Baga shite

Being completely devoid of any real plan I figured I would go to Baga.  I’d been reading up about it and it seemed to be the liveliest place in Goa (full of backpackers….apparently).  It was still too early for public transport so I got a taxi.  I said I’d get in the back so that I could sleep.  The driver said it was no problem and that he’d wake me when we arrived.   He seemed to forget this pledge and instead woke me up about every 20 minutes to point out various different roads. Even if I was wide awake I wouldn’t have given a toss.  You can imagine my joy at being woken up to be informed which road leads of Mumbai.

We eventually rock up at a hotel.  The taxi driver came in with me as there was no one in sight.  We saw that the receptionist was fast asleep on the sofa, so of course, the taxi driver wastes no time in waking him up (this seems to be his forte).  I was then told by the grumpy receptionist that a room would cost 800 Rupees for a night but I’d have to be out by 10am (it was already about 6.30am) so I paid for 2 nights so that I could have a lie in.  I was way too tired for any negotiations. 

Sod’s law meant that I was up at 8.30.  This might have something to do with it being the nosiest hotel (I use the word hotel very loosely) in India.  I went for a shower but had to wait for 5 minutes for the water to turn from brown to clear.  I actually felt more minging after I came out.  Everything about the room was depressing.  Outside wasn’t much better as it was full scale monsoon rain. I plumped for the rain rather than stay in the hell hole of a room.   It felt like it was sucking the joy out of me.  The thought of staying another night was giving me the willies (and not in a good way).  I want to go home!!