writing as events were happening, and sometimes I was writing after the fact. Apologies for any confusion, but I can't be bothered to go through it all to correct the grammar!

Weds 2nd Feb
The dog was dropped off at the sitter's house the night before so the house felt rather empty. The cats hung around all morning, aware that something unusual was happening and desperate for a last bit of fuss before we deserted them for 10 days. The cab arrived at 9.30 and we locked up the house, leaving behind our laptops and mobile phones, determined to escape from work. John, the cabbie, talked incessantly for two hours - covering everything from alcoholism to Romans. We arrived at Gatwick and were slightly surprised to find that check in for our flight was already open - four hours before departure. We're always early for flights - hubby is paranoid about missing them. We skipped through security into departures in record time and made our way to a bookshop where we spent a mighty £74 on books and magazines and some pear drops. A Kindle feels like it might be a good investment! A quick trip to Boots to buy some toothpaste and alcohol hand gel (I recommend you take this, it came in very handy) and we popped into duty free to buy some perfume. Then up to the Lloyds Bar for lunch - burger for me, English breakfast for him - and before we knew it we were off to gate 52 to board. As we'd upgraded to Premium Economy, we were amongst the first people on the plane and we settled down to check out the in-flight entertainment. 9 hours is a long time on a flight. Plenty of gin and tonics, red wine and films helped to pass the time though. The food was even bearable.

Thurs 3rd Feb
5.50 Goan time the plane touched down at Dabolim airport. Other passengers fought their way off the plane and we held back - not willing to have a bunfight in order to disembark. Shuttle buses arrived to take us to the terminal and again there was a surge of people to get on them. We boarded on the last bus and once inside the building, dutifully lined up for passport control. The amusing thing about Dabolime is the amount of people who check your passport as you walk through. At least half a dozen in various corridors. Finally, landing cards accepted and passports returned, we went through to luggage reclaim and grabbed our cases off the carousel. One final check of our passports as we left the airport and handed in our customs slips and we were outside in the heat, and the chaos. "Taxi, taxi" was the majority of the morning chorus. Hubby went off to find our package tour rep to let her know we'd be making our own way to the hotel and we headed over to the taxi kiosk. 850 rupees to Candolim. Our cases were whisked out of our hands and we marched behind the porter and driver towards the carpark. I was bundled into the back of the car as our luggage was stuffed into the boot and I nudged hubby to tip the porter. He gave him 10 rupees, which the porter was not that happy with. When I pointed out he'd given him about 12p he dug around in his pockets and handed over a £2 coin. Porter happy, we shut the doors and set off on our first journey across Goa. The sun was rising as we got our first glimpses of India and its wildlife - we spotted a stork and an eagle during our taxi ride, and our course lots of cows and dogs! Our driver, Raymond, could tell immediately that we'd never been to Goa before. He and his friend Abdul, who seemed to be just along for the ride, chattered away, occasionally stopping to ask where we were from and to chant "Goa is clean and green" at regular intervals. The scenery in Goa is breathtaking and it was an interesting journey through several towns, with several near misses with other cars. The horn is king on Goan roads. Having safely arrived at our hotel, the Silver Sands, we tipped the driver £5 and were greeted by the room boys. Tipping is something we have yet to master as there's not really any guidance as to what is acceptable. Our driver told us he earns 3,600 rupees a month, and we'd just tipped him about 400. We checked in and were taken up to our lovely, spacious room. It was very much what we expected - basic, but airy and spotlessly clean. The air conditioning worked and we put that on while we unpacked our cases. Then hubby ran down to reception to buy some water and was told they'd bring it up to our room. 40 rupees for 2 bottles, and a 40 rupee tip for the room boy - we really don't have a clue what we're doing on the money front. We decided to sleep for a couple of hours as neither of us had managed to on the flight, so we settled down in our very large, very firm bed and drifted off.

