By the time we got to the harbor there were dozens people like us: burdened with bagpacks, curiously looking around, with determination to conquer the world clearly set on our faces. My co-traveller took my backpack of me and whispered to my ear to grab a bench on an upper deck when they open the gates. I wriggled myself into the crowd, withold by breath and moved along with the attacking hordes of adventure seekers. I fought every inch of the way. But finally Veni, Vidi, Vici. A bench. I plastered myself to it; laid down on it and pretended to create a uniform statue of half human and half wood. The place was buzzing with excited voices. A Babel Tower heading towards Goa....

Finally we departed. The less fortunate started building sleeping quarters on the floor. Camaraderie soon begun. I was laying down on my back on my half of the bench, gazing at the sky potted with falling stars. They were within reach of my hand. The boat was slowly moving and the waves were singing a lullaby. Someone touched a string of a guitar. Someone lit up a joint and passed it around. All accents of the world melted into a summer version of broken English. There was an overwhelming feeling of carefree happiness and sweet expectation of the days to come. Everybodey stayed up late. I curled into a ball on the bench and slowly drifted into a dream of endless palm trees....

I could hardly move when I woke up. I was stiff and every single bone in my body hurt. The ship looked as if a bad witch passed it overnight and condemned everyone on it to eternal sleep. I looked around and...palm trees from my dream were there. My years long obsession with them finally turned into reality. We stepped on the ground in Panajim. I wanted some time off here but my relentless companion dragged me straight of the ship to a dilapidated semibus idea and further on, and on and on through the jungle towards only he knew where and I meekly followed for I had no clue where I was but I loved it with all my might. Upon miraculously surviving the bus trip (but every ride on the Indian subcontinent is comparable to Rusian roulette)we were deposited in Margao - a sleepy village in the middle of nowhere.

Panajim

on route to Margao

paradise....