The Trigger

August 2015. Two years on Mumbai soil. The IIT Powai campus where I had been living sits at one edge of Sanjay Gandhi National Park; Borivali Station and the park’s main arch sit at the other. I had been living inside the park for two years and had not actually walked into it. A free Sunday and a friend with the same lapse. Time to fix it.

The park is rawer than the campus version of forest I was used to. We did not get close to a real exploration; for this trip we stuck to one element, the Kanheri caves.

History notes, via Wikipedia: 109 caves, carved out of basalt, dating from the 1st century BCE to the 10th century CE. Most served as Buddhist viharas, used for living, studying, and meditation.

Park entry can be paid online or at the gate. From there, government buses run on a schedule to the foot of the caves; the bus charges separately. Caves themselves carry a nominal entry fee on top.

Inside, it is essentially a chain of caves with Buddha engravings and towering statues. The central vihara, the prayer hall, is the one part that holds the visitor’s attention. Architecturally, not much else has survived intact. Up the winding staircase, water seeps from above and pools across the rock; the steps go slick fast.

The top opens to a meadow. Trails lead from there into forest that climbs further. Wildflowers along the path. View earns the climb.

A shop near the entrance sells water and cold drinks. Roadside food shows up at intervals. The bus back to the gate runs about 20 minutes.

Field Notes

• Avoid public holidays. We did not. Lesson logged.
• Picnic crowd, not heritage crowd. Families with food spreads. The mood is wrong if you came for the caves.
• Drive in if you can. The bus loop limits how much of the park you can cover. A car opens up everything beyond the caves.
• Plastic bottles are confiscated at the gate. Then sold inside. Carry a refillable.
• Watch the water edges. Snakes work the wet rocks. Step deliberately.
• Inside city limits. No travel logistics. That is the only easy thing about this trip.

One Recommendation

Touch the rock. Most of what you walk past has been holding its shape for 2000 years. The doorway Buddha is the most legible piece on the route.

This one was a thin post. Better one coming.

Promise.
Sayantan

The Trigger

My father had been telling me about Goa since the Bollywood era. The personal checklist of obvious-things-to-do from Mumbai had it pencilled in for years. February 2015. A long weekend, a group of seven, and finally enough alignment to book it. The trip below is the strenuous one. Also the satisfying one. The frame at the edge of Panaji is the one we picked to remember it by.

The Departure

IRCTC was full. We pivoted to Paulo Travels via Redbus. Non-AC seater, comfortable enough. Departed Sion at 6pm Thursday. 15 hours of road ahead.

First halt: Central Park dhaba on the Mumbai-Pune highway. Food is priced higher than the quality earns. Eat lightly. The hours ahead do not appreciate a heavy meal.

The bus stopped at dawn after a stretch of road that rearranged everyone in their seat. You can brush and have breakfast here. I skipped, so cannot rate the food.

We got off at Mapusa because our stay was closer to the north. Convenient: travel agencies and bike-rental stalls cluster at the same intersection. We picked a Scooty (250 INR/day) and a Pulsar (350 INR/day). Driver’s licence as deposit. Always take the receipt and a helmet, in case of an inspection. Petrol on us. Cars, jeeps, and Harleys are available if you ask the right shop.

The Stay

Student budget. Online research pointed at Sea Shore Beach Resort. Strong TripAdvisor rating, mostly because of location: 30 seconds from Calangute beach, easy on the wallet. The “resort” word is generous; calibrate accordingly. Site: seashorebeachresort.com. Mr. Devanand and Mr. Arshad run a tight, friendly operation.

The lane is easy to overshoot. Land on Calangute, look for Mocha, take the turn there. Ask for second-floor rooms; they were recently refurbished and have the better views. Amenities: AC, TV, geyser, extra bed, and food service from the ground-floor eatery until 10:30pm. Four bachelors fit comfortably.

Calangute Beach

Steps from the resort. Shacks and sunbathers along the strip.

Blue sky, clear water, white sand. Walking on it is its own thing.

We took the wider route into the water. Calangute is shallow for a long stretch out from shore. You can wade in further than instinct suggests.

Lunch shifted to the open-air shack Spice Wok. Afternoon sun, decent food.

We had to ride later, so mocktails not cocktails. Cranberry was the pick of the lot.

