The Itchy and Scratchy Show
My first night in Anjuna was interrupted when I woke up furiously scratching my legs. I washed off with cold water and passed out, but woke up early to... the itch.
Apparently there was an angry spider trapped in my bed sheets, because he's bitten me all across my legs. Which would be merely annoying, except that I'm having an allergic reaction. I've got the worst rash of my life all across my legs, back and arms. It itches so badly it hurts. And I look like a leper, strolling the Goan beaches for alms.
The sticky, close heat definitely isn't helping. So I'm doing my best to distract myself during my last two days in Goa, before I head back up to Mumbai to see a doctor. Yesterday I distracted myself at a club until the wee hours of the morning--ok, till the sun came up. Since the real deal beach parties have stopped since the season ended, we were told that Club Cubano is where the party was at.
We weren't about to argue--on Wednesdays, ladies get in free and drink for free all night. No really. The tri-level, mostly outdoor club is like the Senior Frogs of Goa, for all ye who've spring breaked in Cancun. Like Cancun or Negril, folks come to Goa to party in a bubble. In a country where women practice purdah, girls in Goa trot around in miniskirts, or worse, Daisy Dukes and wedge heels. For guys in Anjuna, there seems to be a strict No Shirt No Shoes rule, which encourages us to gawk at the big, ugly tattoos fanning out on their backs.
The crowd in Cabana was 70% sunburned package tourers, primarily English, and 20% sunglass-sporting Indian guys (three of whom latched onto us to get in, since they don't allow them to go in alone). The remaining 10% watched their antics from cushioned bed loungers on the lower terrace by the pool. The routine went a little something like this: guzzle 5 Bacardi Breezers, grab the nearest member of the opposite sex, and dramatically jump into the pool with your clothes on.
After all this excitement, I passed out with my eyemask on, prepared to sleep away the day. I woke up itching two hours later. I got up and ran outside into the ocean. The salt water did soothe the burning--oh god I sound like such a freak show--but the waves kept knocking me down.
After giving up on rest, I tried to stay moving all day. Jess, Jaime and I went into see Old Goa's striking 16th century churches. Standing under the high barrel vaulted ceiling of Se Cathedral, we read that it's among the largest church in Asia.
For a moment, I thought, we're in Asia? Stay in Goa for too long and you forget.
Apparently there was an angry spider trapped in my bed sheets, because he's bitten me all across my legs. Which would be merely annoying, except that I'm having an allergic reaction. I've got the worst rash of my life all across my legs, back and arms. It itches so badly it hurts. And I look like a leper, strolling the Goan beaches for alms.
The sticky, close heat definitely isn't helping. So I'm doing my best to distract myself during my last two days in Goa, before I head back up to Mumbai to see a doctor. Yesterday I distracted myself at a club until the wee hours of the morning--ok, till the sun came up. Since the real deal beach parties have stopped since the season ended, we were told that Club Cubano is where the party was at.
We weren't about to argue--on Wednesdays, ladies get in free and drink for free all night. No really. The tri-level, mostly outdoor club is like the Senior Frogs of Goa, for all ye who've spring breaked in Cancun. Like Cancun or Negril, folks come to Goa to party in a bubble. In a country where women practice purdah, girls in Goa trot around in miniskirts, or worse, Daisy Dukes and wedge heels. For guys in Anjuna, there seems to be a strict No Shirt No Shoes rule, which encourages us to gawk at the big, ugly tattoos fanning out on their backs.
The crowd in Cabana was 70% sunburned package tourers, primarily English, and 20% sunglass-sporting Indian guys (three of whom latched onto us to get in, since they don't allow them to go in alone). The remaining 10% watched their antics from cushioned bed loungers on the lower terrace by the pool. The routine went a little something like this: guzzle 5 Bacardi Breezers, grab the nearest member of the opposite sex, and dramatically jump into the pool with your clothes on.
After all this excitement, I passed out with my eyemask on, prepared to sleep away the day. I woke up itching two hours later. I got up and ran outside into the ocean. The salt water did soothe the burning--oh god I sound like such a freak show--but the waves kept knocking me down.
After giving up on rest, I tried to stay moving all day. Jess, Jaime and I went into see Old Goa's striking 16th century churches. Standing under the high barrel vaulted ceiling of Se Cathedral, we read that it's among the largest church in Asia.
For a moment, I thought, we're in Asia? Stay in Goa for too long and you forget.
posted by Rose at 9:09 AM
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