A Chapter Dedicated to Agonda
All I knew of Goa was that part of the soundtrack to my first psychedelic experience was a genre of trance named after it.
When drafting plans for my journey, I did not plan. I did, however, perform a brief online search for accommodation to secure my visa. I selected rather randomly something that appeared to be good value (not really knowing what good may be valued at). l paid the nominal deposit of 10%, printed the proof to provide for my application and didn’t give it further thought. I gave it so little thought, that I remained ignorant of the fact Goa has a North and a South separated by three hours of road with beaches of varying reputation scattered between.
I had booked a “Beach Hut” at Agonda Beach. Apparently in the South. I planned to have a look and decide how long I’d stay. I arrived at 4am after a lengthy, much delayed train journey that had gnawed away at my excitement. Train station to destination was a process in itself, but I was surprisingly met by a face that was both awake and smiling. It was made clear however, that I had to pay upfront the full amount for the 7 days I had booked. I was too tired to argue. I entered the simple room and woke up 6 hours later.
I opened the curtains to an unexpected beach view. I stepped out onto sand. I wasn’t facing the beach; I was on it. Yes, it was in fact a Beach Hut. Morning masala chai, yoga, fish masala, massage, more oversized underpriced seafood, sunset, sunrise, rinse, lather, repeat.
Agonda was the perfect choice I couldn’t take the credit for making. The beach was dead quite. Simple, but elegant. A long beach littered with palm trees that had little men running up them and coming down with coconut cocktails. The temperature hovered between 28 and 31 degrees, punctuated by a gentle breeze. The water is cool enough to refresh, warm enough to enjoy. The few people I met – local and foreign – I’ll probably enjoy the company of when I go back. If it were to be any more chill it’d be earie. I was so relaxed I was rejuvenated with energy that I would spend relaxing more.
To satisfy curiosity, I drove an Enfield to a neighboring beach. Winding roads take you through lush forest, past plantations and a gem of a restaurant. But neighboring beaches are crazy hives of commercial buzz. I was glad to drive the beautiful road back.
Agonda was a good choice.
The Middle 