Aguada Fortress

Bikes up the hill.

Aguada Fort. Portuguese for “water place.” Built 1612.

Most of the structure has held up under heavy footfall. The white lighthouse on the property ran until 1976. The interior is closed to visitors.

On the way down we spotted a turn for Aguada Jail. It is a working jail; further entry not allowed. There is a path on its right flank that drops down a flight of stairs.

From the lower stones, the sea is much closer than it was on the bastion.

Top of the fort and the rocks at sea level read as two different places.

Dona Paula

Through Panaji to the Dona Paula viewpoint, just in time for the sunset window. Elevated, crowded, lined with stalls selling hats, sunglasses, and Goa-print clothing.

Bated breath as the sun dropped to meet the sea.

And then it was gone. The blue went to a flat dark.

The Cruise

A wine shopkeeper sold us cruise tickets at a discount. Middle and upper deck are open to everyone for free. The lower deck is a floating disco — free for women, 50 INR for men.

We stayed on the upper deck. Cultural performance covers Goan tradition first. Then the live DJ takes over and the deck becomes a dance floor.

The Mandovi at night does the rest of the work. Lights along both banks, water carrying the reflection.

The Buildings

On the second day, the houses kept catching the eye through the visor.

Most churches stick to white. The houses around them carry the colour. The contrast holds the postcard look together.

Chapora Fort

Through narrow lanes to a barren shoulder of land where Chapora sits.

You park the bikes at the base. The walk up is non-trivial.

Earned at the top.

The walk in midday sun gets you a tan. The view earns the sweat.

And then the corner. The Dil Chahta Hai spot. The title-track frame, specifically.

From here you can already see the curve of the next stop.

Vagator Beach

Two parking spots. Top is paid and gives you the elevated landscape; bottom is free, next to a shack. Vagator is one of the cheapest beaches for water sports.

Park at the bottom unless you specifically want the upper view.

The water-sports package: 1600 INR. They take you out by boat to a deep-water platform for banana ride, water bikes, bump rides. Parasailing is a separate add-on; carry an extra 200 INR if you want the sea-dip during the ride.

Wrap your camera or phone in plastic before you board. The salt comes for it.

Ranking: Banana Ride first. They drop you mid-ocean without warning. Bump Ride is the simplest fun, like a Mumbai water park. Water bikes, they will let you steer if you can ride the land version. Be careful with the throttle.

Some preferred to stay on the sand, in floral T-shirts that are exclusively a Goa thing.

End of session, end of arguments about who is doing what.

The ride back was cocktail-shaped. Coffee, bloody, lagoon.

One member of the group had to fly back early for work. From here we were six.

Saturday Night Market

Asking what makes Goa Goa? This market. North Goa, Saturday only. Locals and tourists pack it. Built around Goan food, music, and the sheer volume of stuff for sale.

Pure energy.

The path winds upward through stalls.

Arabian band Anna RF was on the live stage at the centre. Their channel. Their Rikshawalla track is the gateway. Jump is the one that closes you out.

The night was nowhere near over.

Old Goa

Lila Cafe and Tito’s are the two clubs that get most of the press. We were short on time and had to skip them this round.

The last morning was Old Goa. We crossed Panjim on the way.

The route runs along the Mandovi again. Wind in the visor.

Lunch at Hotel Annapurna near the Basilica. Plain dhaba, easy on the budget. Thalis at 100 INR.

The Churches

The Basilica of Bom Jesus is the headline. Red brick, large, well-photographed for a reason.

The interior is what carries the visit.

Walk up to the no-photography zone where history runs as a series of paintings. The cathedral houses relics from churches around the world that arrived through Goa’s stretch of foreign invasion. The Church of St. Francis of Assisi opposite has the museum that explains it.

Pale exterior, full interior.

Further on, the ruins of St. Augustine. The story is on the welcome signboard.

Pulled back, this is the scale of the destruction.

And here is the inside.

The Temple

Shanta Durga is at the foot of Kavalem village.

A row of shops between parking and the temple steps.

Indo-Portuguese architecture. There is an unused water tank at the back. Inside is another no-photography zone. The local belief: the deity grants what you ask.

Then we rushed back to the hotel, checked out, and caught Atmaram Travels from Mapusa at 6:30pm. Booking via Ibibo. The return ride was long and sleepy. Off the bus near Sion at 10am.

