The majority of the time was spent strolling the beach or relaxing in the lounge chairs of Round Cube. There is not shortage of paid activities for tourists to partake in, but we decided against them. Parasailing, jet skiing, kayaking, fishing, and countless other tours around Goa were available for a relatively decent price. We had our movies, books, music, and Nadine's work to keep us busy. Oh, and a view that wasn't too bad either.
For the most part, the beaches of Palolem are calm and unspoiled by the limited amount of tourists that choose to come to the sleepy South of Goa rather than the hard-partying North. Colorful shacks line the coast with about a quarter mile of housing behind the seaside properties. We were told that due to the monsoon, every single house needs to be torn down and rebuilt. Every house, every year. Technically the monsoon season hasn't ended until the end of October, so we were sort of gambling with the weather by arriving a few weeks early. Save for a few hours, the sun held up and we enjoyed plenty of sunshine and heat.
Palolem Beach is nicknamed "Paradise Beach," and deservedly so. Approximately one mile long, the soft sand is checkered with small sand crabs, starfish, detailed seashells, friendly stray dogs, and of course, COWS! About two dozen cows seemingly live on the beach, casually walking up down the length of the beaches daily. They aren't very social beings, but aren't aggressive either. All day they keep to themselves and go about their business.
One afternoon, perhaps on the second day, we walked to the opposite end of the beach, to a lagoon that, when low tide, connects to an island officially called Canacona Island, but everyone refers to it as Monkey Island. We never found out why it was given that moniker, considering there aren't any monkeys there. Also, there were signs that it was prohibited to enter, so we stayed on the beachside and admired it from across the lagoon. On the near side there are probably 500 large rocks where both tourists and locals come to admire the view of the beach and watch the sun set over the Arabian Sea in the evenings, which we did a couple times. One time we met a couple locals who were catching crabs to sell to the town restaurants. We asked to assist them with their work, an offer that couldn't be refused. We caught three crabs in the two hours we helped, which doesn't seem like much, but this guy had been out there all day and only had two in his bag before, so I'd say we have a natural talent for it.
Even though the prices were still pretty cheap, about $4 an entree, we felt it in our pockets because in North India, the prices were about $1.50 for both of us combined. An $8 meal was astronomical! We had become spoiled.
By the end of our stay in Palolem, we were regulars at the Round Cube. We knew the waiters' names, and they knew our order before we sat down. Eggs, sausage, salami, grilled tomatoes, and toast for breakfast. Caesar salad, fish, and rice for lunch. Every day for five straight days. The food was pretty good, the WiFi was serviceable, and the view was spectacular. There was no reason to leave. Several times heavy rains came down, but it didn't affect us much since we had a cover over us. In California and Israel we don't have these types of downpours so we found it mesmerizing to watch the lightning flash before our eyes, followed immediately by thunderous roars.
On two of the mornings, we spotted several dolphins playing in the water. One time they were swimming only about 20 yards into the sea. There are dolphin and whale tours posted all around Palolem, but after seeing so many in South Africa, we didn't feel the need to take a tour here. Later we were told that the promotion of the dolphin tours was a typical Indian scam. Dolphins do not exist in the area, only small whales.
On the third day, we overheard a group of backpackers at the Round Cube discussing their plans for the day. They had negotiated with some local company to rent some motorbikes for $5 for the entire day. Most of them were familiar faces since they were either staying in the Round Cube bungalows, or had made Round Cube their unofficial headquarters like we did. The plan for the day was to rent a kayak when the weather cooled down in the late afternoon. When they told us about waterfalls an hour outside of town, we abandoned the kayaking idea in order to tag along with them. Aside from the German couple, the other four guys were individual backpackers from Germany, Spain, Israel, and England. Surprisingly there are tons of solo travelers who just decide to get away for a while and meet new people.
