Dear Diary: Goa in Monsoon - A tragicomic memory.

Love is better when you Laugh together!

Goa in monsoon - that's what both P and I wanted to do for a long time. So finally in 2013, we planned ahead and booked a train to Goa during July sometime. As luck would have it, that year monsoon decided to play hide and seek in Mumbai. It was hardly raining and when we got into the train, we were literally chasing the rain. We boarded the train from Dadar station early in the morning at around 7/7.30am. Even as the train moved out of the city limits we could make out the signs of a sparse monsoon. So much for our much awaited train to Goa during monsoons! We were already disappointed. The train moved through the green paddies and villages with drops of rain here and there. But too few and far between. Adding to our disappointment was the fact that the train was running late by hour or so. The only saving grace was the food on the train. We decided to at least to enjoy the hot and fresh medu vadas, bread pakodas, and vada pavs on the train. Finally after 12 hours of a long and tiring train journey we reached Goa in the evening. By that time the romantic idea of being in Goa during the rains had died a sad death!

Now to the hotel that P had pre booked. Since it was only for 2 nights, we thought of staying near the most happening part of Goa, near Baga beach. In all our previous and even later trips to Goa, we always stay somewhere else deliberately avoiding the over crowded Baga and Calangute beaches. We reached the hotel, checked in and after a shower headed out for dinner. As we stepped out of the hotel, we found a place to rent a bike and promptly rented a scooter. Had dinner in a quiet place and came to hotel and went to sleep.

Next morning we went to restaurant for breakfast. The room rate was inclusive of breakfast it was mentioned when we sent the booking request. There was no buffet. Accepted, since it was officially off season no buffet. The server gave us 2 slices each and a cup of tea. We asked him "What about breakfast?" He nonchalantly replied "This is breakfast." WHAT? Now that's it. 2 slices and a cup of tea cannot be passed off as breakfast in a hotel. That too in the most touristy area of one of the most touristy states of India. Unacceptable. P went to the manager and told him that. Manager refused to understand or acknowledge what we were trying to say. He kept saying the same thing - this is what we offer as breakfast. Then he called someone and handed over the phone to P saying please speak to our ma'm. P tried his best to make the lady at the other end understand. But the lady refused again and again and asked us to leave the hotel if we didn't like what they were offering. We both were dumbfounded. We were being thrown out of a hotel and we were not even shouting or creating a ruckus. Since we were asked to pay at the hotel, we offered the room rent for one night. The manager refused that again. We insisted but he was adamant that his "ma'm" asked us to leave and instructed him not to accept any money from us. Finally we came to our room, packed our bags and left on the rented scooter parked outside the hotel. Both P and I were quiet and shocked at what had just happened. He just rode the scooter and I sat on the pillion quietly. He kept driving and I didnot ask where were we going. We reached Anjuna and he stopped. Both got down from the scooter, looked at each other and burst out laughing - we were just thrown out of a hotel for asking for breakfast. Both of us have been to so many places across the country, stayed in so many hotels, from homestays to 5 stars; but this had never happened. We felt like college kids who were thrown out from a hotel for not having money to pay. At last P said " They have thrown us out for asking for breakfast. Now let's go and atleast have a hearty brunch somewhere."

Rest is short. We came back to Baga, returned the scooter and ate out hearts out at Britto's. We booked flight tickets for the same day and flew back by 3pm. And guess what, while on our way to the Dabolim airport, it started pouring and it poured and poured till we reached airport. It was as if the sky also cracked up with laughter with us.

This is not Baga..But Ashwem beach in Goa.

Life sometimes throws lemons at you and both I and P firmly believe that it's up to us whether to make lemonade or use it for tequila shots. But we both agree that the lemons must not get wasted.