Three hours later I forced myself out of bed and into the shower and then we headed down to the beach. It was 12.30 so the hottest part of the day and we very quickly realised that everyone spotted us as newcomers to due to our lack of tans! We settled down at The Big Blue Shack for a few drinks, then headed to the water's edge and strolled towards the River Princess, the ship that has run aground just off the beach. We decided to stop at Francisco's Shack as it wasn't as crowded as some of the others and found a couple of sunbeds. Water ordered and towels laid out it was time to try a dip in the sea and boy, was it fantastic! Like swimming in a warm bath. An hour or so later our tummies were complaining of negligence so we headed into the shack for a couple of cheese toasties and a beer. Laying on that beach on the first day was a revelation. Indians tramped up and down the beach selling fruit, ice-cream, maps, jewellery, tattoos, massages, books, dvds, nuts and crisps. As obvious newcomers we were prime targets, although with a firm "no thank you" most of them left us alone. One girl though sat down at our sunbeds and had a long discussion with us about raising her three children and then wouldn't take no for an answer when she tried to sell us her jewellery. We stood firm and after many exclamations of "I'm poor, you are making my day terrible" she eventually left us alone. The afternoon drifted by and we watched dogs chase cows off the beach, and beach sellers bribing the local officials. Total relaxation. As our wise taxi driver had said, "Ah, first time to Goa eh? You will come every year now, yes?" and that afternoon we agreed it was very possible that we would. We sat and watched the sun go down whilst sipping cold Kingfishers at the shack, then made our way back to the hotel for a shower and a change of clothes.

Candolim really comes alive at night. A cacophony of moped and car horns greeted us as we wandered down Beach Road. The shops, which had been closed when we arrived early that morning, were not brightly lit and displaying their wares. It reminded me of Turkey - bright neon lights and shopkeepers stood outside to welcome you in. But there is far less hassle in Goa, no one dragging you by the arm into the restaurants. We stopped at an opticians and bought hubby a new pair of glasses. Haggling the optician down from £75 to £65. Then we crossed the street and headed upstairs to The Curry House. The menus in Goa are huge - too many choices - but we selected a king prawn sizzler, chicken do piaza and a couple of naan breads, washed down with a beer, a G&T and some water. 800 rupees. To be honest, we weren't that impressed with the food but as we'd nothing to compare it to it was difficult to know if this was typical of Goan restaurants (edit: This was the worst meal we ate in our whole time in Goa so it was a pity it was on our first night!) Tired and in need of a rest, we headed back to the hotel for a night cap and an early night.

It's great to read the impression Goa makes on a first timer, looking forward to many more episodes

xx lassi

Friday 4th Feb
Our alarm went off at 7am but we were awake much earlier - the chorus of birds singing and dogs barking being a mice nice alarm call than our mobile phone. We left 100 rupees for the room boys on our bed and then went down to reception where we were told "it's too early". "Too early for what?" I enquired. "For EVERYTHING!" exclaimed the man on the reception desk. We had our passports returned to us and slipped them into our safety deposit box. It was at this point that we discovered the little padlock we'd brought for the deposit box didn't fit so we've just hoping the staff are honest and nothing goes missing. Walking down to the beach was a much more pleasant experience at 8am than it had been at lunchtime the previous day. We went back to Francisco's Shack and ordered French toast, and omelette and some fruit with coffee and some freshly squeezed orange juice. Fending off fruit sellers and newspaper boys, we settled down on a couple of sunbeds so that I could write in my journal and then read my book, Eat Pray Love. I recommend it if you're travelling to India as the country features in it. There is a passage in the book that talks about noticing the passing of time and how, as people, we learn to not reflect on mortality all the time or we'd be depressed and anxious permanently. This passage mentions how an autistic patient laments that today is 4th February and it won't be 4th Feb for another year. Perhaps I should take it as a sing that I'm *reading* that passage on 4th Feb. Maybe it is a sign that India is where I need to be right now. I know this sounds like a load of metaphysical ramblings - read the book and you'll understand.

