Goa SaGa : 1

The hotel room booked for us wasn't very far from the railway station. After settling our things in the room, we headed out for dinner. Most of the restaurants had closed by the time we reached. We finally came across a sports themed restaurant and ordered some squid fry with noodles and bear. Food didn't disappoint us. We happily lapped it up.

The next morning, Nithin hired a bike on rent so that we could move around without having to wait, wave and bargain. However, I wasn't comfortable riding pillion on the bike. We headed out to see the Doothsagar falls, a couple of hours away from Colva.
let me pause here to talk about my tryst with navigation on the google map: I do not enjoy navigating while on a bike ride. Especially if I am carrying a heavy back pack and am travelling long distance. My head goes dizzy and I feel nauseous. And to top it all, the navigation arrows disorient not only my sense of vision, but my entire sensorial system, leaving me panic/anger stricken. After sharing the above mentioned concerns with Nithin, he decided to follow his instincts to navigate to doothsagar lake. As we rode our way up to the hilly roads, expecting a mini Niagra falls to appear in our sight any moment, it started to drizzle. Luckily, rains subsided as we proceeded towards the highest altitude. We were soon struck by the signboard that told us that we are in Karnataka! Travelling all the way back, I looked at Nithin's face which was writ large with disappointment. He looked as though he is the only survivor from a flood hit village, having to bear the brunt of a lifetime of injuries and incurable aches.

In another 45 minutes (or more?) we reached the entrance of the road that takes you to the water falls. Unfortunately on that day, the entrance was closed. We were approached by a guide (a fake one) who assured that he will take us to see the waterfalls for 700 bucks. Thus we became the illegal trekkers.
There were around 10 or 12 of us. We got into a train that dropped us at a random place from where we had to trek our way up towards the water falls. It was almost an hour long trek through stones and slimy rocks and lakes, ponds and branches, forest reptiles and the occasional trumpeting sounds of the elephant.The backpack was weighing heavily on my back and we were told to rush since we had to head back in time for the next train back. I ended up referring to our guide as Jaldi Uncle due to his constant use of the word jaldi (which in Hindi means fast)

this is where the train dropped us off. we were to begin our trek in the forest on the left.

Doothsagar waterfalls

After spending some time near the water falls, we had to rush our way back. By this time, we realised that there were a group of three or four guides- a network of illegal guides, misguiding us. With my aching body and legs I dragged my way out of the forest cover. By the time we reached the railway track, it started to get dark. But there was a big group that we were part of. So I wasn't scared. I was just tired.

What happened next is a series of situations that I still can't make sense of. We were all asked to proceed to a station from where we could board the train back. When we reached that point, we were asked to move to a different position. We were made to walk back and forth for about an hour, in the dead dark of the night, and on and across the railway tracks. The guides were whispering amongst themselves and we realised that being part of this illegal trek team, this is all part of the game. Disappointment, annoyance, anger, irritation left our emotions as our bodies were drained of all its energy. Finally, one of the guides divided our group into three small groups and sent us in three different directions. Now you know why it functions as a network of three guides. I was part of a group that had pretty old men. We were asked to hide near the bushes on the sides near the railway tracks and were told not to make any noise as we were warned of 'our' train's approach. So the whole idea was to get inside the goods compartment at the back end of the train without the knowledge of the train driver. With the much anticipated arrival of the train, tiredness was replaced by an unexpected excitement-as if you are part of one of those secret seven adventures of Enid Blyton.

Our guide broke open the lock of the compartment with a rock and waved us towards him. I was the first one to get inside. I stood on his palm and got inside- a dark passage with two giant cylindrical vessels balanced between metal rod strips (as you can see from the picture below)

our fellow trekkers, and Jaldi Uncle balancing himself on the big vessel. The bangled hands are mine. The one waving at us ( called Papa by his friends) holds a central place in the saga. We literally survived the tribulations of the journey with his funny mannerisms. 

Amidst all this adventure and chaos, we ate the oranges and the spicy snacks offered to us by our adventure companions. The half moon shone bright up above us.
We were heading back after a What-a- journey- that-was!