Fast forward one hour to the rental shop around the block from the Chabad house. Once again, we encountered the Indian scam when we were given only one helmet, then told we would need to pay another 100 rupees for a second helmet. Also, the bike was 350 for the day, there was juuust enough fuel to get us to the gas station, where we paid to pay to fill up the tank. No problem though. At this point we have come to expect this type of sleazy behavior so we paid an extra 100 and went on our way. It is important to note here that we were not asked to present our driver's licenses or any form of identification. Also, we had paid in cash. (more to come on this later).
It was decided that Ben would drive on the way to the waterfalls and Nadine would drive the return route. Neither of us had any experiences on a motorbike in the past. Driving was a LOT of fun. It's quite the challenge zigzagging through the streets of Palolem, avoiding the cars, tuk tuks, motorbikes, pedestrians, and of course the ever-present cows. There were four of us in the caravan, and as the cautious newbies, we served at the caboose most of the time. The further we went, the more confidence we built and our speed rose from 30 km/h up to 50 km/h. Still we were slower than the other three bikes, but better to be safe than sorry.
We filled up at the gas station for 200 rupees, but you'd never know because the gas meter was broken, of course. With Nadine caringly and responsibly repeatedly whispering in Ben's ear to "Slow down, Slow down," we inched our way closer to the first waterfall.
As is the case so often, clear skies are rapidly followed by fast moving rain clouds that engulf the landscape. For nearly an hour we were forced to wait out the storm under a rest stop with some of our new friends, and a gaggle of local Indians.
When the rain subsided, we continued on and made it to our first destination.
The next leg of the trip would be the longer one. According to Google Maps, it would be about a 20-30 minute ride. Midway through the drive, Ben's driving inexperience reared its ugly head. While taking a mildly sharp, uphill right turn, with another motorbike driver approaching from the rear, Ben took a wide angle and veered off the road into the shrubbery. We had crashed the bike in our very first outing. Both of us smacked the pavement on our right sides, damaging both the bike and our bodies. Ben took the majority of the blow. While on the ground, we did a quick inventory check of our heads, necks, back, and bones. Nothing broken or bent out of shape, only numerous cuts and bruises covering our hips, arms, hands, and shoulders. Because we were last in line, our companions drove off, oblivious to our accident. Left alone in the middle of the road, with ripped clothing and blood dripping down our bodies, we waited for help to arrive. A car passed us within 60 seconds or so, but they couldn't be bothered to stop. Five minutes later our friends came back to retrieve us and said the passing car notified them of our situation.
Only after the initial shock wore off did we realize that we had actually been extremely fortunate. Several feet back from the crash site was a 12 foot ditch with a rocky, potentially pleasant landing. A few cuts and bruises are insignificant compared to the unthinkable injuries we would have inevitably endured had we went over.
We were too afraid to get back on the bike, so two of the guys rode back where we came from in the hopes of finding a tuk tuk or taxi to give us a lift back into town. Within minutes a taxi van came from the direction we were initially headed. Inside was an Indian driver chauffeuring a family from Berlin around South Goa for the day (at a fat price of 2,000 rupees!). Their arrival was a gift from God. We were taken back to their AirBNB, where we sat for 30 minutes, again reassessing our situation and deciding whether or not a hospital visit was in order. Ben hadn't spoken much after the accident, to either our friends or the German family, so Nadine was concerned about a possible head injury. The truth is that Ben was physically fine, but felt guilty for putting Nadine and himself in harm's way. He would have never been able to live with himself if something terrible were to have happened. Also, and less importantly, the others never ended up making it to the second waterfall either.
The German father magically produced a flask of local rum, which Ben and Nadine took a couple swigs from to calm the nerves and ease the pain. Neither had had a sip of alcohol, save for a beer in Plettenberg Bay over six weeks ago, so the alcohol served its function nicely.
We slowly walked back to our abode in the rain, cleaned our wounds, rested for a bit, then went back to the Round Cube, confident the others would already be back at home base. Sure enough, they were there greeting us, relieved that were alive and well. After we were whisked away from the crash site by the taxi, we had left the bike with our friends For this, we were grateful and thanked them profusely.