I bought a sarong today for the princely sum of 250 rupees. It nearly caused a riot as another seller, Cilla ("like Cilla Black") caught me buying it. "But Saaaaraaaaaah," she cried "I ASKED you to buy, tsk, now I am poor. You will buy tomorrow, yes?" I tried making non-commital noises, but "maybe" is not a popular word in Goa. Similarly Sanjay ("mad English swimming, too cold, isn't it?") a small boy in a football shirt, made me promise to buy strawberries from him tomorrow. Lunch was not as much of a success was breakfast. The cheese toasties which were lovely yesterday were a lardy fried sandwich today (edit: we discovered if you asked for a grilled cheese sandwich you get one made in a breville, but if you ask for a toasted sandwich you get cheese in fried bread!). I ordered chicken tikka nd a naan. The bread was nice but the chicken tikka was NOT chicken tikka and I had to force myself to eat some of it to be polite. Dipped in a sweet, sticky, sour, spicy sauce it was totally revolting and I left most of it. A gorgeous, tiny girl was working the beach with her mother selling "chips" which are yellow, hollow tubes - much like prawn crackers but without the prawn. I bought a bag of these from the child and was given a small paper cone of peanuts and a kiss as an extra gift. 50 rupees well spent. Where we sat on the beach is heavenly. You can almost people you are the only people there. Certainly our shack is not one of the busiest. Francis (owner of Francisco's? Who knows?!) is friendly and keeps trying to sell us trips to the waterfall, spice plantation and night market. We do plan to take him up on the night market offer but prefer to get a cab for the spice plantation. I realised today that the shack has a caged parrot! It whistles very convincingly. At around 4 o clock we said our goodbyes to the shack boys, paying our bill and leaving our towels for the next day. Marching back across the soft, dry sand is a killer on your calves, so I sank onto our newly made-up bed with a sigh of relief. We had showers and changed for the evening.

While I was drying my hair (which takes AGES), hubby went for a stroll to check out a couple of the tailors. He changed some money at the hotel reception and was told by a couple of other guests that he'd get a better exchange rate at a shop around the corner, next to the spice stall. We headed out for dinner at Infernos and HURRAH, the food was great! Hubby had the mixed grill and I had the mixed seafood platter. It was my first taste of king fish, which I liked, and the most ENORMOUS tiger prawns. We finished dinner with a couple of brandies and wandered down the road to revisit the tailors hubby had been to earlier. After a bi of haggling, we bought a linen shirt and a black tie shirt for hubby - £30 for the pair. We go back on Monday to collect them as they are being made to fit him. Quite a few power cuts that night - must remember to take the torch out. We went back to the hotel for a few drinks and had a chat with Sam (Shailesh), the night receptionist. Then we thought we'd better head down to the beach to check out the shacks at night. Lots of pretty fairy lights and lanterns were lit and we walked along the water's edge to Francisco's, which disappointingly was closed. So, we headed back and stopped at Bobby's Shack. We liked it there, but got a bit fed up of constantly being asked to buy things "handbags, sandals, Sunday roast" by the shack boys. We got our first taste of "happy birthday" Goan style at Bobby's. And ENDLESS chorus of the tune followed by the birthday boy wandering around and shoving a piece of cake in everyone's mouth. At around midnight we went back to the hotel for a night cap and bumped into the couple hubby had met at reception earlier. We got a telling off from them for tipping too much "don't over tip or they'll expect it all the time". Erm, it's our money, we'll tip as much as we like thanks! If anything we are more concerned that we are under tipping rather than over tipping. At around 1 o clock we called it a night and went off to bed.

