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Thursday
Jan282010
Rae's Writing Vacation: Wednesday's Post
January 28, 2010
I drove away from Panjim, the capital of Goa, this morning, on my scooter. In Panjim I walked around and took photos of buildings and a few people, I saw a movie in a theater (the last movie I saw in a theater was Mr Bean’s Holiday in B.C. in April of 2008) and I had a massage. It was beautiful. But I was ready to leave.
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?
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?
Reader Comments (6)
I was all dreamy like, reading your work/relax recap when I cracked laughing at the PS ... funny and scary at the same time.
It's so nice to imagine you on your scooter...and having space to think and write. Mmm...praying that it's so so rich for you...my dear, dear friend.
It does sound like so much fun. I love the idea of the cashew groves, oh to see that. But be careful! There I said it..... The creep on the scooter gave me the creeps. Enjoy yourself - there's nothing like getting away and getting renewed.
Sounds like bliss.
I like the color at the end! Funny
I had some cashews with my beer tonight and thought of your cashew forests in full bloom.
Cow dung floor, written so casually, and luxuriously. But what totally amazes me is "thank goodness it's a working vacation." You are truly fascinating, and I'm looking forward to reading your novels.
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