Palolem to Mandrem Beach

Chandor Mansion

After deciding to sleep a little longer than we planned it was packing time. It seemed we had somehow acquired more possessions as we gazed upon our things sprawled across the room. Once the massive task of packing was accomplished we set off towards the northern beaches of Goa with a quick detour through Chandor to look at the old Portugese mansions. We stopped in Quepen for another one of our 'stand around until someone signals us to sit down' breakfasts (which are always the best). Parota and some sort of masala curry, delicious.

On the way into Chandor we spotted a couple of rather grand houses and then one very large old mansion. We stopped to take some photos and I followed an elderly lady inside only to be told a tour of the antique house, which was apparently quite a tourist destination, came at a fee.

As we approached the northern beaches of Goa we were dumbfounded by the scene that unfolded before us. We thought Palolem was touristy! The road frm Candolim to Baga blended into one long strip of Western, touristy, overpriced hell. We tried to check out the beach but the locals were even demanding money for parking. We quickly continued North and into Anjuna. While not quite as full on we had seen, Anjuna was overrun with markets selling all of the same stuff we had already bought in Palolem. The only beach we saw was undergoing some serious construction and, apart from a guy offering to pull soap from my ear, Anjuna was not a stand out. Maybe it was because we were hot. Maybe it was because we had been kept up all night by barking dogs. Either way, we were looking for something a little more wholesome.

River Side: Our hut

We continued North and stumbled upon Mandrem Beach where Chris found a nice little beach hut that had our name all over it. Before we could commit, we had to check out Arambol to make sure we wouldn't be missing anything. As we rode into town Arambol quite quickly made it clear that it was Palolem on steroids. The same shops lined the road but the road just went on and on, winding its way down to a beach packed with the usual shacks. One thing was different though...the hippies of Arambol, unlike those of Palolem, were the real deal. Dreadlocked individuals riding scooters with babies strapped to them with slings. Wile Arambol definitely had charm, we returned to River Side at Mandrem and settled in.

Our accommodation is the first real hut we have stayed in on this trip. And when I say hut, I mean hut. The walls and roof are made of woven palm leaves, the door barely shuts and the bathroom door is a shower curtain. Thankfully, a mosquito net was provided.

After wading across the river, which runs along the beach, we took a dip to cool off. Then it was exploration time. We walked North and, intrigued, continued far enough to reach Arambol by foot. Our walk confirmed that we had found the Goa we were expecting. The beach was scattered with all kinds of people doing all kinds of things. Hula hooping, tai chi, yoga, kite boarding, dancing solo, cycling, swimming, topless sunbathing, fire twirling, juggling and arm swinging were just some of the sights.

Mandrem Beach, sunset

After returning to River Side we found a table at our guesthouse restaurant, surrounded by pillows which made relaxing far too easy. We watched a stunning sunset over the water as the tide came in and enveloped the river. Pizzas were the order of the evening, after battered veggies, beer and juice. Dogs played on the beach, lanterns glowed, lovers snuggled on the pillows and reggae played endlessly.

Mandrem Beach, sunset

Miscellaneous observations:

We have seen far too many dead animals on this trip so far. Cows being gutted, cows mourning over other cows, a man carrying a dead cat, road kill dogs and bikes almost invisible thanks to the dead chickens they are carrying. No wonder there's such a vegetarian population here.

Mandrem Beach, Sunset