Saturday 5th Feb
Wow it's HOT! We slept a little longer than planned this morning and finally tumbled out of bed at around 10am. We handed over our key into reception and walked across the hot sand to Francisco's. Breakfast was pineapple and French toast and we even got a smile out of the shack boys this morning! Bought another sarong today, along with a battered looking pen. The other beach sellers complained loudly that I was breaking their hearts. I would love to buy from all of them, but where do you draw the line? One of the girls, Julie, tells me that she is fifteen, one of nine children, and has been working the beach since she was nine. Her older sisters are married and when I suggest she is next to be married off she scrunches up her nose and replies she would rather work on the beach than for a husband and that Indian men are no good. We get chatting to the couple sitting next to us - as they donate the remains of their lunch to two tiny boys selling bracelets. We spend the rest of the afternoon soaking up the sun then go back to the hotel to change. We've arranged to met Leo, a taxi driver and uncle of Francis from the shack.

At 8pm he arrives and off we go to the night market. As we drive through Calangute I realise how much quieter and more compact Candolim is. Leo drops us off at the gates to the market and tells us he'll meet us back there in two hours. As we enter the stalls and start weaving our way through the market cries of "Madam, just looking, come on" greet us. We begin our purchases by haggling for a leather money box shaped like an elephant and add a wooden Ganesh and a brass Ganesh to our collection. I spot a sandals stall and stand and admire them when the girl on the stall approaches me. III lament the fact that I have huge fat feet - size 8 in UK sizes, and that he shoes won't fit me. "But madam," she says, "I have huge sizes, isn't it?" She slips a pair of sandals on my feet and they are the most comfortable things I have ever worn. She declares the price to be 1500 rupees, and I kick off the sandals and walk away saying that I'm not that rich. "Come back madam!" cries the girl as she grabs my arm, "what price do you pay?" "Hmm" I ponder, "300?" "No no no these are leather!" she exclaims. "Yes leather, not gold!" I replied and she bursts out laughing. Instantly she halves her price to 750 rupees and we finally settle at 600. Hubby haggles at another stall for a leather bound notebook with hand made paper - 1500 rupees down to 400, and we stop for a beer in the food court for a few minutes. As we head out of the market we spot a stall selling pretty glass lanterns which you can put tealights in and hang from trees. "1000 rupees each" says the stall holder. We do the usual act of pretending to be shocked and eventually buy three - for a total cost of 700 rupees. We stop to take a photo and hubby asks another tourist to take our picture. Unfortunately the man speaks no English as he's Russian, but we manage to get by on sign language.

We decide we've had enough and head back to the gates and then realise we're half an hour too early for our driver. Other drivers ask if we need a taxi and we tell them we already have one, but that we're too early to meet him. They ask which hotel we are staying at and from that realise that they know our driver and call him on their mobile for us. We've give them a tip of 100 rupees, which he looks rather surprised about, and Leo bounds over and directs us to his car. We ask Leo which restaurant he recommends and he suggests Alexandra's so we ask him to stop there. We've discovered that ordering meals in Goa is a bit of a lottery. The menus have the names of the dishes, but rarely explain what they are. This was never more true than of tonight's dinner. We ordered the specials - lamb chops for hubby and surf and turf for me. 8 lamb chops turned up and what I thought would be a few prawns and a bit of steak turned out to be a whole lobster, a steak, a huge plate of chips and a salad. I donated my chips to hubby and had a meal mostly of meat. By this time it was nearly midnight so we went back to the hotel. Realising all the staff were at the bosses' daughter's wedding we didn't stop for a drink - although Sam, the night receptionist, managed to produce a couple of beers and brought them up to the room.

Now I know why the peanut sellars hate me when I pay 10rps for 5 packets of peanuts and the same for a packet of crisps.

Sam I think it's quite likely the shops and beach sellers realised very quickly we were new to Goa and we paid over the odds for a lot of things. But I got very tired of haggling after a while so I think we probably could have got better prices if we'd tried harder.

