Back on Om beach Gokarna, idle, aimless. The same familiar faces are here, but something has changed. Everything is reflected in myself, as I am far from a neutral observer, it feels spent. The same tank-top wearing lads and lasses who behave so impeccably in Thailand, Laos, and Bali have added Gokarna to the end of a Goa trip. It was a gradual but inevitable shift, the travelers are fewer, and the Goa goers are more. Welcome to new Palolem.*
This week there are no motorbikes for hire, the rickshaw drivers have been on strike to demand this. The police have duly seized any hired bike with Karnataka plates. This will change with enough trips to Bengaluru, bikes with new rental approved numberplates are already appearing. Anything to appease the land mafia (the excessive headcount of rickshaw drivers) or the sea mafia (the extortionate cartel of boat owners controlling the water).
Without convenient motorbikes I resorted to other measures: pedal power, and the still bountiful state bus company. The state buses cost only pence, and serve just about every hamlet of the state. Most tourists seem unaware of this now, and travel exclusively by private "sleeper"** buses, like lambs to the police extortion post.
I explore to the north, and to the south, but could not find the beach of my mind. Still, it's about the journey isn't it. I make a trip to the beach known as paradise under my own steam, by sea***. I haven't seen people swimming often, it must have gone out of fashion. Instead the popular exercise seems to be a morning jog by the water. Paradise is a little cleaner than I remember, but a little busier than one might imagine.
*Palolem is a 2-week tourist town in south Goa, where the second hand book shops collect a history of whatever pulp was popular last year.
**Only very heavy sleepers have a chance of sleeping, though the low rumble of the engine is pleasing, the occasional horn blast or launch into the air keeps gentler souls awake.
***It turns out swimming beyond the bay is ill advised, jellyfish.
This week there are no motorbikes for hire, the rickshaw drivers have been on strike to demand this. The police have duly seized any hired bike with Karnataka plates. This will change with enough trips to Bengaluru, bikes with new rental approved numberplates are already appearing. Anything to appease the land mafia (the excessive headcount of rickshaw drivers) or the sea mafia (the extortionate cartel of boat owners controlling the water).
Without convenient motorbikes I resorted to other measures: pedal power, and the still bountiful state bus company. The state buses cost only pence, and serve just about every hamlet of the state. Most tourists seem unaware of this now, and travel exclusively by private "sleeper"** buses, like lambs to the police extortion post.
I explore to the north, and to the south, but could not find the beach of my mind. Still, it's about the journey isn't it. I make a trip to the beach known as paradise under my own steam, by sea***. I haven't seen people swimming often, it must have gone out of fashion. Instead the popular exercise seems to be a morning jog by the water. Paradise is a little cleaner than I remember, but a little busier than one might imagine.
*Palolem is a 2-week tourist town in south Goa, where the second hand book shops collect a history of whatever pulp was popular last year.
**Only very heavy sleepers have a chance of sleeping, though the low rumble of the engine is pleasing, the occasional horn blast or launch into the air keeps gentler souls awake.
***It turns out swimming beyond the bay is ill advised, jellyfish.
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