Back to Chapter Nineteen - Thailand and The Golden Triangle

Chapter Twenty Kuala Lumpur, Goa, and Bali

On to Chapter Twenty One- Antarctica

Another year later; another holiday. Because we had gone through the timeshare presentation on Phuket we were given several options of other holidays. If you have ever sat through a timeshare presentation you will notice that your reward for doing so is drawn from a lucky envelope. The possibilities are usually cash, jewellery, or a holiday. What business are these people in? Do you really think any envelope has cash or jewellery vouchers? No; you always win a holiday. And one of the conditions is that you have to sit through another timeshare presentation when you get there. Eileen and I are so good now that we can prompt the salespeople.

Malaysia’s Kuala Lumpur International Airport is in two main buildings. We had to catch the monorail train between them to get to our luggage carousel. From the Legend Hotel we took a taxi downtown to do some sightseeing. Our first visit was to the KL Telecommunications Tower. The observation deck is about 300 metres above the top of a hill that it stands on, giving excellent views of the city. The entire tower is 421 metres tall. Across from us was the twin Petronas Towers. The observation bridge between the towers is only able to be visited at specific times. We missed out because we would have had to wait several hours for the next time slot. It is a business area anyway so probably not very exciting. The excitement is all in the shopping complexes at the base of the towers.

 Next day we were off to the Bird Park. Located in the scenic Lake Gardens, close to the Orchid Garden and the Tun Abdul Razak Memorial, the Bird Park is the largest in SE Asia, and one of the largest covered bird parks in the world, sprawling over eight acres. Following this we went to the National Planetarium where amongst other things we spent an hour or so relaxing in very comfortable chairs staring at the domed ceiling in the Space Theatre. The ceiling is the screen.

After this two day stopover in KL we flew on to Mumbai, India. Flying in over the city it seemed the worst shanty slums were surrounding the airport. Maybe it is “The Castle” syndrome. Not all of Mumbai is slum. It was reputed that the most expensive Real Estate in the world at that time was in downtown Mumbai. We met up with some Goan residents who assisted us to find our way around the airport. Once again it was about midnight, and we had to find somewhere to wait for our flight to Dabolim, the airport of Goa. I do remember the proliferation of mosquitoes in the building, and that we had not yet started our anti-malarial tablets.    

From Dabolim airport we made our way by taxi over the worst public roads in the world. Our destination was the Royal Goan Beach Club Resort at Royal Palms, Vasvaddo, Benaulim. Goa was ruled by the Portuguese from 1510 until 1961 when the Indian army evicted them, and the architecture of the buildings reflected that Portuguese influence. For tourists Goa is mostly renowned for its beaches, yet still I have not come across beaches to rival Australia’s. Our room was rustic yet purposeful, despite the rock hard mattress. Anyway we were here to experience the culture so we got stuck into doing that. By turning on the TV!

India loves cricket like a sailor loves rum, and it was World Cup 2003 in India. There was something to do with cricket on most channels, sometimes 24 hours a day. There were even female experts and commentators. Most of the locals would ask where we were from. When we said Australia, the next words were, “Who do you think will win the World Cup?”, and the conversation then stayed on cricket.

We went for a one kilometre walk to the beach past the local shops, houses, and farms. There were several fishing boats beached on log rollers. Some had engines and some only had oars. These must have belonged to local fishermen. Other boats were off the shore, but they looked like they returned to a harbour somewhere.

The beach extended as far as the eye could see in both directions. There was a lifeguard stand but no lifeguard in sight, and many stalls predominately selling food, sarongs, and T-shirts. We were told there was no running water for these stalls, so we just had drinks (from the ice but not with ice) and sat in the wooden deck chairs under the umbrellas.

Next day we were off touring in a taxi. Taking a bus here is a death defying experience. There is competition amongst buses to get to the passengers first. A bus passed us by crossing the solid white line down the middle of the narrow road on the blind crest of a hill.
It then similarly passed another bus to get to the next bus stop first. We had paid our driver in advance for the day so there was no need for speed. We stopped at a Hindu temple where a skilful guide beguiled Eileen and convinced her to pay for a lectured tour. Once again it was worth it because without him we would never have understood what things were and what was going on.

Nine kilometres from the capital city of Panaji is the Basilica of Bom Jesus. Declared a world heritage site, the basilica contains the mortal remains of Goa’s patron saint, St. Francis Xavier of Assisi, which are available for public viewing every ten years. Heritage listing must stipulate that the neighbourhood be cleaned up because for a kilometre or so around the site there were no plastic bags and other rubbish lying in the streets and fields. Inside the basilica Eileen forsook her Buddhism and Hinduism and had medallion gifts for her family blessed by one of the fathers.

