Panjim and Old Goa

Upon arriving at the airport in Goa, which is really nothing more than an old military landing strip, complete with old Russian aircraft rusting away, we decided to head to Panjim, the more touristy city close by. Of note was the 30 degree heat, a welcome change from the weather, which was getting down to about 5 or 10 degrees at night in Delhi.

Panjim proved to be culturally refreshing. The touts did not follow us for blocks; they would ask if we wanted their service, then go back to relaxing. People were not starting fires in the streets. Come to think of it, the streets almost seemed clean. There was not an excess of people flooding the street either. Was this really still India?

After finding a restaurant with a nice atmosphere, we ordered a much different dinner than we had been accustomed to: fish. Hard to find in the north, fish and fish curries are very common in the south. We were happy to partake, and I ordered the barracuda. Mike had stuffed lobster, and Sam had seafood pasta. The total bill came to about $20. Later we found a one hour cruise boat that we decided to take the next night.

The next day, Sam and I headed to Old Goa to check out some of the historical sites there. Being the center of the old Portuguese colony, there was bound to be plenty of interesting historical sites.

After a half an hour bus ride, we were able to walk around the small town. After malaria and cholera outbreaks, the Portuguese moved the capital, and all that remains are the religious buildings. Due to the tropical climate, the (mostly likely) beautiful painting and engraving on the walls was plastered over, and now only a white color remains in each of them. In the picture, you can see the original painting, the first time it was painted over in pink, and the most recent time it was painted over in white. The altars, which were also originally quite spectacular, are less than impressive. This is mainly due to the fact they are gilded, and most of the gold has worn away due to time and lack of maintenance.

Without going into too much of the history, there were a few interesting pieces. At the viceroy’s arch at the entrance to the town from the river, there is a statue of a bible-toting figure with his foot on the throat of a native (pictured). St. Catherine’s Cathedral is actually bigger than any church in Portugal and took eighty years to build. During the Inquisition, the ringing of the golden bell signified that auto da fes were taking place, which meant the public could come to heckle and torture suspected heretics in the plaza outside. We also went to the Archbishop’s Palace, the Church of St. Francis of Assisi, the Basilica of Bom Jesus, and finally Holy Hill. In the Chapel of Our Lady of the Rosary is the tomb of Catarina a Piro, the first woman to set foot in the colony.

After six hours of hiking around town, we went back to Panjim, where Mike had been working all day. Upon our return, we went to a ultra-modern (by India’s standards anyway) European café, complete with espresso drinks, extravagant pastries, and gelato. Seriously, this does not even feel like the same country as Agra and Delhi.