On the way to Karwar, there are times when the highway runs parallel to the coastline, the molten sand shimmering in the distance as lazy waves meander ever closer before tailing out at the edge of the beach. At one point, we spotted a gap in the palm trees dotting the wayside and immediately pulled up and into the space, hoping it would lead us to the beach, and it did. Even better, though, was this narrow outcropping of rock and sand that led about a kilometre and a half into the sea itself. The photo op was too good to miss, so putting my faith in the Santa Fe’s 4×4 capabilities that hadn’t let me down yet, I drove on to the bulwark. There was just about enough space for the Santa Fe to drive on, and the sand gave me no trouble at all. As I reversed back off the rampart I kept a keen eye on the Santa Fe’s centre console and the live feed from the reverse cam that was displayed there, watching out for the bigger rocks that held the potential to make things awkward for me at this juncture. Having avoided the rocks successfully, I rewarded myself (and the rest of the crew by default) with some delicious coconut water, after all its the little things like this that end up defining road trips, isn’t it?
Suddenly, I had an epiphany. We were almost in Goa! Why was I waiting around? My life suddenly had direction, and with a vigour that almost made my colleagues worry (the keyword being almost) I high-tailed it back to the car and hit the highway running (proverbially, of course). I was tapping my foot to ‘Every Teardrop is a Waterfall’ by alt 
rockers Coldplay (yes, I did turn the music up), and the steady thump of the bass was a perfect companion for this leg of the journey, as the Santa Fe bore the brunt for my sudden haste. In a short span of time, we were in Karwar, and since it is a naval base and a port town, it made sense to sample the fisherman’s fresh catch, especially since lunch time was nigh upon us. So we disembarked at the famed Amrut (I know it’s famous because it literally has a wall of fame as soon as you enter, with pictures of celebrities at the restaurant splattered across it) to consume some much-needed provender. After seafood favourites such as fish and crab were quickly wiped off, we finally headed out to Goa, and I was giddy as a schoolgirl the whole way there. As soon as we entered its hallowed streets (okay, I’m going to stop now) we pointed the Santa Fe in the direction of the iconic Fort Aguada. One thing you immediately notice when you enter Goa is just the sheer variety of people there. It isn’t uncommon to find a group of youngsters from Russia trying to get directions from a local in a cacophony of thick accents. This in essence is the flavour of Goa – tourists from around the world exploring everything the land has to offer, and friendly locals doing everything they can to accommodate them.
