Walking along the beach the first evening, I was hailed by two young guys who told me that they were born in Goa and lived in a shack near the beach, 'Aren't we lucky to live in this paradise' they commented.
It could be Hawaii, Goa has some superb beaches - mile upon mile of fine, white, powdery sand - stretches of flat beach, no rocks and the Arabian Sea, exotic and as warm as tepid. The tidal range is huge - the high water mark is impressive and low tide sees you walking out quite a way to catch the waves. A canopy of coconut palms, protects the beach shacks, which are made of woven bamboo. The whole place is closed during the Monsoon months, when rain falls in sheets, then the huts are wrapped up in plastic to keep them dry. But come October, the wraps come off - but many of the structures need work, so there is much activity as the woven bamboo is reinforced with wooden slats to keep it firm and new roofs are hoisted into place. The sound of rain on woven matting is quite special. The bridge across the lagoon is also made of bamboo and provides quick access to the beach. Stretches of sand seem vast - an infinity of space and just a few people identifiable as silhouettes in the distance. I have just watched the sun set over the sea - a perfectly round orange ball slipping into quicksilver, the shoreline dotted with starfish and wooden dhows making their way back after a day's fishing.
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