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Yawning and stretching with the sunrise to the irksome sound of Chelsea's alarm, I begrudgingly got out of bed. It was 6:30 in the morning and we had a boat to catch!
The previous day we had arranged with a young Goan man nicknamed, 'Captain', to go fishing - foolishly we had taken his recommendation and decided to go at the crack of dawn when no one else would be about.
Meeting Stahv outside our hotel we walked along the beach to where Captain was waiting for us. I'm very comfortable with my heterosexual nature but by God he looked handsome, the swine. When we arranged our trip he had been wearing a captain's hat and shades, now without them you could see the hunksickle that was underneath - my imaginary ovaries swooned and I instantly hated him and thought that I would take the first opportunity I got to kick him overboard.
As it happens, he didn't accompany us. Instead we had two nimble looking, elderly men steer the three of us out into the waves.
Dancing around on a makeshift anchor, made of rope and a breeze block, we cast out lines over board whilst being treated to seeing our dolphin companions again!
Chelsea and Stahv had previously admitted that they weren't really looking forward to the fishing and had just come for a dolphin watch. That attitude quickly dissolved and we were all in high spirits laughing and joking whilst expertly casting out our lines.
In quick succession we all caught a fish, a white snapper to be precise - the name makes it sound lethal but they were just big, silver goldfish. I caught mine first and was immensely impressed with myself! It was short lived unfortunately, Chelsea caught a bigger one moments later and then Stahv caught a gigantic one after that - mine ended up being a tiddler! I hope I managed to mask my wounded masculinity...
After a quick shower to get the fish scales off me, we cantered down the road to find Rahul's Cooking School! Chelsea had been hankering after doing an Indian cooking course and had managed to sniff one out on Tripadvisor.
Rahul turned out to be a lot younger than I expected and showed us and two elderly Canadian women - Trudy and Fran - into his very clean and organised kitchen. The walls were lined with various jars of spices and utensils that made us all suddenly realise how little we knew about Indian cuisine.
After quickly washing our hands we were introduced to the menu we would be having a bash at: butter chicken masala, chapati, cardamon rice, mushroom pahadi and aubergine bhurtha. Vigorous dicing and sprinkling of spices ensured until we had our five separate components ready to eat. My favourite bit was actually making the chapatis, it was surprisingly easy to make; just wholewheat flour, a touch of salt and water. You cooked it very quickly on something closely resembling a Welshcake stone and then whipped them onto the open flame where they puffed up in a fascinating sort of way.
We ate our concoctions with our Canadian friends, who were very good company throughout the experience. But, all of a sudden Trudy's husband turned up and said that he would have the left overs. The words 'piss off' were clearly stamped across myself and Chelsea's foreheads, but what could we do? As it happens there was plenty of food but still a cheek I thought considering that we had all paid (quite a bit) for this and he just sidled up and helped himself! He irked me.
In the night we went back to the infamous Art Resort bar for a swift cocktail and maybe a bite to eat. We met a great couple called Tom and Gig (Ingrid). They were extremely funny and down-to-Earth so we ended up spending the rest of the night with them. They had a son our age who had travelled India on his own so they passed on some of his experiences to us. Whenever we see them now they refer to us as 'their kids', lots of adults we meet have that attitude towards us for some reason - they like to protect us, we must look vulnerable and inexperienced!
- comments
Laura I would like a photo of the handsome man
John It appears your having a good experience now. Lets hope the future is bright!!!
Sian I too am looking forward to a hand cooked meal as soon as you get back. Just dusting off the bake stone ready. Bloody Canadians. Ps my maths is really coming on replying to these bloggs. XX
Amy I would also like a picture of the handsome Captain. Yours might be Mam but Matthews isn't. He can't add 2 + 2