(Follow along on Instagram for daily photo uploads)
Palolem was pure bliss. I had spent all morning on the beach laying out in the sun, without a worry in the world. Every couple hours or so, I would leave my chair, and tiptoe across burning sand into the ocean, cooling off and feeling weightless as the tide effortlessly carried my body. I felt weightless in another way as well. I felt the freedom of being seven thousand miles away from any of my responsibilities, concerns - and the best of all - away from any kind of routine. I was light on my feet: the few material possessions I had were sitting in a locker at my hostel, ready to be thrown on my back on a whim whenever I felt like heading to another destination. My friends and family in the Midwest were in the midst of this thing called a “polar vortex,” braving arctic temperatures and winds while I was sweating it out in triple digits, Fahrenheit style, enjoying what was beginning to feel like the best February of my life. I relished every moment of it.
The entire pristine, crescent mile of Palolem is lined by a thick forest of coconut palms; with restaurants, tattoo parlors, and yoga studios nestled into the seam where forest meets the beach. I had walked until I found a restaurant called Round Cube, where I decided to set up camp upon spying a buy-one-get-one cocktails special. The restaurant was situated in the very middle of the beach, so on either side of my reclining chair, I could see the full curve of each half of the crescent, and dead ahead of me, a shimmering horizon line that connected the two. The sunlight reflected off of the waves, creating a mesmerizing display of millions of twinkling lights as far as the eye could see. The sound of the ocean was the only thing I wanted to listen to, never tiring of the sound as I sat for hours. My only human interaction was with the locals: mainly the women, walking up and down the beach in saris, disturbing me every five minutes in an attempt to sell jewelry; and occasionally visits by my server, Manjay, who would check on me once every two hours.
Though we weren’t on an island, I soon experienced for the first time the meaning of the phrase, “island time”. There was hardly anyone at Round Cube, but the service was extremely slow. I was trying to take advantage of the fact that ‘2 for 1 cocktails’ here equated to roughly six cocktails for the price of one in the States, and wanted to try as many of them as I could. I found that I had to order my next drink as soon as I received my most recent one, otherwise the next cocktail wouldn’t come for another hour after finishing what I was drinking. I imagined the bartender standing there watching the order tickets pile up, waiting until a couple dozen had accumulated before starting on the first one. I think if I was back home, this would have annoyed me, but here I didn’t mind at all. I was so relaxed, that nothing bothered me. Fearing that my skin was about to turn into a lobster’s if I exposed it to the sun much longer, I left my beach recliner for a table at Round Cube’s shaded patio. I ordered a late lunch, as Manjay and other members of the staff took turns inviting themselves to read my journal, which was sitting open in front of me. I had fried fish in a spicy Goan Masala batter, with salad, garlic cheese naan, and my fourth (or fifth?) cocktail of the day.
As I sat in the shade watching the scene around me, I realized that I had experienced a 180 degree turn in trajectory. Just eleven days earlier, I was at an all time low. I had been almost fully dehydrated, and bed-ridden in Delhi for over 24 hours, too weak to travel to Jodhpur with Nathan, and very uncertain all of a sudden of how I would survive the next month alone. I had been drained physically by the food poisoning, noise, and pollution; and emotionally by the culture shock and confronting poverty. But here I was feeling completely rejuvenated by the ocean breeze and fierce sun. This visit to Goa was exactly what I needed at exactly the right time. While the corner of Goa that I was in is very touristy, and probably not the best place to seek cultural immersion, it’s beauty was intoxicating, and I was finding it incredibly rewarding.
From my beachside chair at Round Cube
What I found to be invaluable about that first day in Goa, was that I was able to find true solitude. I had unplugged from outside influence entirely, free to just write, reflect, and spend time with only my own thoughts. I had shut off my phone, avoiding social media, email, even music, which I always find myself gravitating towards. I just sat for an entire day, taking in the beauty that surrounded me, without the obligation to maintain interesting conversation with a companion, or compulsively checking in to see what my friends back home were up to on their Instagram stories. For why would I want to be anywhere other than where I was in that moment? On my previous solo trips, I had experiences like this only for fleeting moments. After fifteen or so minutes of solitude, I would get uncomfortable, check my phone habitually, or move on, in a hurry to get to the next destination on my list. I found that the more I pushed through that natural fear of being alone, my anxiety would slowly rise up until it reached a breaking point, after which it finally just vanished. I decided that this was something I needed to practice every day, as I was in the best possible place to start developing a habit of meditation. Besides, at the first sign of loneliness, all I had to do was find the nearest hostel.
View from my shaded table at Round Cube
After consuming the better half of the cocktail menu, and taking a sunset stroll along the beach, I decided it was time to interact with other humans again. I made my way back to Roadhouse after dark, and joined the circle of travelers in the yard once again. I caught up with Naman, and the other guests I had met the night before, and welcomed a few new guests that had arrived during the day. Passing Kingfisher around the table, we waited for Raja to finish preparing a delicious meal of fish curry and biryani in the hostel kitchen for us all to share. We stayed up for hours sharing food, drink, and conversation, as music played and the hot, coastal air began to cool. I eventually retired to my dorm to rest, and looked forward to doing it all again the following day.
Goan sunsets were without a doubt the best in India that I had encountered
