After the mayhem from the previous day, I was glad to just sit there at breakfast, drink a cup of coffee, and jot down a few things in my notebook while listening to the song "Despacito" over the speakers. Indians apparently had once again fallen under a sensual Latin spell, and the song "Despacito" was played everywhere we went throughout our journey. It became our rallying cry in the thick of the action and not a bad cosmic lesson to learn in the land of the dancing flames.
Early morning and the traffic was light. A far cry from the previous day. We had ventured out “downtown” in search of a portable iron because my "nanotechnological" lyocell shirts looked like accordions. We ended up playing a game of Frogger through the mad Calangute streets, then Bianca had to go into a McDonalds to get away from the mayhem and hold onto some semblance of sanity amidst the chaos. Back at the hotel, we lay in bed shell-shocked and groaned at the prospect of having to venture out again. So, we supped at the restaurant right across from the guest house.
In the morning, we wandered to the "entertainment district" and found a quiet place to have breakfast.
“Did you take your malaria pill?” Bianca said.
“Pills, pills, pills,” I murmured downing the malaria pill we were supposed to take everyday for the next three weeks. In addition to the pills, we also took five vaccine shots to prevent a variety of tropical illnesses. This was before all the pro- and anti-vaxx insanity took a hold of our minds. Ah, those were innocent times!
Traffic mayhem notwithstanding, we were beginning to get into the groove of the city. It was much bigger than Agonda and busier.
“The waiter in Agonda was right,” I said. “This place is bonkers.”
“I still like it," said Bianca. "I love the colorful houses and buildings with the old style designs and extravagant South Indian aesthetics.”
When breakfast came, my taste buds danced for joy. Up to then, I had been conditioned not to have spicy food in the morning, it never occurred to me that spices was precisely what you needed to get those gears going.
A couple of dogs wandered into the restaurant and made themselves at home under the tables. They were docile and did not bother anyone.
“I kind of like this about India,” I said. “I know that stray dogs are a problem, but there is something wholesome about cohabiting with free-roaming pooches.”
"These ones are not strays though," Bianca observed.
"No, which makes it more peculiar. At home we keep our dogs in the house or in a leash. No dogs out on the streets by themselves, stray or otherwise. Maybe it's time we let the dogs out."
"Ah, I see what you did there," she said sipping on her mango lassi.
We ate breakfast and then reviewed our plans for the day. We were going to walk along the beach until we hit the Portuguese fort at the end. It was going to be a long walk along miles of sand, so we settled the bill, and made our way to the beach through the mysterious alleyways. We were in no particular rush, so we took it despacito and enjoyed the sights and sounds of spicy Calangute.
Dive into another section:
1.1, 1.2, 1.3, 1.4, 2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 2.4, 3, 4.1, 4.2, 4.3, 5.1
Images by @litguru