Sunday 6th Feb
More of the same today. Breakfast and lunch at the shack - hubby tried kingfish for the first time and liked it. We sat and wrote our postcards - though of course, forgot to post them. We listened to the parrot, who does very good impressions of a barking dog and of the local large black birds (which are possibly rooks, crows or jackdaws, I'm not really sure). Sanjay, the cheeky strawberry seller, eventually got his wish as we bought a punnet from him for 100 rupees. And Cilla & Julie also made a sale as I bought two sets of jewellery boxes for the girls at home who are feeding our cats - for 250 rupees each (edit: I realise the prices we paid for the fruit and the boxes were expensive, but we didn't realise that at the time). They also got a bottle of pop each and finished off our strawberries. Plenty of swimming and we both, finally caught the sun. On the way back to the hotel we came across the laundry cart - pulled by two sleepy looking oxen.

In the evening, we took a stroll up to Rising Waves restaurant, on recommendation from Holiday Truths The food was lovely - chicken tikka followed by apple pie for me and red snapper followed by strawberries for hubby. But the service was dreadful! So so so slow - it took nearly two hours in total. It was the cheapest meal we'd had by far at under 1000 rupees for both of us and they only got about a 40 rupee tip which is so unlike us as we usually tip really well, but the service was so diabolical. The heat was really suffocating and we both felt really drained and tired, so we had a drink at a bar by the hotel and headed back for some sleep.

Monday 7th Feb
We had hoped to go the waterfall and spice plantation today, but apparently there is a road blockade to protest about high petrol prices so we thought it best to save the trip for another day. The dreaded delhi belly hit us both this morning - the less said about that the better I think. We skipped breakfast, settling for coffee and water in the hope that it might settle our tummies. Hot again today and we're glad that we headed to the beach before 10am as as the day heats up the sand is unbearable to walk on in bare feet. Hubby tried his luck at waterskiing. A few days ago he went out on a jet-ski and returned with massive blisters on his hands, but today's waterskiing efforts left him unscathed. Lots more Russians at the shack today and although they can come across as cheerless and rude, they are at least very quiet meaning it is a peaceful day on the beach. The wind has picked up, cloaking a deceptively hot sun and hubby's head is starting to resemble a beacon! We had a really simple lunch and one of the stray dogs came over for a stroke and drank water out of my hands. We decide to go back to the shack for dinner so go off to the hotel room to shower and sleep.

Hubby heads into town to pick up his new glasses and shirts - which fit perfectly. I scrape my hair back into a ponytail and we stroll back to the beach. The shack is lit up by lanterns and we don't bother with a menu, instead settling for the catch of the day - King fish - and salad. I steal some of hubby's beer to make a shandy with my 7 up and we play cards with the shack boys. We teach them blackjack and shithead. They teach us brag. We discover their names are Marvin and Siegmund and that the stray dogs are not strays at all, but owned by the shack - Dolly, Tommy, Blackie and Brownie. Francis tells us that they've only had the parrot a month - it was caught in a local coconut tree. Considering the short time they've had it it is mastering impressions very quickly! At about 11pm we say goodbye and the shack's owner and Francis' dad, Martin, gives us a big bag of oranges and grapes to take with us. We traipse back towards the hotel, using the small torch we brought with us to light the way. As we approach, a cow ambles down the road and stops to let us pass. Hubby holds out some grapes and she munches them straight out of his hand. He tries to be lazy and give her a whole bunch, but she knows better and lets it falls to the ground in order to eat each grape off the stalk. One of the hotel boys - Ajay, with the squeaky voice - brings a few beers up to our room and we go off to sleep in our rock hard bed.

Many thanks for your report

I am loving reading this report

hahaha the censor caught the name of the card game. Hmmm it's called poo-head (another word for that, four letters starting with S)

Tues 8th Feb
More swimming and sunbathing at Francisco's. Our umbrella decide it had a life of its own and flew away in the afternoon winds! There seemed to be an unnecessary amount of older men wearing thong swimming trunks. Why? I don't understand why anyone needs a brown arse, it's not as if they'll be showing them off at work, or maybe they do - I dread to think. I bought a mango ice lolly from one of the ice-cream sellers who made me promise faithfully never to buy ice-cream from anyone else. Today I witnessed something awful. Two of the beach sellers - girls selling cheap jewellery and sarongs - sat on one of the shack's sunbeds. One of the shack boys came over to shout at them and when they refused to leave he hit one of them around the head. I was so shocked - and shamefully I said nothing, which I am not proud about. I felt it probably wasn't my place to get involved. Hubby was sleeping and didn't see it so when I told him about it later he said it was a pitty he didn't see or he would've told the boy it was wrong to hit women. I'm not sure that would make much difference. Women here are definitely regarded as second rate citizens and the beach sellers are viewed with disdain by everyone.