Field Notes

• Two-wheelers over cars. Skip the traffic, double the spots you cover, half the rental cost.
• Use the road signs, then ask locals. Everybody here knows everywhere. Trust them over Maps when both disagree.
• Sunscreen. Use it. Otherwise your skin will peel for a week, like mine.
• Helmets if you ride. Cops will fine you. Take the helmet from the rental shop.
• UV shades, not street shades. Coloured plastic from the roadside is useless under this sun.
• Ignore offers from strangers. On beaches at night and on the road during the day. Hotel agents and shopkeepers are the trustworthy info channels.
• Do not litter. The water is clean. Popular beaches are not, mostly because of beer cans.
• Drink, do not get drunk. Past a point you stop being fun for everyone around you.

One Recommendation

Order the King Fish. It is large, mild, and culturally indigenous to the Goan plate. Baked is the format we tried. The teeth told us the hunters here are also the hunted. There are richer recommendations available, but King Fish is the one that earns the section.

Until next time,
Aloha,
Sayantan

The Trigger

A free Saturday in February. The plan: ferry to Alibaug, lunch on the coast, climb the sea-fort, ferry back before sunset. Easiest start point is Churchgate or CST, then a cab to the Gateway of India.

We boarded the same ferry counter that runs to Elephanta. Schedule and rate chart here. Our pick: Maldar Ferry, non-AC, top deck, wind in face.

90 minutes across the bay. The Bombay dockyard parade unfolds on the way: cargo, naval, ferries of every girth, with seagulls picking off whatever the wakes turn up. Agneepath fans, yes, this is that Mandwa. The jetty is clean and well-kept, a surprise after Mumbai’s standard.

From the jetty steps, the Arabian Sea reads calmer, bluer, less encroached than any Mumbai beach. Crabs scuttle around your feet. Banana rides operate further down. The garbage line that follows every popular Bombay beach is missing here.

The complimentary bus into Alibaug town runs every 30 minutes. We were impatient and hungry. We took an auto for 450 INR over rough road. Worse roads exist. The ride was fine.

Try Neera on the way. It is fresh palm-tree sap, cold, and only available in the morning. After noon, it ferments past the point you want to drink it.

On reaching Alibaug beach, the lunch hunt began. Restaurants line the road, but every paanwala unanimously pointed to Hotel Samman. About 20 minutes on foot from the beach, in a sun that did not help. We walked it anyway, through the coastal lanes.

Veg thalis are reasonably priced and the room is better kept than the menu suggests.

If you eat fish, the Konkani thali is the order. The flavour is regional and uncompromised.

Order the oyster masala on the side. It does not come with the thali. I never got a photo because all my attention went into the oysters. We closed lunch with cold drinks.

Walking back, we hit the beach entrance again. Resorts line the strip on either side.

Here is the calculation. Kolaba Fort sits in the sea, walkable on foot at low tide. We were at high tide. No spare clothes. Group split in half: one team committed to swimming over with what they had on, the other took a 100 INR speedboat that crosses in five minutes. I had the camera. I took the boat.

The fort holds up better than its hill counterparts. Walls broken in places but the structure still reads. Footprint is large. The information tablet at the entrance lays out the basics.

Then a moment to sit. The rocks at the corner of Kolaba run as long as you want them to. Dil Chahta Hai framing in the head, eyes scanning back across the water for the swim team to confirm they were still alive.

They were not visible from the fort. We moved on to the inner caverns and observation slits. Several of the ports clearly served as lookouts for incoming threats from the water.

A small white temple stands in the center. The far end of the fort is in worse shape than the entrance.

Mandatory cannon. Children doing what children do with a cannon, photographed from a Canon.

Update on the swim team: they did not make a quarter of the distance. They had pivoted to throwing wet sand at each other instead. Both gangs got the trip they wanted.

Back on the beach, water sports operators were drying their gear and themselves. If you want a camel ride or a banana boat, this is the strip.

End of the beach: changing rooms, separate by gender, properly maintained. In front: a row of street stalls running golas, corn on the cob, and assorted snacks.

The thing to track is the last ferry. Miss it and the bus back to Bombay takes 3.5 hours. Mandwa Jetty at sunset earns the wait.

