Vasco de Gama

Went for a stroll to stretch the ol’ legs. Not much to see in Vasco de Gama on a Sunday except cute Russian tourists in leg bearing short shorts. Many shops are closed in what looks like the banking district of town. I myself prefer a more conservative mode of dress (baring arms and legs is too provocative for me), even if it IS Goa, the Rio de Janeiro of India. I try to blend in. I’m friendly but invisible and innocuous. Vasco de Gama is named for its Portuguese influence. The Portuguese colonized Goa and you can see it everywhere in the architecture. After my stroll I intend to have lunch and maybe take a nap by the pool. Hee hee. Insert glee here.
As i watch the relatively sleepy traffic here in Goa I can’t help but wonder... perhaps have you been in India too long if the driving in India begins to make sense to you? Upon returning home to Canada last time I remember driving in my car, watching other drivers and thnking to myself “why don’t they just pass here, there is so much room” in situations where one would never ever pass in Canada.
Though there is a pool at my hotel (this is Goa after all), I wouldn’t consider getting in it. I am content to sit on its sidelines, enjoy its luscious blue appearance and the breeze rattling the palms. So far the day has been very relaxing. I feel very blessed to live such a charmed life.
CROWS. Every morning outside our room in Rishikesh, usually before the morning winds have died down, we are visited by a persistent crow who, thinking his reflection in the glass is a rival crow, proceeds to scrape and peck and generally make a very noisy nuisance of himself every morning. We used to chase him off. Now we just let him wear himself out and lose interest on his on. Recently he brought along a buddy, so then we had TWO crows at two separate windows persistently bashing themselves into their own reflections. Nature is so weird sometimes.