We went back to the hotel earlier than usual and had a shower and changed then went off to find a chemist. Hubby's hand has started to get infected where the blister, caused by jetskiing, had burst. We bought some cream and the pharmacist gave him some pills - God only knows what they are but I suspect anti-biotics. I also bought the Indian version of Imodium as our tummies are not settling at all. Crossing the road in Candolim is taking your life in your hands. Hundreds of buses, taxis, tuk tuks and bikes hurtle down the street so you just have to cross and hope they go round you! We went to have a drink in a bar and got chatting to a man we recognised as another customer from the shack we'd been going to. He told us that he was Indian, living in the UK, and that he's not that impressed with Goa "there's nothing to do!" which pretty much is the truth - it is a place for lazing around and doing nothing. We went to Angaara for dinner. It's owned by the same people who own Silver Sands and, finally, we had excellent service. The food was GORGEOUS! Some kind of chicken curry for hubby, chicken tikka for me and we shared some pilau rice. It was, without exception, the nicest rice we've ever tasted. The bill would have been 500 rupees if it wasn't for the 700 rupee bottle of wine we ordered. We figured ordering the most expensive wine on the menu might mean it was drinkable, and it was. The restaurant quickly filled up around us and we were given toothpicks and little aniseed treats "to clean your mouth". Although it was still quite early, we went back to the hotel for a night cap. Hubby tried to take a photo of a lizard on the wall behind the reception desk - but it was too quick for him. We chatted about India's obsession with cricket with Sam (I hate cricket, Indians all adore it). We went up to bed, although neither of us got a very restful night as hubby's tummy was giving him some trouble.

Am, really enjoying your trip report,looking forward to next installmentand in just over 2 weeks it will be us hotfooting it over the burning sand so this report is a lovely buildup,thankyou

Wednesday 9th Feb
I went to the beach on my own this morning. I was not happy about it but I had to go if only to pick up our towels and arrange a pick-up time for our trip tomorrow. Hubby decided he didn't want to leave the room so he could be close to the loo and refused to take Imodium. He declared he'd "torn a muscle" in his leg when waterskiing - although he was walking perfectly fine last night and refused to see a doctor. I left him playing the martyr and went down to the shack. Siegmund asked where hubby was "sleeping", I replied. "Ah" he nodded "he drinks too much beer." There were hundreds of tiny crabs scuttling across the sand this morning - diving into tiny holes. As I write this, hubby has turned up on the beach - so now I feel bad for calling him a martyr. The beach seller girls were chased off the beach by the police again this morning. Usually they seem them approaching in their jeep and run, but today the policemen were on foot. Within five minutes, the girls were back, picking to sell to the people next to us as they had no tan so obviously had just arrived. They have realised we are leaving in a few days so are begging me constantly to have a manicure and pedicure - but I am funny about my nails, I've rarely had a pedicure better than what I can do myself, so I do my best to wriggle out of promising them. Then they ask that we bring our left over toiletries to the beach to give to them, but we had already planned to leave them at the hotel for the room boys - who have done a great job of keeping our room spotless. The sea is exceptionally rough today - I got wiped out by a couple of big waves. Indian families turn up to stand in the shallows - fully dressed - and have their photos taken. There is much shrieking and delight but also some fear - as some of them very obviously can't swim. One of the shack dogs, Tommy, has crawled under hubby's sunlounger to get out of the sun and happily lays there for hours.

