A Goan Excursion to Arambol. New Bike. New Love!

I got a new bike, a new place to ride the bike and so it was obvious that I was going to fall in love!

The bike had been bought a month back and the shipping had gotten delayed due to one reason or another. After much waiting and counting of fingers (repeatedly), the bike was delivered to my doorstep in Goa. The bike arrived late afternoon, so the first day was spent just assembling the bike and setting it up for a ride.

Today, finally it was time to go roam around Goa. The plan was to ride to Arambol Beach, but instead of taking the main route, I took the narrow serpentine route which hugs the coast. It is much slower and a bazillion times more scenic. The only downside is that you get chased by dogs far too often!

Of course, all those who wander are lost, or at least I was. The fun part of riding in a new part of town is that you are forever getting lost. In fact most of my adventures have started only after I got lost. Even my friends say “TwoWheeledMonkey, GET LOST”!

Coming from North India and the big city of Delhi, Goa was quite the culture shock. In a good way though. In Delhi, motorists try to run me over and in return, I try to break their rear view mirrors. Neither goes home with that empty feeling of not having achieved anything! Don’t try this at home, you really need to get out on the streets to play road rash!

In Goa, it was weird. Buses, cars, trucks would slow down behind me because of the narrow road and not honk. What kind of sissy (insert other appropriate politically correct phrase here) doesn’t honk! They would wait patiently for the road to clear and then overtake me, leaving as much room as possible. The people were so nice, I almost shed a tear.

With the monsoons currently on, the beaches are off limits. At the very least, jumping into the water and getting yourself killed is illegal. The cops will put the law breaking corpse in prison. The other thing Goa is known for is cheap alcohol as compared to the rest of the country. Which results in a lot of people coming here just to get right roaring drunk. Unsurprisingly they are quite successful at it! After getting drunk, they think they are Usain Bolt (or was that the Phelps guy) and jump into the stormy (not Daniels) sea. These are the wonderful drunks you need to watch out for while cycling around Goa.

Those and the few other idiots who consider themselves bikers. These idiots are fortunately easy to spot from a million miles away. They have hair like the Night King from Game of Thrones, the hair colour is generally blonde, for God knows what reason, and they will be swerving around on traffic free straight roads! The reason why you notice their hairstyles so easily is because these numb nuts do not believe in wearing a helmet. You will generally find them zipping around on gearless automatics bought for these ignominious idiots by their grandparents.

Cops. You might wonder, what the bloody hell are the cops doing while these two wheeled zombies rush around like headless chickens. There is the ancient Goan word and lifestyle called susegad. The word finds its origins from the Portuguese word Sossegado. Out here it just means laidback. And that is exactly what the cops are! A guy wheelieing his motorcycle rides past a policeman, as he tries to move his paunch out of the way to raise his hand in an attempt to stop the hooligan. Instead, he stops an old lady with greying hair who was driving her car at 40 kmph! And since the lady stopped, he goes about issuing her a ticket. Just in case!

Back to the cycling! Since it is the monsoons here, you need to ride with one eye on the sky. And as I had expected the clouds gathered like English football fans and behaved in the same manner! Like the good locals I hung around at a bus stop waiting for the rain to pass. But that is not the way you deal with rowdies. You flip the bird and move on. In a matter of minutes I was drenched down to the last thread of my underwear. At 30 degrees centigrade, the rain really doesn’t matter. It just cools you off; at no point of time are you at risk of getting cold. Instead of sipping water from my bidons, I looked skyward and let the rainwater seep into me. It is the newest technology in rainwater harvesting. You should try it, again probably not at home, unless you have a leaky roof!

There were a few small climbs, but nothing of interest (read panic). Till I was on my return journey and decided to take a different route home. The shortcut climbed straight into the sky. At a 7% average grade for 1.1 km, the climb was tough. Category 4 tough according to Strava. Since I hadn’t eaten anything and was already wet and exhausted from the ride, this really felt more of a test to the spirit and not to the body. Since, it was the spirit which was being tested; I stopped and replenished the spirit with some local spirits! Very intoxicating indeed.

After spending fantastic five hours on the saddle, it was time to wrap up and head home. Hungry, thirst and ready to blog about it on Steemit!

Oh, yes the bike. I fell in love with it. A Fuji Touring, steel bike, as the name suggests, it is built for touring and is as comfortable as a limousine, and it handles equally badly!

Overlooking the bay

With the monsoons comes lush greenery

The churches are always there. Come monsoon or summer. Goa is known for its churches, thanks to the Portuguese spending time here!

Clouds like that are both scary and seductive

A small stream

The red flag is there to warn people of the danger of getting into the water. Some times people are smarter than Pamela Anderson in Baywatch

Only mad dogs and Englishmen will be out in the midday sun. That guy is probably English, I wonder what does that make me!

Now where the bloody hell is the Baywatch crew

Some pictures from the Action Camera:

Road and sea(nery)

This one clicked especially for @mrprofessor, since he enquired about the well being of cows in India

Oh, look another church

Confucius says: When it rains, you can't see shit!

A rain drenched church

And finally for those people who are interested in cycling:

The Climb. Scarier than a horror movie

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