Hoyle goes to India – Day 9 – Vagator

The scooter wouldn’t start. Turns out the fuel gauge isn’t broken. The good news is petrol is available every where here. You know how they say never to carry gasoline in anything but an approved container? Turns out big water bottles work just fine. I got 1 liter and the guy from the room helped me start the bike. Then I rode it down and got another liter and returned the bottle. It is 80 per liter here.

I made it to vagator on the first try by basically guessing. I haven’t seen much signage.

Vagator is smaller and the sand is darker. There are cows on the beach and only a couple of bars. I still have been unable to get coffee but they have cold beer which seems close enough.

I got accosted by an ear wax guy. He said I had soap on my ear and since I had just put on sunscreen in the dark bathroom I thanked him and tried to fix it. He offered to help and then I saw the metal tool he showed me with “ear wax” on it. All snapped into focus any I said no no no and walked away from him.

I am at a place called “bar” which has a cement foundation about 8 feet up off the beach with wide wooden steps to get up the front. Wooden poles with tracks of prior underbark insect infestations support a now familiar thatched roof, this one made of much larger panels than those at GB

There are maybe 20 beach chairs in front, mostly taken by light skinned folks under large umbrellas. They are set in pairs with low mismatched wooden tables between. All the Indians go into the water in their clothes, but the white people shed shirts and small bikinis are common on the women. Nothing too racy but there are plenty of nice butts without much on them. A young guy with a modern haircut with bleached tips bounds up and down them frequently bringing beers and colorful drinks to them.

Plenty of watersports are available, just as in Anjuna. Here though there is an overlooking hill which truncates the beach.

There is much less of a hippy vibe here and much less commerce. There is a commercial street full of small stands but nothing on the beach.

The cow lying in the beach in front of me is a chocolate brown with small horns and a big hump. I have seen all different sorts here. Fortunately they are completely indifferent to humans who keep their distance. I am not clear of their motivation at all really. There is nothing for them to eat or drink. One has been standing in the same spot for 20 min

I ordered chicken Momo. There were many kinds but I asked for a recommendation and am going with it. Other than being chicken and small that is all I know about it so far

Lots of places here serve pomfret. I don’t know what that is either other than a town in Connecticut.

The menu tells me that “bar” is actually Pinakin Cafe, and there is a picture of the trident stuck in the sea rocks out front. So I am guessing Pinakin is an Indian Poseidon. Not having internet makes it easier to make things up. Also tridents are cool. If I pull it from the rocks I get to be king of india, I expect. Or arrested, maybe.

Many men here are rocking fedoras or cowboy hats without looking douchy. Women tend to have wider and floppier hats. There is the occasional baseball cap but it is hardly the uniform here.

The rocks are different from Anjuna despite being only a few km north of there. I will go check them out after lunch but I am not expecting the same sort of biome.

Momo is dumplings, served hot with a dipping sauce. Similar to Gyoza.

After a brief walk on the beach, a couple photos and two more ear wax guys I hopped on the scooter and accidentally went to a working fishing beach which is in an inlet behind the old fort before finding the right way with a helpful point from sitting ladies.

Chapora fort is just a wall now, made of small blocks of porous volcanic rock, apparently from the Anjuna flow. These blocks are hand stacked three deep to form a palisade wall . I think that’s the right word. Regardless it is minimally crennelated, a word I probably spelled wrong. There is a single lookout post remaining from the same style as el morro in san juan, and probably many other places I haven’t been.

There is some garbage and broken glass and many wayward sandals. I can’t imagine how much it would suck to walk down barefoot. There is only one sign claiming ownership and no information at all. There are however vendor carts selling bottled water with increasingly effective sales pitches. Namely “bottled water?” But each time sounding like a better idea as my calves burned on the steep slope. I had parked far below for 10rs as there are no vehicles permitted.

Mostly it is a big open area with lots of great views of the beaches and the river. Pretty much exactly the right place for a fort, provided there was a way to get water up here.

Time to head down, no plan yet. Maybe dinner at Anjuna beach