You know what they say about butterflies in the stomach… well, the ones in ours seemed to have gone into overdrive as we hovered 25,000 feet up in the air at the fag end of our 90-minute “working holiday” flight approaching Goa from Mumbai. In fact, our first-ever trip to this “pearl city of the Orient” had the adrenaline pumping from the time we took off, boredom never an issue as we craned our necks to catch the mountain view unfolding outside the windows.

Touchdown and Goa International Airport soon enough behind us, the butterflies gave way to fantasising about what city life had to offer in this completely different paradise blessed with an abundance of lush greenery and a sun that splashes its radiance with an enviably biased abundance for this part of the country.

Expectations of a “city spree” came to nought, though, as we were told our destination was actually a small village, Majorda, our anxious director attempting to soften the blow by enlightening us about the “well planned” accommodation at a resort 26 km from the airport. Along the way we were greeted by quaint and artistic cottages surrounded by their decorative hibiscus gardens.

As someone said, everything comes with a price and it wasn’t to be all pleasure for us in Goa because there was a seminar to attend – mundane, was the first thought that sprang to mind, but we actually ended up enjoying the exchange. Taxing seminar done, we zealously surrendered to the marine blue and despite the jellyfish swimming around and the continuous whistle-blowing of a Coast Guard vessel, we were loathe to leave the water. We had reason to miss the sea when we were back at the resort – rated five-star — because the washrooms had malfunctioning showers and, annoyance aside, we had to make do with buckets to complete our bathing adventure.

To be fair, we’d been looking forward to fun, food and loud music in this much-advertised fantasy land but reality determined otherwise. Our mood lifted somewhat when we informed about a beach party but the finery in our suitcases stayed locked in because it didn’t happen. The resort had strict prohibitions on outside food and beverages and trying to convince the security staff to allow in something to induce a party mood proved monumentally impossible. An incessant shower seemed to be hand in glove with someone somewhere attempting to croon evergreen classics and reducing the exercise to mere cacophony. The evening brought some respite, though, because of a musical soiree that had been organised, and the strumming of acoustic guitars to the accompaniment of a balmy breeze from the sea had us “feeling” Goa at last.

Of course, it would be downright rude to visit Goa and not enjoy the delicacies it has to offer. And we did the occasion full justice. Goan food stupefied us with its exotic flavours. Majorda offered us Konkani fish peri-peri, prawns and fried sardines along with hot, clear soup, mutton xacuti paired with luscious desserts.

Our last day at Majorda arrived with mixed feelings. There was a sense of regret tinged with the excitement of finally going around the rest of Goa, which is what we’d been waiting for. Bidding adieu to the Majorda Beach Resort – not all our experiences were unpleasant – we “did” a whirlwind tour and being a tight-knit group sort of heightened the excitement, the Basilica of Bom Jesus serving to spark a sort of spiritual awakening in us.

The time spent together had us literally gasping for breath. We also realised that the trip would not have been memorable shorn of its flaws — be it the tireless mosquitoes, the never-heard-of orange biryani, our exhausting train journey back to Mumbai and the hectic overnight

stay at the airport there. Such are experiences that will have us looking back in longing for years to come. Definite pit stops down memory lane.

Inputs from neelabh raj, sabyasachi sengupta, trisha bhattacharya, shraman banerjee, shreyosi chakaraborty, krishnasish dasgupta, sounita sarma choudhury, shuvam choudhuri, somali mukherjee and barnali mitra.