Agonda to Arambol

Three buses and a few hours later and we have reached the happening little beach town of Arambol (also known as Harmal). Instantly it is fascinating with its labyrinth like streets overflowing with every kind of market imaginable, yet it’s not overwhelming like Delhi. It reminds me of a thousand ‘Tree of life’ stores stacked side by side selling every imaginable kind of incense, all kinds of clothes and jewelry, bags, bongs, tattoos, fruits and vegetables. It is a hippie’s heaven. In fact (and excuse the stereotype) but I have never seen so many people with dreadlocks in the one place. I’m keen to try but chicken out and get braids – teeny tiny braids, some 200 of them!

Initially I am annoyed at the beach. Although its waters are clear the sand is littered with cigarette butts, beer bottles and plastic wrappers, most of which has been left by these ‘foreign hippies’. It makes me think that if these self confessed tree hugging, earth loving hippies practiced what they preached the beach would be a lot cleaner. But this is India and nothing makes sense and it’s hard to stay angry for too long.

We end up staying in the first room we see. It’s on the hilltops overlooking the beach with amazing ocean views. To top it off there is a pod of dolphins frequenting the area and we have watched them play outside our room day and night for some days now.

I must mention we have been back on the Indian food for a week or so now and it turns out I have the weakest stomach in India because Delhi Belly is back with vengeance. Avoiding Indian food is not really an option given we are living in India and I don’t fancy taken antibiotics every second week, oh and there is no actual doctor near to where we are so we head off to see the Ayurvedic Medicine Doctor (or witch doctor as Brent calls him). Stay tuned!