Nadine walked back to the rental shop, hat in hand, to hopefully resolve the matter with them in a civilized manner. Culpa mía. We acknowledged it and were ready to pay the pier. It was raining pretty hard, so the proprietor of the rental bikes requested we delay our business until the following morning. Nadine left Ben's driver's license as a form of insurance, and promised to come back first thing in the AM.
In order to avoid negotiating prices blindly, we did our due diligence and had received rough estimate of what the damage truly was, as opposed to the price we were about to be quoted. Both the taxi driver from the day before, as well as the Chabad rabbi, told us the cost should be around $30-40 US. The locals will attempt to capitalize any opportunity to extract as many rupees from tourists as possible and were thoroughly prepared for a tough, hard conversation. Lucky for us, we had lived in Israel for 5/6 years so our negotiating skills were top notch.
The most basic method of negotiations is to make small talk, ask a few opening questions, get to know each other a bit, and find some common ground. In this case, the obvious path to starting things off on a positive note would be for the bike owner to put business aside for a minute and inquire about our well-being. Clearly Ben was limping, and both of us had bandages and open wounds. We were physically and visibly banged up and broken. The man couldn't care less. Show a little bit of humanity buddy. In fact, we had heard that so many tourists crash these rickety old bikes that these guys prefer it so they can charge the hell out of people. Knowing this, and seeing how this dude couldn't even make the simplest of inquiries, any ideas Nadine and I had about apologizing and giving him a softball offer went out the window.
Not just was he rude, he was an idiot as well. He refused to give us a price, instead demanding that we get back on a bike and go with him to the mechanic. There isn't a snowballs chance in hell that we were going for another ride on that death trap. If someone crashes a rental car in the US or Israel, they aren't expected to go to the mechanic and sort out the price. It's unheard of. A price is given, and the bill is paid. Here, though, they want more than just paying for the damage, labor, and the money lost for when the bike is out of service. They want to scam folks. We asked why he needed us to come with him, he responded so that we believe him when he tells us the price. This answer showed us two things. Firstly, this exact situation happens all the time. Secondly, he's already operating under the assumption that we think his answer is fake. Why would he think that is the case unless it's true? Clearly the plan was to take us to the repair shop so the mechanic, who is in his back pocket, can be the bearer of bad news with the ridiculously high price. It's a transparent low level scam that was seen from a mile away. Instead, we argued for 20 minutes for him to call the mechanic, explain what needed to be replaced, and get an offer. Whatever the answer was, we would offer him what we were prepared to pay anyway.
He told us 8,000 rupees in the end. We knew the price to be 2,500-3,000. Our counter was swiftly rejected. The back and forth went on for a while, neither him nor us refusing to budge a single rupee. Negotiations concluded when the man bitterly returned Ben's ID, told us to keep the money and go buy food with it. He said tomorrow we would see the bike was fixed, and drove off in great haste to the mechanic. It was like a child throwing a temper tantrum, as if he would rather "win" the argument and receive nothing as opposed to "losing" the argument and receive fair value for the damage of the bike. We stood there in shock, unsure what to do next.
Hypothetically, the night before, we could have simply run away from the situation. We didn't have to come back to the shop. They didn't know who were were. We paid in cash beforehand, so no credit card on file. They never collected our ID's until Nadine gave it to them. Even the ID given was Ben's Israeli driver's license, which would have been useless for them to track us down with anyway because we used our US passports for our Indian visas, as well as for the hotel we were in. For all intents and purposes, we were ghosts. This is what kind of pissed us off... We took responsibility for our actions and were more than willing to cover the damages. We tried to do what was right.
We stood in front of the shop for a few minutes, expecting the man to turn around and continue the debate. When it was clear that he was long gone, hesitantly we dawdled back to the Round Cube and took the man's advice: we used the extra money on food :)
Comments