Alex in Motion

Goa is the party capital of India, with a blend of beaches, resorts and all-night discos along the beach. Tourists are mostly Russians, yogis and “free-spirited people” that gravitate to the easy-going lifestyle, non-spicy food (yay for me!) and inexpensive costs of the region. The weather hovered around 30C and was sunny for the 4 days I visited.

While touring the area by rented motorcycle, I was randomly stopped by the traffic police. The officer said something in Hindu, and I replied, “rental”. When he realized I spoke English, he called over another officer. The second officer spoke very well in English and asked for my driver’s license. I continued to play dumb and responded, “rental”.

He explained the license plate on my motorcycle indicated it’s a personal vehicle, and it’s against the law to rent a local’s motorcycle. I reiterated, “Rental. Not mine. Tourist” and added a terrible French accent in the hopes he would become frustrated and just wave me off. He didn’t and continued to ask for my papers.

At this point, I was convinced I needed to bribe my way out of the situation, since I didn’t bring my driver’s license with me. A few seconds later though, he got distracted by someone else and walked away. At this point, I noticed both officers were several steps away and were distracted with several other drivers they had previously stopped. So I casually started my motorcycle and drove away.

Slightly nervous, I kept looking in the mirror for a pursuit while random honking from other vehicles caused me to jump from the seat. After about 2km, I presumed they were not chasing me, and started to breath again and began to laugh. I’ve never done that before!

On a remote beach called Paradise Beach, I met a few girls from Belarus. It wasn’t long before one suggested we ride the motorcycle on the beach. I’ve also never done that before, and it was loads of fun. Then they took turns driving with me as the passenger, and I braced for impact each time since none of them had ever driven a motorcycle before.

That evening they invited me to a few clubs, the last of which was honoured with a well known local DJ. Normally I like saying, “yes” to invitations, standing by my expression, “every great adventure begins with a ‘yes'”, which is paraphrased from the movie, “Yes Man” with Jim Carey. So even though it was 3am, and I would be most certainly pushing myself, I accepted their offer.

Along the way, we drank water laced with MDMA, something I haven’t touched in over ten years. After dancing to the groovy beats, my heart started beating too fast and my temperature rose quickly. It forced me to sit and focus on breathing for a while. Looking around the room, with half-naked bodies grinding to the rhythm of trance music, I realized this is a real Goan experience, and it couldn’t be further from what I want in my life.

Perhaps if I was 25, this would have been awesome, and would have been able to seize the moment, as everyone else seemed to be able to do. But at this point in my life, I felt distant and indifferent to everyone.

While recovering the next day, I had a great conversation with the owner of my resort, a well traveled and wise young gentleman. After a few exchanges, he interrupted me with, “You’re not doing what you’re supposed to be doing”.

He proceeded to share some of his spectacular travels to Nepal, Mongolia and northern Thailand, places only a precious few visit. Viewing the natural beauty of the mountains and the wondrous colours of the flowers there literally brought him to tears. It was a marvel that needed to be shared, and he felt selfish to be experiencing it alone.

This “deep” travel is something I need, he continued. I have the time and the means, and shouldn’t spend it only on places everyone has been, or I can easily go with a life partner. Don’t squander the opportunity to get really lost, he warned.

His words resonated, and I’m altering plans accordingly. I’m also pondering what am I REALLY tying to achieve on this journey, but will save that topic for my next post.

A couple hours drive from Mumbai is the city of Pune. Although the city boasts a large population of 2.5 million, the lack of skyscrapers and the abundance of trees lining the streets give it a pleasant suburban vibe. Mix in the fact that it has as a little of everything you could want (history, cultural events, temples, quaint village markets, ethnically diverse residents and is a huge technology hub), and Pune ended up being one of my favourite cities in India.

However, after visiting so many other attractions in the last 2 weeks, I became tired of the usual rounds of sightseeing, and asked my guide to only show me “la creme de la creme” of attractions. I also decided to see the movie, “Deadpool”. The movie experience was rather different than your typical North American one and I feel the need to share it.

• When buying tickets, there was a choice of three categories: silver, gold and platinum. For reasons beyond my comprehension, the most expensive platinum tickets were the furthest from the screen. I chose the gold category, in the middle centre of the theatre
• Before the movie started, there were commercials and each one began with a certificate of approval. I presume it meant the commercial was authorized by the government for public viewing
• Right before the movie started, the national anthem was played, and everyone had to rise from their seats
• People kept arriving late, up to 30 minutes after the movie has started. I was surprised to see how many were willing to miss so much
• Throughout the movie, a few patrons answered their mobile phone and had conversations for several minutes
• Each time an actor was smoking cigarettes, a small text appeared in the bottom right side of the screen saying, “Smoking is dangerous for your health”
• About halfway through the movie, right when the action started to escalate, the movie suddenly stopped and the lights came on. It was a 10 minute intermission with more commercials!
• Lastly, and most interestingly, the movie was quite censored. It was hard to determine the exact specifications for Indian censorship, since the actors could say, “fuck”, but they muted words like “asshole” and “vagina”. Entire scenes were also edited out, which I believe were the most violent and most sexual ones

Despite all the above, I quite thoroughly the movie. Since Deadpool is rated R, I’ll need eventually watch it again with an uncensored version.

Now here are some tourist pictures:

After thoroughly enjoying the last two weeks with Selma, it came time for her to return to Montreal. I was accustomed with a travel companion, so it took several days to truly acknowledge I’m alone again. It’s an adjustment that took longer than I expected, and believe it’s a healthy sign that I miss the company of my friends.

Traveling alone has many advantages, and I believe everyone need to experience it for themselves to fully understand why. It’s easy to write about the personal growth you’ll have, on how to completely rely on yourself, your wits, and your decisions, how it’ll improve your confidence and teach you how to be happy by yourself. But until you actually travel to foreign countries, where language is a barrier and different types of decision making occur many times a day, it’s simply a few (digital) words on a (digital) page.

The good news about Selma leaving was locals significantly reduced their constant barraging of questions; asking whether they could take my picture with them. I guess I don’t look as friendly as Selma, lol. Or perhaps they just like women more than men. Either way, they didn’t stop trying to sell me anything and everything though. What would I do with a fan made of peacock feathers anyway?!

Mumbai is the New York City of India, only more Indian. It has everything you could ever need, including Bollywood movies. I didn’t visit for long enough to visit a Bollywood studio but I did see the highly recommended washing ghats. It’s an outdoor area famous for washing clothes, linens and towels from most of the city’s hotels and hospitals. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get lost in the maze of narrow streets as some guy wouldn’t let me continue unless I paid him. Not in the mood for negotiating or arguing, I simply left.

My guide grew up in the largest slum of Mumbai called Dharavi, so I was able to experience life there from a real local. We took turns riding his friend’s motorcycle up and down the busy roads, dodging people, vegetable carts, other vehicles and kids yelling, “Selfie! Selfie!” (they noticed my GoPro extension). We also ate street food, the kind that DIDN’T give me Delhi belly, and played cricket with a few of his brothers (In India, it’s customary to refer to your closest friends as “brothers”).

Only a few pictures to share, and a quick video of the motorcycle ride.