After countless vacations at the various baby-powder beaches of Thailand, I have developed a serious case of Beach Snobitis. I have high expectations for cleanliness of sand and sea, pleasant water temperatures, spectacular panoramas, and local flavor. I also have little tolerance for drunken backpackers, cigarette butts, and loud late-night music. Stranded in India until certain visa issues get resolved, I grudgingly agreed to Spring Break on the beach in Goa with my friend Marianna. Generally an optimist, I was, nevertheless, prepared for disappointment.
We arrived Tuesday afternoon at H2O Agonda for five nights in a beachfront bungalow. Realizing our hut abutted the thatch-roofed restaurant, I immediately protested. Most beach hotels cater to the party crowd, and I am too old for that. Insomnia is my constant companion; I don’t need help from the hotel bar. Unfortunately, no other bungalows were available, so we moved in to the space, which is equally split between a bedroom and an open-air bathroom.
I’ll spare you the suspense: This place is wonderful! The loudest sound is the crashing surf. Aside from an occasional cow patty, the sandy beach is clean and mostly litter-free. At one end, boulders rise up in clusters, begging to be climbed. I splashed into the warm sea this morning to find turbulent water and powerful breakers, perfect for body surfing. Eventually worn out, I sat at the edge of the tide, drizzling wet sand onto my legs and letting the waves wash over me.
I guess I can handle this for a few more days.
