Wednesday 7th December Kunkeshwar – Malvan 33.8miles (with a 3mile detour down to Agchar)

​Got going in the predawn gloom with stars still spotting the sky and the road invisible.  Watching the world come into focus was as magical as watching a photo develop in the dark room.  It all happens quite quickly and rose tinted.
 
(I’m still having VERY weird dreams – but I won’t bore you all with the details). Meanwhile – back on the trail and I’m following the reassuring TOD signs again.  A Hindu Mendir is blasting out music all over the countryside – one can hear it for miles around (helped by the loudspeakers attached to telegraph poles in fields) and I’m enjoying it!  I made a 3mile detour down to Agchar beach for breakfast before returning to the TOD signs that inform me that I only have 95km left to Goa.  (Double that to get to the South, where I’m headed to meet up with Trevor). 
 
I decide to quit for the day at Malvan – and it takes quite a bit of searching before I find a cheapish room with wifi – but it’s a fairly big place and persistence pays off.  I spend the next hour letting folks at home know I’m Ok as I haven’t posted online in a while. 
 
I wanted to go snorkelling – thinking I could just hire the kit and go on my own until the daylight fizzled out.  But they do day trips and the guys organising the snorkelling and diving were just winding up for the day when I arrived  So I got 5mins for my trouble – swimming in murky water.  I’d also made a classic mistake.  The hotel I’d booked into was in the back streets and I’d failed to take note of either the name or major landmarks.  The guy who’d showed me to the sea front disappeared and I could NOT find my way back (I was close, but not quite).   Just as I was beginning to feel desperate (and pretty silly) I spot one of the lads who lives there – out on his scooter.  I wave him over and he shows me the way home.  (Never make  that mistake again!). 
 
I met up with Darren and another backpacker, Matthieu – a French Canadian who was staying at the same place as Darren – and we went out for supper together (and a beer) in a beach bar.  The French Canadian accent is very odd – c’est vrais! 
 
I dream weird dreams in the heat, again.   This time I think I murdered someone, but I don’t remember the actual deed – just the aftermath.  Hmmm.