After a final drink at the shack we bid them goodbye and go back to our room for our usual shower and change of clothes. We decide on Coyotes for dinner and I have my first cocktail of the holiday - a mojito. The food was lovely. We both ordered steak but unfortunately hubby's dicky tummy prevented him from eating his. We had to reassure the waiter that it was not the restaurant's fault. After dinner we sat on our balcony with a few drinks and had a peaceful evening reading our books by candlelight.

Brilliant reading and as Lassi says its very interesting reading a report from someone who is new to Goa.
Cant wait for the next instalment

Thursday 10th Feb
At 8 o clock one of Francis' distant cousins, Roy, was due to meet us so we were a little surprised when Francis turned up instead. It turned out he was dropping us off - exchanging the taxi for Roy's bike so that he could get back. The drive to the waterfall was a couple of hours and during this time it's safe to say we encountered the sights and smells of Goa. There is a lot of litter here and it STINKS. Roy dropped us off at Jungle Rocks where we were to wash an elephant. A 41 year old, female elephant was led into the river where she promptly did a massive poo! Fact of the day: elephant poo floats! Her trainer was nonplussed and he just fished it out of the water with a bowl. Then hubby climbed into the water to give her a scrub and sit on her back while she showered him with water with her trunk. I got in with her too - although I refrained from getting on her. Once out of the water we fed her some nut balls. It was the first time hubby had ever touched an elephant and he was surprised how bristly she was, and how soft her trunk was. We were then dropped off to get a jeep to the waterfall.

We purchased some bananas and peanuts and set off with two other British couples and our Goan guide. The ride is about 40 minutes of the bumpiest terrain I've ever ridden on. On the way, the guide pointed out funnel web spider webs and he spotted a king cobra which was basking in the sun. Once we reached the final stop we got out our monkey food and they happily took the bananas out of our hands. A small monkey unclenched my fist to get at the peanuts inside. They were incredibly friendly. We started the walk down to the waterfall - be warned, it is rocky and you have to be fairly agile to do this walk. I was a bit disappointed with the waterfall after the effort it had taken to get there. We sat for a while and hubby took a dip in the icy water. Our guide showed us that if we threw little bits of banana in the water the large carp would come up to feed. We trekked back to the jeep for the bone-shaking ride back to the town. Roy then took us off to a spice plantation.

Our guide there explained a little about each of the spices and showed us the plants. Afterwards, we had lunch. It was okay, but the whole experience felt a bit like we were on a conveyor belt of tourists. I was glad that we'd booked a private taxi for the day instead of a tour with a tour operator - which would have meant one day for the waterfall and another for the plantation. The taxi charged us 1700 rupees for the day. The elephant washing was 1200 + 150 for the food. Monkey food was 150 each. The jeep to the waterfall was 300 each - plus we tipped the driver and guide 200. Entrance to the spice plantation was 800 rupees for the two of us. So by Goan standards, it was quite an expensive day.

In the evening we went out for an early dinner at Infernos then wandered up the street to buy some souvenirs. We found a shop selling an eclectic mix of carved items, shawls and ornaments and picked small painted egg cups and an elephant to take home. The shopkeeper obviously didn't think this was enough though and tried to push us to buy more. After refusing three times, I set down the items we'd selected and walked out of the shop. The distraught shop keeper kept asking hubby where his wife had gone. "She doesn't like to be pushed", hubby told him. He bought the three items and left the shop. We wandered up to Newtons, the supermarket, where we bought some sweets and looked, in vain, for some aniseed sweets that we'd had at a restaurant earlier in the week. We headed back to the hotel stopping at Teama bar for a drink on the way. Ajay, one of the hotel staff, brought drinks we had ordered up to our room. We asked him about the aniseed sweets and he said it wasn't possible to buy them in Candolim but that he could get us a couple of packets elsewhere. We spent the rest of the evening munching sweets, drinking beer and reading on the balcony - until the people in the next room disturbed the peace and quiet.