Off we go…
17th – 18th November 2025
Our flight to Goa, via Delhi, was to depart at 22.00, so we had a full day to finish off odds and ends before heading off. We had been fastidious in getting the paperwork in order – the Indian e-Visa was in particular a complicated and anxious task. Having paid for the whole holiday, we really didn’t want our visas to be denied!
Leaving generously early, we set off to Heathrow Airport on the Elizabeth Line. Geting to the Tottenham Court Road platform in the middle of rush-hour, we were impressed by the frequency and capacity of the Elizabeth Line trains. Despite the crammed carriages, kind passengers noted Lynne’s arm in a sling and first gave up a seat for her, followed by one for Peter.
Check-in went smoothly, but the journey to the gate was epic – a long, long walk along busy corridors, down and up towering escalators. We were grateful that we had left in generous time.
We were also very thankful that we had found the good value business class seats – Lynne’s arm was starting to hurt, and needed the space to rest.
Flying through the night, we bedded down after a splendid curry meal, achieving a semblance of sleep that would not have been possible in an upright seat. We landed at 13.00 in a smoggy Delhi. Anxious of the ‘Bio-kiosks‘ before passport controls, we were relieved that we must have registered our fingerprints and ID pictures last time we arrived, in 2023. So, passing through went really smoothly.
Pleased with the rapid progress we had made, we headed for the baggage carousels to pick up our two bags, having to later check them in for our onward flight to Goa. This was the first stress moment.
It is unbelievable how many bags came out of that ‘plane! One of our bags arrived safely after several hundred others, but the other never appeared. Finally, with no more bags emerging, Lynne took a tour round the massive carousel and found it unloaded on the far side from where we were. Relief.
Time was getting short now, our next departure was at 16.00, and we still had to get through Customs, check in our bags, buy Indian currency and then go through security. Checking in the bags was easy, but getting Indian currency was more difficult. Security? Oh dear, we still had a bottle of suncream that we had bought at Heathrow in Peter’s carry-on backpack.
Some fast thinking (by Lynne, of course) resulted in us redistributing the contents in both our backpacks and checking in Lynne’s, containing the rogue suncream. This had the added benefit of relieving Peter of carrying both backpacks.
Another massive terminal, a bit like emerging in a series of different caverns in a computer game, took us to our gate, where we only had time for a hastily gulped coffee and indifferent cake before boarding the plane.
After a smooth journey, with a mouthwatering Indian dinner, landing in the dark gloom of dusk, we breezed through, picking up our two bags and Lynne’s backpack. All good, but there wasn’t a driver to pick us up…
After some anxious moments and some exploratory forays, we decided to phone our emergency number for help. Exquisitely timed, our driver then appeared, to our huge relief.
The nearly two hour journey was not for the fainthearted. For most of the journey, the traffic was incredibly busy and completely chaotic with our driver accelerating and hooting all along. Sometimes we were on wide new dual carriageways, other times negotiating roadworks, sleeping policemen and tight blind corners. The road signs caused us trepidation with adages like “Alert today, Alive tomorrow” or “Injury brings tears, safety cheers”!
We were finally delivered at the taxi drop-off point, deep in a tropical forest. Two men were waiting for us in the darkness to carry our bags along the sandy path leading to the Bamboo Yoga Retreat.
Dumping our bags on the porch of our hut, we were led to a table to be served an amazing dinner. Amazing both because they had stopped serving well before, and also that they cooked everything fresh especially without garlic, for Lynne!
Exhausted, we retired to our hut, unpacked only the most necessary and fell into our mosquito-net covered bed, to drift into sleep to the sound of the waves on the beach, happy in the knowledge that we wouldn’t experience the swell of the sea this trip.