Amazing is undersold.

On the return crossing, the seagulls do their thing. They will take chips out of your hand. Cameras started failing as the light dropped.

Field Notes

• Get there early. Nagaon beach reportedly beats Alibaug for swimming. We never made it. Late and lazy.
• Ferry, not bus. Bus is 3.5 hours and a sentence. Ferry is the trip.
• Spare clothes if you swim. Otherwise carry an extra 100 INR for the speedboat.
• Try Konkani food. Marine fish, prepared local. Neera before noon; after that it has turned.
• Keep GPS on. Useful for restaurants, bus stops, and the way back to the jetty.

One Recommendation

Feed the seagulls on the return ferry. Chips work. Biscuits get ignored. Both are sold at the jetty. The other thing worth holding the camera up for: Mumbai’s lights from the middle of the bay at night.

That frame took more attempts than I want to admit. Worth it.

Until next time,
Sayantan

Update (2020)

I went back to Alibaug for company offsites. The format was a bus ride to a farmhouse, well clear of the touristy beaches. The first one was fun. I was the camera guy and the experience was new. The second visit, same farmhouse, same plan, was a flat repeat.

I tried to skip the third and was talked into it. A colleague and I made an excuse and left early. The way out was a 9-seater shared auto with the local villagers heading to the ferry point. That hour was honestly more fun than the offsite that produced it.

The Trigger

First Saturday of January 2015. A senior at the institute was already in Mumbai Explorers, a meetup.com trekking group, and the new-year hike to Manikgad Fort had open seats. Twenty trekkers signed up, half of them from my department. New year hike turned into a class outing.

Wherever you are in Mumbai, the route is the same: get to the central line, board a train to Panvel, target a 7:30am arrival at the latest. Anything later and you risk descending in the dark. From Panvel, you need a vehicle to the village at the foot of the climb.

We crammed into two Tata Sumos. A bus is cheaper if your group can wait for one. A local guide on the climb itself: 500 INR. Worth every rupee. Trekkers get lost on this trail. Stock food and water in the village before you start. Glucose, basic first aid, grip-tested shoes.

Numbers to absorb before the boots hit dirt. 13 km up. 13 km back. Summit at 1800 feet. No clean trail. Monsoon brings rain, fog, slick rock. January brings sun that does not quit and dries everything around you to kindling.

From the village, the route opens onto black granite, then green patches of low forest, then dried hay that turns lush in monsoon. The first target is not the summit; it is the top of an intermediate plateau. We cut through hay to get there.

Past the plateau came a long meadow with the sun doing the work the climb usually does. Then grassy terrain with thin streams. The guide finally pointed at the real summit. From the plateau we could see the peak. We had to do it again, twice over.

The next section is dense forest with random boulders for grip. Paths fork without warning into dead ends. Group speeds diverged. We got lost once. I caught a tree branch with my forehead.

Two members of the group hit limits. A middle-aged trekker came close to turning back. A girl cycled through panic and tears. The pace cracked. People fell behind.

The rescue cost us 30 minutes. Past that we passed a wrecked Hanuman shrine with a Shiva linga, then a barren ridge of loose rock where every step had to be deliberate. Photography paused. Center of gravity took priority.

Then the fort. The first thing you cheer for is the water pond inside the broken castle.

Most of the group collapsed flat on the ground for a quick nap.

Bottles were dry. The cisterns we found held water that was unusable. The pond a few steps below, fed by rainwater, became the only option. We drank from it.

If you came up expecting fortifications, calibrate down. The fort is mostly broken bricks now, with a scatter of coloured flags strung on top. Manikgad rewards the climb itself, not the destination.

Descent at 3pm. Winter days are long enough that this works. We took close to three hours down. The descent is harder than the climb if your shoes start slipping; walk straight, hold center of gravity, use a stick.

Scrolling these photos later, I kept thinking about the Maratha builders who hauled material this far up. The view from the top answers the question. The fort was a watch post. From here you see threats coming long before they arrive. The fog problem is the part I still cannot solve.

