Visiting candolim beach often presents one with the same sights and sounds. And goa is land of beaches. It made me think about visiting somewhere new. Where the sights are different, the views are different. A thorough research of the goan map revealed querim. The northern tip of goa, situated at the border of Maharashtra. Existence of a fort was also evident there by the name Tiracol motivated me further. The fort had to be reached by means of a ferry across the river of the same name. But the best part of this journey was that I was undertaking it on a beast. Yes, royal Enfield 350 cc 1994 model.
The previous ride to Sultanpur Bird sanctuary on the bullets had enthralled me and I imagined riding the beast myself soon. This was the best time. Goan roads are nice well kept; literally no traffic and I don’t even have to buy a bullet. Just hire it. With some enquires my driver Umesh was able to arrange for a bullet for me and he would come and drop it at candolim. A quick learning about the mechanism for starting (which is quite different from my 100 cc platina) I started my ride towards querim.
Finding petrol pumps in goa is like searching for fishes in the desert. Because there is no petrol pump virtually anywhere except bigger places like panjim, margaon or mapusa. The only alternative was to buy bottled petrol from the many houses on the way; 5 rs being more than the usual rate but the only option (that too with compromised quality). So filling up the tank enough for a comeback I rode further. Soon I reached the countryside of goa. Fresh sir, verdure everywhere, no traffic and the sound of bullet filling the air was truly bliss. And surely would have been any bikers dream. The roads are in an excellent condition even after the amount of rainfall the area gets. This should inspire places like Pune and Mumbai were roads literally get replaced by pot holes during the monsoons. There were small hamlets every now and then attached to which are farms, and they form the livelihood for the habitants.
Our driver had once pointed out that even though when there were more Hindus in goa than Christians there were more churches than temples, the very influence of Portuguese. This was more evident by Siolim church aka St. Anthony’s church built in 1568 and totally neo-gothic style. (It is popular shoot for movies). Stopped by, a quick bow and I moved on further. I crossed the Siolim Bridge across the river Chapora, a beautiful and more importantly a purposeful structure, which replaced the ferry route from siolim to chopdem in 2002. Though it took away the charm of the ferry crossing, but for many saved on precious time. The best part of my ride however was just about to begin.
On crossing the bridge I reached outskirts of chopdem village and almost sooner the Ghats started. Riding a bullet on the ghat stretch is the best deal on can ask for. When 3500cc of engine power generates torque, ascent feels so easy on the third gear. A board indicated the route to morjim but I decide to go straight. When I gained altitude I immediately felt a difference in the temperature and a cool breeze flowing from west. When I turned my head towards the source I could see the vast Arabian Sea parallel to me into its full extent, only being fringed by palms. A few more kilometers, I was now parallel to a serene beach called as Mandrem. Deciding to stop while coming back I rode further. Crossing Ashvem, arambol in succession I reached Querim which I could tell because there was no road ahead but only a water body, Tiracol River. When I enquired, there was some more time for the ferry to come, which would take me and my machine across the river. So with some time in my hand, I gave my camera a quick warm-up with some shots, and I warmed up with a cold beer at Vailankanni bar and restaurant, the only one there. There were some Russian tourists also present there on their bike probably covering the same destination. Soon buses, cars, bikes, people all line up on a ramp to get into the ferry.
Slowly the ferry positioned itself closer to the ramp and everyone climbed onto it, with cars lined on one side and bikes on the other. Soon the engines roared back to life and after a moment of rotational torque we were sailing ahead. Nearby I could see some fisherman involved in their chores. Beyond them were the great Western Ghats lush green and kind of gating the river. Soon I was at the shores of Tiracol village the last village of goa before Maharashtra starts. The road almost instantly snakes up and enters the village. Boards indicating heritage properties dot along the road, making it clear that Tiracol is a big heritage treasure house itself. Soon I saw myself at the gates of brightly painted ochre colored palace, with a name on the gates, Tiracol Fort and heritage hotel
Now managed by nilaya foundation, this fort has been converted into a heritage hotel. Though it looks very compact from outside it house many suites as well as a chapel. The unique part of the fort other than the ochre color is the rooms are named according the name of the days, Sunday, Saturday, etc. The suites are lined on the western part of the fort, whereas in the center stands a statue of Jesus with open arms facing the chapel. Said to have been built in around 1546 the chapel of St. Antonio is open only on selected days and belongs to the Portuguese. As one circles the chapel, stairs lead you to the first level. This gives awesome views of both Arabian Sea as well as Tiracol River. A cool and strong gush of wind hits you as soon as you reach the edge of the fort and face the sea, a take her to the sea moment. A small longue serving continental dishes adorn the other side of the fort and on can relish a good meal at the same. Satisfying myself with the sea views I clambered down and met the office people who enlightened me further about the facilities and kinds of suites available.
On getting out one can immediately spot a large banyan tree with a small commemoration stone beside. The stone remembered the great freedom fighters of goa that bravely fought the Portuguese and for atleast one day were able to take control of the fort. The return journey was just the same, with some part of me not wanting to return back. The ferry was loyally waiting for us the Tiracol side and within minutes I was transported from 1546 to 2009, though important part of my journey was still remaining. Coming to goa and not visiting a beach is like a sin. So I darted first to querim beach, absolutely empty and serene beach. With only few shacks and eateries along the shore, it lacks the crowded nature of goan beaches. Next to the ferry port where the river met the sea is a fishing point, and anyone interested can indulge. Some quick shutters I moved on to Mandrem beach which I had already fell in love with.
I parked the machine on the road next to a coconut water vendor and thanking him by drinking some coconut water. A beautiful landscaped garden welcomed me, and the beach had totally different persona. First a landscaped garden takes you downhill and then you have to cross a wooden bridge in order to reach the sands. Only few people around and mostly foreigners, exemplified that this beach is either undiscovered and is for the people who prefer to stay in peace. A walked quickly along the shores and made a mental not of the shack. Photographing was not really possible as most of the foreigners were enjoying the sun completely without adequate or in fact any cover. So without any offence and quick walk I just clicked some landscapes and left back to my bike to conclude my trip.
