et night but Claire was hungry so we just had a walk around the corner to Goodman’s; another English haunt that tends to look after people of my age or older. They play classic music from the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s and it’s very cheap. We shared an Indian all washed down with a Kingfisher each and toddled back home to have a HBO evening. Up bright and early we had done our internet duties quite quickly so I popped down the road to Anthony’s, where I got the bike from for petrol but there were crowds all around and what looked like a Bollywood film crew. There was nowhere to park so I shot back and picked Claire up and we walked down just in time to catch the end of filming before they packed up and left. Apparently they had been filming since 8am 
and this scene was set at a bike hire shop in Goa; I knew Anthony would make it big time one day. Although it wasn’t in English the acting seemed very melodramatic; I should have taken a video.
Excitement over and it was overcast again we grabbed breakfast in Goodman’s again where they had a charity sale where I bought a 2011 diary so I had some paper to work out the puzzles that Jack had set me. Good job we did stop as it threw it down with rain while we were in there. Once suitably refreshed and the rain had stopped it seemed a good time for me to get my long overdue hair cut. I was also in need of a shave but had never been given a shave by anyone else before in my life. This barber is just down the road from Star Beach where we are staying but they have them all over the place. This shop or shack is tiny but they still managed to have 4 barbers and 4 customers and there was still room for Claire to squeeze in and watch the entertainment. He started by cutting my hair in the old fashioned way with 3 clicks of the scissors in the air to 2 snips of the hair. Once finished he gives you a good old rub of the head and a sweep down with a yard
brush and talc before lowering the seat down into a reclined position with my head right back. This made my throat feel very vulnerable, especially when he was preparing his cut throat razor. He then sprayed my face and gave my chin a damn good rubbing before applying some sort of lotion which again he gave a good rubbing in. He dabbed a few spot of cream here and there
and set to with the shaving brush until I was extremely well lathered. It was hot in there and I was already sweating with the gown over me but now it was trickling down onto my face so he had to dry my brow and eyes with some tissues. He stood the shaving 
brush up and again prepared his cut throat razor starting at the top and working down towards my throat. He was very thorough pulling my face this way and that to get a taught skin especially around my nose and mouth. I was so relieved when he finally finished and started applying other lotions and potions and rubbing them in to but then he gave me another spray and applied more shaving cream again. He then shaved me from the bottom (well throat) up this time being equally as careful to pinch my skin taught as he shaved. Again I was relieved as he started giving me another rub down until he applied a third coat of lather. By this time my face was sore and I couldn’t imagine that I had any more hair to shave and I imagined that my tan had gone from the lower part of my face. This time though after giving another good rub he wiped it all off. By the time it took him to shave me I thought that I might need another hair cut; the barber obviously did too as out came the scissors to give me another trim all around the edges. By this time Claire was obviously bored and had gone for a wander and his cut throat came out once more. This time it was for around the back of my neck, then around my ears, then on my ears, then in my ears and finally up my nose. He couldn’t quite get up my nose far enough to reach the roots of my 
nasal hair so produced these long pointed scissors. He poked these so far up my nose while snipping I thought that I was going to sneeze. Now remember that we have a really crowded salon with barbers bumping into each other and I’m there with pointed scissors up to my tonsils and a cut throat razor in my ears while all this hussle bussle is going on. I felt that he was now at last finished as what else could he possibly have left to do to me. Just as I was reaching for my wallet he sprayed me with water again, but this time all over my face and applied some other unknown lotions rubbing them in again before giving my whole face a massage and finally rubbing in some aftershave. He then took his spray gun to my head and gave that another good spraying, applied yet more lotions and gave my head such a good rubbing that I could hardly stay on the chair. He then started slapping my head and hitting it w
ith the base of a clenched fist making a knocking sound as he did it. Now it was the turn of my neck and he gives that a good seeing to before twisting my head slowly and firmly until it cracked and then gave a final wrench until it cracked once again. He repeated this the other way and then got his scissors out again giving me yet another trim. Once satisfied with my hair he’s inside my ears with his scissors, then he trims my eyebrows and I swear he trimmed my eye lashes. By this time Claire is asleep on the ground outside with the stray dogs, as probably are any readers still with me so I will end. Who needs fairground for excitement when you can have a day and a half’s entertainment in a Goan barbers and all for 100 Rupees. As I got up to pay him I felt my chin and said to him, “That would have been the best shave I ever had if you hadn’t cut my throat”. I went out the door to wake Claire up and have a lie down in a darkened room.
We were both starving but had intended to go to Lucky Star tonight for dinner as they have entertainment on a Tuesday so we headed away from Colva on the bike in search of a snack. When we passed Lucky Star it was closed down so went around the corner to Caji’s Place which is supposed to have the be
st steaks in Colva but we had never been there before. When we parked outside we could see and hear one of the customers shouting us but couldn’t see who it was until we got inside. It was one of the Goan locals that used to drink in the Lucky Star and he told us the story of yet another place that had sold and closed down for renovation. Lucky Star was the first bar to open in Colva way back so it’s the end of an era. When places change hands, sometimes they get worse and sometimes they get better but so far we haven’t found anywhere that’s changed for the better. We tried Caji’s special steak and it was tender but not because of the quality of the meat but because it had been beaten to within and inch of its life. Claire shouted a little dog over, probably one of her new friends she had knapped with earlier, and it sat at our table allowing all it’s little jumpy flies to jump all over me. The dog flies over here can’t fly properly; they just jump a long way with the aid of their wings for distance and sort of hover until they find a new host. The steaks are cheap there but its not top quality so we headed home stopping off at the little girl we met on our fir
st trip here but I have forgotten her name now. She was only 16 when we first met her and her mum is a gypsy. We always feel obliged to but something from her shop and Claire bought a sarong that she kept calling a sari. She made me one of those friendship bracelets, we took some photo’s, had a moan about the Russians and came back into Colva to our favourite travel agents. We sat in The Meeting Point to ask about flights to the little group of islands off the west coast of India called the Lakshadweep Islands. I found them on Google Earth just before we left and they look as if they might be part of the same archipelago as the Maldives. Looking at some of the pictures on Google Earth they are beautiful but strangely you can only fly to them from Chennai which is on the east coast and the flights are Rs20,000 return each. You can’t fly direct from Goa to Chennai, you have to fly via Mumbai for another Rs30,000 so it’s ridiculously expensive if not impossible in the time we have remaining. Back to base for another HBO evening and an early night ready for our early start to the Dudhsager water falls tomorrow morning. We had intended to go by local train and walk to the 4x4 vehicles that take you through the rivers to the falls but the station at Margao was a nightmare. We asked at the 
info desk and he told us that the only train left at 7.48am and returned at 5pm so we went to join the long queue for tickets to save time in the morning. We finally got there to be told that you can only buy tickets on the same day as you travel; trouble is he also told us that it left at 8am. We didn’t fancy being trapped in the middle of nowhere for the entire day, especially with the uncertainty of the times so we asked our friendly taxi driver Julius for a day out in his taxi. We have also known Julius a long time but can you guess what we call him?
Bad luck with your driving test Georgina, better luck next time. Better get it booked up again before our next rubbish winter starts.
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