Hitchhikers' guide to Goa
Back from a trip to the coastal state, three city girls shatter myths about female travel in India.
Goa is inarguably one of the country’s favourite holiday havens, but for Heena D’souza, Ishika Ray and Sukanya Sharma, who have just returned from their trip to the coastal state, it was the journey that was far more intriguing than the destination. That’s because unlike other city slickers, who get on a flight or hop on to the Konkan Kanya, the girls hitchhiked their way to Goa, all on a measly budget of Rs 100 per day.
It was a casual conversation in the office that led to the most adventurous trip of their life, relives Heena D’Souza. “We were planning a trip in general, when it occurred to us that Sukanya had never been to Goa, and we decided to zero in on that. The idea of hitchhiking just came about as a means to make the trip more fun. Before we knew it, we were planning our trip in all seriousness,” she says.
The tasks were well divided — Ishika, an architect by profession, was in charge of planning the route and stopovers, filmmaker Heena was to look into documenting the trip with her camera, and Sukanya Sharma, a wildlife enthusiast, was in charge of researching for the trip by speaking to other hitchhikers.
The first thing that stood out in Sukanya’s research was the fact that very few women had attempted hitchhiking in India. They did, however, find one book that went on to became a textbook of sorts — The Heat and Dust Project. Written by Devapriya Roy and Sourav Jha, ‘the broke couple’s guide to Bharat’ bordered on a similar road that the girls were on.
Armed with a backpack that held tents, sleeping bags and a small stove, their journey began from Fort. “The first day itself, we over shot our budget because the ferry ticket to Alibaug cost us Rs 125. This meant cutting down the budget on the consecutive days, to keep up with the budget limit,” they tell us. Thankfully for the girls, their accommodation in Alibaug was sorted by an acquaintance they made on that ferry. “We spoke to one gentleman, who suggested that we stay at a particular wadi. The locals there were very hospitable. The women even offered us food because they were so concerned!” laughs Ishika. That was only the first glimpse of the goodness of strangers that was to be a constant on the trip, she adds.
On the road:
“Our only plan was to get on the road by 7am so that we could reach the destination latest by 4pm. We covered an average of 60 to 70 km every day, except for two days, when we drove continuously for 120 km and 140 km; once because the stretch was too scenic and the other to save time,” they share.
Tempos, tumtums (rickshaw) and trucks, apart from a couple of private vehicles mostly came to the girls rescue. “There were times when we were hesitant to get on a rickshaw because we were scared it would throw our budget constraints out of the window. There were drivers and co-passengers who actually offered to buy our tickets! We had to tell them that we were on a project but they insisted that they pay for it because they thought we didn’t have any money,” recounts Sukanya. “This one time we also had to push the vehicle because it broke down mid-way,” adds Ishika.
Accommodation:
The plan, says Heena, was to reach any place long before the sun goes down. “These places get really deserted after nightfall, so we had to make it a point to know where we’ll be staying before that happens. On day one of the trip, we were scouting for a location to put up put up our tent close to a famous eatery. The owner was so hospitable that he insisted we stay put in one of his extra rooms — for no charge of course,” smiles Ishika.
The girls had chalked out places near temples throughout the route. “Because a lot of campers had told us that temples accommodate travellers. In Harihareshwar, we met a panditji who offered us a roof inside the mandir for the night,” recalls Sukanya. But that wasn’t all. “He was also an environmentalist who worked towards turtle conservation, in association with a hatchery close to the temple. We accompanied him to the beach for his work, but too bad there were no turtle spotting on that day,” she laments. “That had to be the most adventurous night.”
In Guhagar, the girls tracked down a campsite near a police station. “They station actually posted a female constable for the night to ensure that we were safe. She kept a check on us through the night,” pitches in Heena.
Lessons learnt
After a rustic few days on the road for eight days, the girls reached Goa on the ninth day. The experience, they say, has been the most enriching one so far. Would they suggest other women take up a journey of the sort? “Yes of course,” comes a unanimous reply. Here’s what they took away from the trip:
Ishika: There are nice people everywhere. They are hospitable and kind. The perception that it’s a big, bad world out there may be a bit exaggerated. We managed to see through our project because we trusted in the goodness of the people.
Sukanya: I’d say, ‘blend in’. If you look like an outsider, people will treat you like an outsider. Even language won’t act as a barrier if you make an attempt to understand the people and sympathise with them. Also, be respectful of the local culture.
Heena: For me, it was busting the myth that people in the cities are more evolved than their rural friends, or that urban communities have a better lifestyle compared to rural areas. I realised that villages have a more evolved community culture — they know how to survive as a close-knit community, they have more social activities to engage in, despite having no pubs or bars. They have a healthier diet, better living conditions and have a better, more evolved sense of life. They know how to trust people and are not judgemental — some qualities urban societies could really do with.