Candolim, Goa

hobnob222

Last updated at 09:59 06 April 2005


Mindblowing. That is the only word to describe it. It is totally unlike anything in Europe or the States.

This is Goa. We step off the plane and it's like walking into a sauna. We each lost several pounds (more fun than the Atkins diet!). In the dusk, people line the streets, doing very little.

Cows rummage in rubbish heaps or sit in the middle of the road. Families of scrawny pigs scuttle off into the undergrowth behind the beaches.

It is everything we have dreamed of, golden palm-fringed beaches, constant sunshine, the warm, friendly people.

A kaleidoscope for the senses. The smell of woodsmoke and wonderful spicy, cooking aromas.

Unfamiliar sounds, from the dawn chorus of motor horns to the nocturnal chanting and singing from the temples.

Whole families ride at breakneck speed on tiny scooters, dodging ancient buses. I am seduced by colour and texture as the shopkeeper brings out roll after roll of rainbow hued cloth and butter-soft leather.

The markets with their Aladdin's cave of gems and silver, bags, cushions, wall-hangings, sparkling and colourful as a butterfly's wing.

Melt in the mouth onion bhajis and spring rolls. Mounds of spice in unlikely shades of mauve and ochre.

I want to buy this, and this, and this - undeterred by husband or credit card limits! We explore and lie on the beach - two weeks is not enough. Then only memories and traces of red sand - until the next time!

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