Fish & Christians

We arrived in Margao, south Goa around 8pm. The Mandovi Express, train number 0103, from Mumbai, a little over an hour late (by India standards, more than reasonable) and half a day later than planned. We were lucky to be arriving at all due to the time of year but fortune or the nice ticket man had taken pity when our waitlist tickets for the night train 12 hours earlier remained wait list tickets. We had moved from 7 & 8 to 4 & 5 which although progress, was not enough for a place on our train. The very helpful taxi/tout who had accosted us in the ticket hall couldn’t believe his eyes when I returned from the ticket booth with two tickets on the morning train. He had just spent five minutes assuring us there would be no tickets for trains to Goa for at least a week due to the holiday season. One of the things I love about India is that anything is possible.

Agonda Beach is certainly idyllic. I’ve spent many years wondering when I would finally make it to Goa and here I am. I suppose it is pretty much as I expected as I haven’t been surprised by anything. I had done a fair bit of research and so knew that this place would be beautiful and quiet – less touristy than so many of the popular beaches. It is a Catholic village - I had wanted to spend Christmas here just for the novelty of Christmas in India in a place that was actually celebrating Christmas. There is a majestic white church at the heart of the village where the road in and out of Agonda meets the one road that runs parallel to the coast. The beach is long and curved with restaurants and beach huts dotted along. The sand is fine and pale and the ocean relatively calm, small to medium waves lapping at the shore, although I think there can be a strong undertow. There are lifeguards at intervals, which is somewhat reassuring.

Walking along the beach at sunset at the end of our first day, there was a crowd and hubbub ahead in the twilight. Two rows of 10-12 men were pulling in a huge net that was attached to a boat just off the shore. They would run down to the front in pairs with a big stick which they would attach to the rope as leverage to pull in the net. As they pulled the rope (which was clearly attached to this huge net), the semi-circle would draw in a little and the boat came closer to the beach. There was much shouting and commotion and a crowd of onlookers, local and holidaymaker alike stood around trying not to get in the way as the circle closed. The excitement intensified as the net drew in and we waited with baited breath to see the fruits of this labour. Once the net was on the beach then it was shaken along from each side until there was a big pile of fish in the middle. Mainly sardines but some crab, apparently mackerel and a few other pieces. The whole spectacle was rather impressive partly from the sheer enthusiastic teamwork, partly from the simplicity of the whole process and probably partly because it was just fun to watch. What is that phrase… it takes a village...to raise a child...or in this case, to catch a bounty of fish.