Goa: From Zoom Calls to Sunsets: Our Chaotic-But-Perfect Pandemic Escape

Remember the great indoor experiment of 2020? The year when "stay home" became the national mantra, and our weekends were a thrilling blur of Zoom calls, Dalgona coffee disasters, and trying to bake bread like we were in a survival series. After months of that, the travel-starved soul ached for freedom. So, in January 2021, when the world seemed to take a collective deep breath, our family had one thought: Goa. Our salvation, our promised land.

The Inevitable Goa Saga: A Tale of Delays & Duty-Free

The planning was as serious as a military operation. We spent weekends shopping online, with my wife treating it as a sacred ritual. The day of the flight arrived, and I was filled with a familiar dread. Our last Goa trip in 2019 was a saga of its own, with a notorious flight cancellation. This time, our flight was delayed by just an hour.

I sighed with relief, but my wife, the ever-optimistic shopper, saw a divine gift.

"One hour is perfect," she said, her eyes gleaming. "More time for duty-free."

I looked at her, exasperated. "Honey, do you know what duty-free is? It's the biggest sucker deal in retail. How much is the duty? Nothing!" (That was a Seinfeld reference, by the way. If you’re a fan.) She simply smiled, grabbed my arm, and dragged me toward the chocolates. I was a man of principles, but also a man who knew when to surrender.

We finally boarded, and the excitement was at an all-time high. It was our first vacation in over a year, and the feeling of the plane taking off was pure, unadulterated bliss. We landed in Goa, got to our favorite resort, and after a much-needed nap, it was time for the moment I’d been dreaming of for so, so long: Betalbatim beach.

A Parallel Goa: Where the Vibe Was Different

It was a Sunday evening, and the beach felt… different. The usual chaotic tapestry of international tourists was gone. There were just a few locals and us. It was a quieter, more serene vibe, like a silent film version of Goa. I tried to explain this to my son.

"It's so quiet, isn't it, buddy?" I said. "Where are all the foreign tourists?"

He shrugged. "Maybe they're still doing Zoom calls."

His answer was a perfect summary of our lives. It was eerie without the usual crowds, but also incredibly peaceful. This was our pandemic travel in its purest form: a lazy, restorative vacation that was a welcome break from the work-from-home grind. We followed the same ritual every day: early to bed, early to rise. We were living like a pair of octogenarians, but with more cocktails.

The Great Scooter Adventure: Or, How We Almost Died for a Beach

After a few days of serene bliss, we decided to get adventurous. We decided to visit Cola beach, a 40-kilometer journey. Self-drive cars were booked solid, so we opted for a scooter. The ride was beautiful until the last 2 kilometers. The "road" was a dusty, rocky, zig-zagging obstacle course designed specifically to destroy scooters and our backsides. It felt less like a road and more like a lunar landscape.

We finally reached the beach, which was a marvel. It even had a so-called "sweet water lake" next to it. My wife, in a moment of pure scientific curiosity, tasted the water.

"It's not sweet at all," she said, looking betrayed. "Why do they call it sweet water?"

I shrugged. "Maybe it's sweet to a fish who's been swimming in the ocean all day."

After giving up on a crowded shack, we decided to head back. That’s when the "incident" happened.

We were about to get on the scooter when my kid, in a moment of pure, unadulterated innocence, grabbed the handle and twisted the accelerator. My hands were off the bars. The scooter lurched forward, jumped, and was dragged for a few agonizing meters before it hit a fallen tree at the edge of the road, just inches from a deep valley.

My heart stopped. My life flashed before my eyes—mostly clips of me answering work emails at 2 AM.

My wife's voice was surprisingly calm. "Don't fall!" she commanded.

I was more worried about what I would say to my family after we went down the ravine. "This is it," I thought. "My last blog post will be my epitaph."

The scooter stopped. We were safe. I immediately checked for major injuries. I looked at my arm, which was all scratched and bleeding. My cargos were torn. But the most devastating injury was to my phone. I held it up, and my heart sank. My camera lens was shattered. The one part of me that could capture this traumatic, hilarious moment… was broken

The Aftermath & The Takeaway

We carefully cleaned our wounds at a medical store and made our way back to the resort. The rest of the trip was a gentle continuation of our lazy routine, with one exception: we avoided the pool, not wanting our wounds to get infected.

This was not the perfect vacation we had planned. It was full of chaos, near-disasters, and a broken phone camera. But it was a trip that broke the monotony of lockdown, reconnected us with nature, and reminded us that life—even with its bumps and near-falls—is an incredible adventure. It also taught me a valuable lesson: always pack an emergency medical kit, and for God's sake, don't let a toddler near a scooter.

P.S. This is the smallest blog ever of any any place I have been to, because we didn't go out much. Be safe and take care.