It was 10am in the morning.
In the tranquil haven of the town, everything was quiet except for a few excited birds chirping away in the nearby fig tree.
I geared up for a day filled with new discoveries and adventures. With a vivid mental map of unexplored spots, my enthusiasm was unmatched. However, having squandered precious morning hours, I found myself in a bit of a rush.
My cherry red Vespa eagerly awaited the day’s journey. But I needed a caffeine boost to match its energy. Unfortunately, my hotel’s coffee didn’t meet my standards, so I decided to venture out in search of the perfect cup.
Stepping onto the narrow, charming streets of Goa—a haven for those who appreciate history’s subtle remnants—I couldn’t help but marvel at the rustic beauty.
Tall coconut trees created a zig-zag canopy against the sky, and a tranquil silence enveloped the surroundings. The cafes were still yawning and waking up to another day of freshly brewed coffee. Tables were still empty, with an early riser here and there.
Feeling the urgency of time, I approached a quaint cafe counter, ready to place my order. The owner was nowhere in sight, so I patiently waited, realizing it might be too early for the bustling Goa life.
After a 10-minute wait, a middle-aged Russian lady, mascara still fresh, approached with a sorry-for-letting-you-wait look in her eyes. Already running late and eager to tick off my day’s agenda, I didn’t want to waste a moment. Before she could speak, my city-bred, automated coffee-ordering behavior kicked in.
“I need a takeaway cappuccino with a shot of hazelnut or Irish syrup,” I declared.
The lady, however, gave me an odd look, prompting me to repeat my request. To my surprise, she responded,
“We don’t pack, you only drink here.”
As I made my way to leave the cozy cafe, which was more like a room-sized haven, a feeling of foolishness washed over me.
The floor was covered with casually placed rugs, and the walls were adorned with paintings that could transport you into a trance. Feathers and grass hung gracefully on the door sides, creating a unique atmosphere. Each table held a book, bearing the impressions of readers who had immersed themselves in coffee and tales of another world just the day before
In that moment, I realized I was in Goa, a place where everything takes time because people here truly ‘have time.‘
Unlike the Vada Pao life of Mumbai where you are in a rush to have a quick meal, or heavy breakfast habits in Delhi where you need a lot of mental and physical strength to deal with the humdrum of existence, Goa takes it SLOW.
It’s a reminder to us city dwellers to appreciate the art of slowing down, savouring each moment.
Goa has an unhurried charm, where every cup of coffee tells a tale of relaxation and the beauty of taking life slow.
Have you been to Goa? What was you experience?
Cocooned in Curiosity 