It takes a while to realize why the beach seems so familiar to me.
Of course – Jason Bourne Supremacy. The famous scene early in the morning when Matt Damon aka Jason Bourne is running along the beach (see Bourne Supremacy - Running Scene), only minutes before he discovers the Russian killer and it's over with calm once and for all.
And his girlfriend is dead ...
Matt Damon runs
Actually, it would be a good idea to do the same as Matt Damon and jog along the beach. My system is still in the stage of reconstruction so it lets me know: no way! Today vacation, no stress, no performance, so no sport! At least not for today. What's tomorrow, we'll see.
Sadly rusting away
After breakfast at the Ocean Blue, my favorite shack, I convince myself to take a walk along the beach. And I discover, surprised and a bit sad, that far out in the sea, the rusting barge looks even worse than at my first visit to Goa three years ago.
Imagine: not far from the holiday paradise of Goa, more precisely at the beach of Calangute, there's a stranded ship, apparently a cargo ship, and it's rusting towards its downfall. No one bothers to tow it to the shore and scrape it up.
Nothing and nobody, not even an old cargo ship, has earned such a lousy end.
I'm sure that the next time I'm here, the ship will still be there, maybe lying on its side, maybe with a few more holes in the rusty walls. A sad fate for the once proud ship that has traveled around the world many times and has served its service impeccably.
Dangerous underwater currents
The sun loungers are occupied, the sun worshipers are being roasted, but only a few venture into the warm water. There is a reason for that. There are many nasty currents here, which, if their claws have you in its grasp, never let go. And so every year there are deaths, when stupid tourists or ignorant local bathers venture out into the sea and are not able to make it back to the shore.
Well, there is no danger for me; I, as a hydrophobic mountaineer, don't have the slightest desire to venture into the water.
Two Worlds
The differences between the two worlds meeting at this short stretch by the sea could not be bigger. Here the bored white-skinned, red-burned tourists on their rented loungers, there the locals, working on their fishing nets, selling trinkets, their hungry eyes on the world they will never belong to.
Time passes calmly, almost unnoticed. Always the same questions on the beach (“100 rupees, cashew nuts, no business, please”). It's always exciting to see the dynamism that results from it. If there is one at all. Most of the time the communication is exhausted in "Hello Mister, very cheap!" And the corresponding answer "How much?"
Deadend Street
But the slow walk along the endless shore leaves room for thought. And while walking in the damp sand, my iPod is running. Deadend Street by the Kinks.
There's a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A sunday joint of bread and honey.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in,
The rent collectors knocking, trying to get in ...
A moment of happiness.
But also the sudden realization that the other world also exists in our home countries. You don't have to go to India to detect poverty.
P.S. Matching Song: Kinks - Deadend Street
And here to follow the trip ...
