The Beginning

Is there ever a point in time that definitely, without any doubt, is The Beginning of something? Or is any beginning simply an arbitrary notion, based on the idea that on our little blue planet, there must be a starting point as well as an end?

Mind you, these musings have a purpose. After all, I would like to relay as well as remind myself how this idea of a home in Goa developed. Let me go back to the most logical starting point. It is early 2003. February, Bombay/India, Marine Drive, Jazz by the Bay, Cricket Matches and new friends. Specifically, two very gentlemanly Mumbaikars, both successful businessmen in the spice trade, who suggest that I simply MUST visit Goa and relax for a while. Before it gets too hot there, they repeat. Not only should I explore Goa, I should visit the SOUTH of Goa specifically, for its beautiful beaches and unspoilt ambiance. A village is named ("Benaulim"), accommodations are suggested ("L'Amour - it is as close to the beach as you can get") and a place to hang out during the day ("Cecilia's shack - just walk North along the water for ten minutes, toward Colva").

To be perfectly honest, I had my reservations. Goa for an old India hand like myself seemed a little too India Light, if you know what I mean. I had heard that it was too packaged maybe, too overrun by hippies that seem to exist in every generation (not only the '60ies), and a place of heavy partying for travelers who call the Subcontinent their home. Long story short, it took a little persuasion before I actually went to Goa, and I only went after several pit stops elsewhere, once I had left Bombay. But one fine day, some time late March 2003, I took an overnight bus from Pune to Panjim/Goa.

So, there I was in Panjim and shortly thereafter in a minivan to Benaulim. Oh, the countryside! It was a marvel of lush greenery, narrow country roads with little traffic, and houses that were the most curious, colorful gingerbread dollhouses against a backdrop of palm and cashew trees. A few mild looking dogs snoozing here and there, elderly women dressed like my grandmother in Germany, a very fierce sun and air humid enough to promptly cure my ever-dry skin. I can honestly say that instantly, the setting appealed to my artistic senses. This area had the feel of being playful, original and relaxed.

As I was to find out over the coming days, calling it relaxed is only partially accurate. There is another quality that gets into one's system. Maybe it's the water, or the air, or the midday heat that calls for siesta.....I soon heard tales of people who had come to Goa for just a quick visit but ended up staying for weeks, then months...in some cases they just stayed on. A little bashfully I will admit to you that the same magnetic force overcame me as well. My intention of staying for a week or two was swept into the Arabian Sea by gently lapping waves as I walked miles and miles of beach, often so pristine that I could count the number of people crossing my path. The fishermen sorting out their nets by the time I'd come along during the morning hours got used to seeing me. The handful of itinerant merchants trying to sell me a piece of clothing or a bauble just chatted and sometimes tried to keep up with my pace. The crows and sandpipers hardly fluttered a wing when I stepped near them at the edge of the water, all of us playfully avoiding the shallow waves as they lapped toward us.

Sitting in the sand, watching a handful of boats on the horizon, a strange thing happens. The waves roll in, splashing against the sand, making that particular noise familiar to anyone who knows the ocean. The gushing is steady, persistent. After a while, it fills my head, my being, and removes any internal dialogue. A deep peacefulness overcomes me, a state of rest that I sink into more deeply the longer I sit. This is the magic, the magnetic force that might be what keeps visitors in place, stuck so to speak. Others might find the same peace in the mountains of the world, or under the apple tree in their own garden. For me, the combination of space, that particular nature scene and the mesmerising effects of the ocean are a gift. Something presented that instills a particularly positive and happy contentment within me, just by being there.

You've read the beginning now. Over the coming months, I will post photos and more stories of how things are shaping up.

Thanks for looking in.