At a natural harbour in Panaji we found the Goan Yachting Association’s building. There was not much going on and there were only two sailboats in the harbour. I shot some video of Dona Paula Beach from the very impressive lookout, browsed through the market along the causeway, and then we returned back to the resort for Cultural Night. Why is it that most of the live entertainment in Asian tourist resorts is old American Country and Western music?     

The next day’s taxi ride took us to Ancestral Goa at Lautolim. This is a museum of Goan culture. Different guides gave talks on their areas of expertise in the different sections, some indoors, but mostly outdoors. There were many recreated huts and scenes from early village life about 100 years ago, with mannequins depicting humans and animals. At the end of the tour we were treated to several courses of traditional Goan food. The Goan diet is predominately vegetarian, but we had meats as well as vegetables. We did not recognise much of it by looks or taste, but it was mostly curried and quite palatable. We purchased a small oil lamp in the shape of Ganesha. The lamp is filled through a hole in the bottom. When it is turned right way up for lighting, the oil doesn’t run back out. It’s magic!

Down the road from the museum is a restored Portuguese mansion. According to our guide, these mansions were built about a metre above ground level for one reason only; so that the Portuguese could feel superior to the native Goans who lived in houses at ground level. A special feature of this house was its burglar proofing. Robbers were very civilised in those times, and would send messages in advance informing the occupants as to the day of their intended arrival for the robbery. Not being stupid the occupants would be ready, and had peep holes through walls to watch out for the robbers, and holes aimed at the doorway to shoot arrows at them as they entered.

Wednesday is market day at Anjuna, next to the beach. It was the hippies who brought about the trend of this flea market during the late 1960s  Here you will find everything from Indian crafts to the latest London clubwear, tattoo artists and piercers, spices, artists and performers, silver jewellery, clothes and material, musical instruments and CDs…... the list is endless and so is the hustle, bustle, noise, and shuffle. Beware of the tricksters who try to tell you that you have something in your ear. They will say they got it out with their finger, and charge you for the surgery.

There is an old fort with a modern lighthouse and an older lighthouse that is the oldest of its kind in Asia, being restored across the bay north from Dona Paula, on a headland called Aguada Point. The Fort Aguada was built originally by the Portuguese in 1612 to protect the entrance to the Mandovi River. It is so large it envelops the entire peninsula, and used to be a reference points for ships coming from Europe. Its defences included 79 cannons. It got its name Aguada from the Portuguese word for water, because of the three springs inside its walls. These springs supplied water for the fort, and would re-supply ships.

On our way to the market at Mapusa we stopped at Colva Beach, the prettiest so far, with palm trees on the wide white sand, and many boats anchored just off shore. It is usually less crowded than Anjuna Beach and most of the others, although our beach at Benaulim was even more peaceful. Colva had very clean looking food shacks, and was a very pleasant place to sit and have a drink.

The market at Mapusa is totally different to that at Anjuna. This is a town market for local produce. Foodstuffs were laid out either on cloth, bags, or tarpaulins on the ground if it was fruit and vegetables, or hung up if it was meat. There was no refrigeration and carcasses for sale were just hanging in the sun. The smell was atrocious. Normal household goods that you would buy from a department store were on sale too. I did buy a bottle of Old Monk rum. I think it was made in a 44 gallon drum out the back. It must be good stuff though. I brought it back to Australia where I drank it and I am still alive, although it did permanently stain a dressing table I sat it on.

The only shopping I really wanted to do in India was to buy a pair of sandals. I wear sandals a lot; especially those without straps at the back. They are much easier to put on and kick off. I have knockabout-wear everywhere sandals, good going out sandals, and soft white soled sandals to wear on our boat. Every film I recalled seeing of India showed people wearing sandals, so I figured they must have lots of good ones for sale here. Despite looking in many roadside and beachside stalls and shops, and despite searching the two biggest markets in Goa I was unsuccessful in finding some that I would be happy with. Our taxi driver eventually took me to some shoe shops in the city and I found the best quality and most suitable were Bata brand. I couldn’t believe it. I could buy them in Australia.   

We aeroplane hopped, skipped, and jumped back east to Bali via Mumbai and KL again. Our accommodation this time was at the Seminyak Suites, Seminyak. We had never stayed at this part of the island before, so the district was new to us. It is not far between anywhere at the bottom of Bali, so we contacted our old mate Ida to collect us in his bemo when we wanted to go anywhere, but because of our hectic schedule in Goa, this week on Bali was mainly spent doing nothing but lazing around the pool. The Seminyak Suites are fairly isolated from the frenetic pace of other districts of Bali, and not within easy walking distance of the beach. The grounds are quite small with not many rooms, so it is perfect to just quietly laze around for a week. 

So far we had escaped the obligatory timeshare presentation, but here we were seized upon and subjected to another spiel. I think the presenter gave up early when we told him we had been through this a half a dozen times before and had not succumbed.   

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