I remember the breakfasts in Goa. Cornflakes and milk, toast and omelets, not to mention milkshakes, sausages and porridge, baked beans on buns, rounded off with a steaming cup of hot coffee. Yum yum… Why am I remembering all these?
Also the long walks, all the way to Calangute, the beach houses, the sand and the sea, not to mention the lovely sunsets we used to see, dolphins in the distance. The mehndi tattoos, the lovely shopping at the market, not to mention the half closed flea market. The long drives too. The damn rains, the crowded parties at night, the late nights.
The awesome shacks at the beach, what lovely chairs! Why in the world am I remembering these? Maybe its time I went back or at least to a place very like it. :)