Field Notes

• Water and dry food are non-negotiable. You do not survive this without them.
• Grip beats brand. Especially in monsoon. Test your shoes before you leave.
• Carry a torch. Wikipedia lists panthers in the area. Locals say none remain. Plan for the older claim.
• Budget. A lean run goes for ~150 INR. Ours was 400 INR all-in (food, guide, Sumo).
• Not for the weak-hearted. Said with feeling.
• Camera choice. A point-and-shoot or light DSLR earns its keep on this trail. We carried a P&S, a Canon 1200D, and a Nikon 5300D. Most of our shots were on the Nikon, whose memory card was lost in an auto on the way back. Backup. Always.

One Recommendation

Look up at 10am. We caught the sun and the gibbous moon at the same time, courtesy the altitude. Easy frame, hard to forget.

Different terrain in the next post.

Until next time,
Sayantan

The Trigger

December 2014. Abhishek calls from Powai: he’s heading to Lavasa with his family for a day trip and there’s a seat in the cab. Friends had been writing the place off for years. Underdeveloped. Half-finished. A political mess. I went in deliberately blind. No Google. No expectations. Best decision of the trip.

We left Powai at 7am in a TaxiForSure cab. Three of us, 186 km of expressway between Mumbai and the Sahyadris. Pre-sunrise traffic out of Mumbai is not a fight you pick. You endure it.

The Mumbai-Pune Expressway carries the easiest stretch of the run: six lanes, well-built, the kind of road you forget you are on. We pulled over for breakfast at the standard halt, a strip of canteens lining the parking lot where every Mumbai-Pune driver eventually stops.

Three hours in, the highway peels off and the road starts climbing. The spiral begins. Inclines steepen. Corners tighten. Then the bridge appears. That is the city.

Lavasa is built on borrowed grammar: Copenhagen waterfront, Venetian footbridges, painted facades stacked along an artificial lake. The planning is so deliberate it almost feels staged. Paved walks. Arched bridges. A complete absence of the roadside chaos every Indian eye is calibrated for.

The promenade carries Cafe Coffee Day, Baskin Robbins, a mini theatre, and a string of restaurants. Children play on the sidewalks. Sidewalks that are actually swept.

The environmental case against Lavasa is real and well-documented; political battles have stalled the project for years. From the ground, though, it is hard to see brutality in this much greenery. Tree cover threads through brick and stone. A clearing here, a stairwell there.

If you have brought kids, the toy budget burns fast. Tandem bicycles. Mini four-wheelers from XThrill. Segway-style personal transporters. Each ride: around 500 INR.

The Lavasa International Centre is the orientation point: stay options, sports bookings, and the case for owning a home in the gap between Mumbai’s hustle and Pune’s keyboards.

We did not stay overnight. We should have. The lakefront apartments on the prime stretch are the kind of view you book for a quiet weekend, not a day visit.

Water rides open in the afternoon at the far end of the lake. Rowing and motorboating run around 1000 INR. After dusk, the promenade lights up and the whole place shifts register.

One thing: bring a real camera. Mine was a Nikon D5200 paired with a 50mm prime, and that lens did 90% of the work in this post. Abhishek shot a Nikon D3100 with a 55-200mm. Both handled the light. Lake reflections and bridge geometry deserve more than a phone.

Field Notes

• Day trip vs overnight. Day trips are cheap. Overnights are not. Pricing climbs hard once you book a room, so plan for the latter if you are committing.
• Eat at Oriental Octopus. Their seven-course Chinese set is 400 INR and the best value on the strip. Indian, Lebanese, Mughlai, Italian, and American options are also available.
• Audience matters. Lavasa is engineered for relaxation, not nightlife. If you are 20-something rolling in with friends, you will be bored by 6pm. Bring family.
• Drive with GPS on. Even local drivers get confused near the final ascent. Ours did. Google Maps fixed it.
• Detailed info: www.lavasa.com or the International Centre on the ground.

One Recommendation

Kiwi juice at Oriental Octopus. Cold, sharp, slightly tart. Order it twice.

Next post: a trek.

Until then,
Sayantan

Revisited (2020)

I went back twice after this trip. Both times worse. Chains had shuttered, maintenance had slipped, and the entry fee stayed steep. The crowds had thinned to nothing. Lavasa looks closer to a ghost town now than to the city in these photos, and the politics never resolved.

If Maharashtra is on your list and this is your first visit, there are better places to spend a weekend. Lavasa is a story now, more than a destination.