This was a spur of the moment thing...
At the airport we found out our plane had other expat families with the same idea. Here are some of the kids and a mom on the Kingfisher shuttle taking us to our plane.
Here is John pretending to be a terrorist on the plane... I'm so proud (not). This does bring up an interesting point... When I was a kid I would play cops and robbers or Charlie's Angels with my friends... someone had to play the part of the bad guy. I liked being the bad guy... it was more fun to be chased than do the chasing... I think a lot of the kids in the 50's (in America) would play good guys verses communists... It's not just John. If you ask the kids these days to describe a "bad" guy"... I bet a lot of them would use the word terrorist. (Right?)
Anyway... I explained to him that 'terrorist' is a forbidden word on planes as well as the word 'crash' and 'stewardess'.
Anyway... I digress... Here is a picture of our view out the window of the plane.
After landing, and checking into our hotel... we hit the beach.
This was our first trip to Goa. I was surprised how nice the beaches were.
Our hotel lobby was beautiful... I loved the ceilings and the sides were completely open letting in a salty breeze (and tiny birds that made nests on top of the pillars).
Our room was nice... clean... everything we needed... well furnished...
My favorite part was the screened balcony. It overlooked a palm tree forest. It had a cane table and chairs to enjoy your morning tea.
John and I ate supper every night at the same restaurant. It was a little bamboo/ palm frond shelter next to the beach. They had a different band that played every night... The music was (to borrow a phrase) kind of not fabulous... But they tried very hard by playing songs Americans would like to hear... or what they thought Americans would like to hear. And it brought a smile to my face to hear yet another mutilated version of 'Hotel California' or Michael Jackson's 'Beat It' every night.
The service was terrific and the food was amazing... my favorite was the king fish.
I noticed a trend almost immediately... all of the Russian-accented people had the fashion sense that would make a stripper blush. I took this picture at breakfast with my camera phone (yes that is her ass hanging out of her "shorts"). I was too shy (or scared) to take pictures on the beach of the men in their teeny tiny speedos and enormous guts. One guys suit was so small and his stomach was so big... I thought he was naked at first sight. This is a little shocking as Indians usually don't show a lot of flesh... A woman's torso might be displayed when wearing a sari... but never her legs. It felt a little weird seeing so many people show such little respect for the culture of the country they are visiting. Anyway... made it a little more interesting... and I think I am officially an old lady by the way I bring this up.
The mushroom-looking things were lights. At night they would cast an eerie glow on the path.
Any way Goa was a great trip... I loved that we could travel somewhere and be in the same time zone and not have jet lag issues. I can't beleive it has taken us so long to go here. We will definately go back... but next time with Scott.
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