I drove for two and a half hours, and my bottom was numb when I got here. I drove through cashew forests which smelled heavenly because the cashew flowers are in bloom. And I drove through forests of eucalyptus which were stunning and alien. I haven’t seen anything like them in North Goa. I felt like I was back in California, except that I was on the left side of the road. I stopped completely at one point because a man was trying to tease me on the scooter, riding up beside me and staying there, trying to get me to look at him, speeding up when I sped up, slowing down when I slowed down. I’ve had one man do that before, and it’s so dangerous. The only thing to do is either smash into him on my scooter (not a good idea) or stop at a market and wait for him to be really far away. I did the second.
Now I am at a small beach in the south, staying in a beach hut. A beach hut! I can’t believe the luxury. It is made of coconut fronds and has a cow dung floor, behind one of the beach shack restaurants. I swam today, and read some, and edited three chapters. I walked up and down the beach a few times, climbing over the wonderful boulders at one end of the beach. I’m shrinking back a little at the prices of food.
It’s a part of Goa that the vacationers experience, a part that I haven’t, really, with my house and my homeschooling and my children. I need the municipal market, I need things, I have appointments, I have a pretty firm schedule. But today I have only a backpack and a computer in a hut on the beach, and the comfortable knowledge that I will be with my family soon again. What a vacation. I’m a blessed girl.
Thank heaven it’s a working vacation. I’d be so, so bored if I wasn’t working on the book. It’s a writer’s dream, really, write for a couple of hours, then take a walk. Read for a while, then write again. Walk again. Go for a scooter ride. Do research on agents and what a book synopsis is.
The characters in my next book are banging around in my head. I have to finish this one, quick! Although I’ll miss these folks, I really will.
PS: Reality check on the whole paradise thing: Last night after I wrote this there was a big fight in front of my hut. A very angry British woman punched a very drunk British man and then screamed at him for a while, telling him he was an achoholic and he’d better stay the eff away from her friend. STAY THE EFF AWAY! And on and on. A while went by and then they were dragging the very drunk man away to put him to bed somewhere and I heard a woman say, outside my hut, “But there’s shoes out here!” I leapt out of bed and opened the door. “Oh! Sorry,” she said.
I should say! Jeepers, can’t a woman get a little peace and quiet?