Girls having the weird experience in Goa is not the new story anymore, especially when the girls do not accompany by man. The recent narration of the upcoming film actress while her trip to Goa alone was one such example of the same. She has narrated how she had to face the harassment from the guys at the shack and other places in Goa. Take a look.
The following is very engrossing narration by two girls who came to spend their vacation in Goa for three days on their so-called bachelorette. In the following piece of the article, the author narrates her trip to Goa with her best friend and what kind of treatment they faced especially from the persons of opposite sex.
According to her, Goa is everything you can ask for on a vacation and some of what you never ask for too.
Your best friend’s bachelorette is supposed to one of the biggest events of your life. And since I and my girl have known each other for a decade and a half–and we don’t like being interrupted by anyone else when together–I decided to surprise her with a pre-wedding trip to Goa. Just me and her.
At the time, it seemed like a brilliant idea, and it was–what better than two best friends sipping beer on the beach, indulging in absolute nothingness?
And we did get to do that, besides a lot of other things, but our happiness each day was condensed by one creepy incident or the other. Because, how is it possible in a country like India for two girls to vacation together? Girls out and about alone? Must be harassed!
So, we stayed right next to Anjuna beach and rented out a tiny car for our three days there. After taking in the village beauty of Anjuna–coconut trees lining the sky, tiny colourful huts in the middle of greenery, the most helpful hippies you’ll ever meet–we decided to go to Curlies for the evening. Now, the walk up to Curlies from the parking is about 600 meters of a dirt track with no one around–absolutely no one. When you get closer to the beach, you see signs of life in the form of shopkeepers.
Having spent an hour at Curlies, sipping on juice, playing cards, we “attract” an over-friendly waiter. He decides to join us for a game of cards. To not seem rude (not always the best idea), we let him play. Only, one game turns into two, two turns to four, before he gets called for work. Since it’s 9.30 pm already, we decide to leave, mostly because we couldn’t handle so much “friendliness” from an Indian stranger–and we had to watch our backs being two women travellers.
Surely enough, the waiter comes back to say, “Oh, you’re leaving already?” “Yes, we have an early morning.” “Oh, that’s too sad. See if you can do something. Maybe we can go back to my place.” “I don’t think so, thank you.” “Are you sure? We can crack open a bottle and have some fun…” And by this time, he’s uncomfortably close to my face.
We say a firmer NO again and decide to leave, only to endure that 600-meter walk of absolute dark and loneliness in extreme fear. We were scared the waiter and his mates were going to follow us, and the way out was so pitch dark and lonely, we would’ve been very easy targets, if at all. Thankfully, he didn’t. We made it to the car, locked it and breathed a sigh of relief. And this was just
Since both of us are culture/history nuts, on Day Two we decided to drive for 90 minutes to see a lesser-known waterfall (Harvalem Waterfalls, Sanquelim) and Buddha caves. The drive was one of the best you’ll experience in the country–the smooth state highways, red sand, coconut trees and greenery lining the roads. The biggest blessing during the drive was Goa’s radio–it’s cooler than every metro city’s radio, hands down.
Harvalem Waterfalls, however, aren’t the easiest to reach; most locals didn’t know what we were talking about, but the patchy GPS helped us along the way. Located right behind Rudreshwar Mandir–this magnificent, giant temple–Harvalem Waterfalls are a sight to behold. With low-lying banyan trees, locals fishing at the bottom of the falls, this site makes for an absolute Goa must-visit.
Our next stop was Lamgau Caves, about 5 kms short of Harvalem. So, the mighty internet had shown us very promising pictures of the caves, with Buddhist carvings and what not. When we reached the site of the caves, the car could go only so far. From the point one can park their car, it’s a 20-minute trek to the caves–the trek starts with a dusty mud track from inside a lonely village (with cats for company) and slowly turns into an area surrounded by lush-green, high bamboos, and trees so thick, sun rays can’t touch the ground. So, how populated was this place? Well, we could shout with all our lungs’ might and still not be heard by humans. Animals, most definitely.
We decide to just take in the beauty of the trek and not think of the worst. Only, just before the caves, we saw a bike–the only sign of human existence we had seen in the past 20 minutes. Obviously, we had our guards up.
Soon enough, we saw three men perched on a railing next to the caves. And the caves were nothing like the pictures the internet had shown us. These caves were, in fact, 500-year-old Shiva caves and were now home to bats and beautiful, green algae. Taken aback, we asked one of the guys if these indeed were Lamgau caves. He confirmed our fears and offered to take us inside the cave. My over-enthusiastic friend agreed as I took pepper spray out of my bag.
The guy–we wish we remembered his name–was nice enough to tell us that the caves run 3-km deep and open up to the other side of the hill. According to legend, a lot of maharishis have attained salvation at the cave, and they date back to approximately 500 years. And all this information was handed to us by the guy in broken English–his mother tongue was clearly Konkani, but we could see his eagerness to tell us all he knew. We said a heartfelt thank you to him and his two friends who were waiting for a little away from us and walked back. Harassment for the day, averted!
Since we had had our share of adventure the past two days, on Day Three we decided to just lay on a beach chair, eat French fries and drink beer till we got sick of it. We chose Candolim beach for our lazy schedule because it wasn’t meant to be as crowded as Baga or even Sinquerim.
As is the order of things, as soon as you claim a beach chair in Goa, you are thronged by sellers and aunties wearing caps offering massages. We decided to get our feet massaged. Only, a group of 10 rowdy boys decided to sit right next to us.
There were a lot of people around, so we didn’t bother changing our seats. One of the boys–huge and intimidating-looking–decided to fix his gaze on my friend. After a couple of uncomfortable minutes, she asked him what his problem was. He said nothing and looked away, only to return to his staring hobby a couple of minutes later. Some more time passed, he did not relent, and his gaze moved to our legs that were being massaged. That’s when I lost my cool and asked him what he wanted. Again, he said “Nothing”. “Why are you constantly looking here then?!” “Just like that. SIMPLY.” “Staring at people is not ‘simply’. You’re at the beach, look at the bloody water, that’s ‘simply’. You’re going to get into trouble if this continues, treat this as a warning.”
That did the trick. Our French fries and beer tasted better ever since, till we decided to gorge on some ground-breaking pork an hour later.
The fact that we had an amazing vacation cannot be taken away from us, neither can the frustration of being made to feel uncomfortable repeatedly just because we were two women who decided to go to Goa without a male companion.