As I was driving to the airport I noticed some kids in a sandlot playing cricket. Sri Lankans are crazy about cricket. I am sure there is a regulation field size, but any open space will do, and will bear the tell tale signs of the central pitch, where the bowling (i.e., pitching), batting, and running back and forth to score runs takes place. The batter connects with the ball, sends it flying in any possible direction and the opposing players try to catch it or run after it in extreme disorganization until someone grabs it (nobody but the catcher wears a glove) and sends it back to the catcher to stop the scoring. The batter, in the meantime, runs back and forth between home base and the pitching pole (the equivalent to the pitching mound), or about 10 meters, to score. The umpire looks a bit silly in a broad brimmed hat, but that is part of the tradition as well.
So goodbye Resplendent Island, and hello to the new part of the adventure. The first leg, Colombo to Mumbai, went without a hitch, but as we descended into Mumbai I saw a huge city surrounded in a brownish mist of smog, and got a shiver running down my spine thinking that my visit to India was going to be crowded, hot and polluted. The airport itself is nice, but the immigration procedures were slow like molasses. I had applied for and received an e-visa, which I hope would allow me to breeze through the process. Alas, it was not to be. Only three of the 20 booths was occupied by an agent, a paper form was required but the blanks were nowhere to be found, and when they finally came the inspector took forever to write down the details by hand and stamp my passport.
I had a couple of hours layover, which I used to exchange some money (1 US dollar = 80 Indian rupees) and buy a SIM card.
The second leg, from Mumbai to Goa, also went smoothly, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that Goa is green and with good air. I had booked a driver, who turned out to be a chatty young man, so the hour between the Goa International Airport (GOI) and my resort went by very quickly. On the spot I booked him to drive me back from the hotel to the airport three days hence. "Gladly, what airport?" I had assumed it was GOI, but wait a moment, let me check. Aha! Crafty Indigo Airlines flies from North Goa Airport (GOX) so I am glad we had the chance to clear out that detail.
The ride was smooth, first because I had a good relaxed driver, and second because there are no tuk-tuks! (OK, there may be some in the old part of town, but they are definitely a rarity.) I am going to enjoy this place.
My somehow opulent resort is in the middle of the jungle, which interweaves with rice fields, urbanized patches, and hotel and restaurant ghettos. Goa is a coastal location, so there are spectacular bridges over the estuary and inviting smuggler coves all around us. No wonder the Portuguese chose this as their main port in India. Tomorrow I will go explore the town in an organized tour, so I will have more to tell you about it and its history.
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