When we left Goa, we set out towards the lonely beaches of southern Maharashtra, which we expected to be even more beautiful than the ones in Goa. So we set out to find one of those untouched little shores.
Because the distance we had to drive was not that long we decided to visit a Nav Tara, the restaurant Nils, the third member of our Tuk Tuk triple team, recommended to us, again. While we ate one of those superb Special Thalis and a Masala Dosa, two guys entered the restaurant and we could not believe our eyes…
“Is that Nils?!”
I asked Flo and indeed… it was him. Lucky coincidences (or stroke of fate as Sadri, a guy we met in Sri Lanka, would say?) like this are the one thing that makes our journey seem so wonderful and surreal at times that we can not stop smiling about the fact that those things actually happen. After a short conversation and another Dosa, we decided to get a scooter for Nils and then set off towards the lonely shores of Maharashtra together. The tuk-tuk triple was back again – even though only for a very short day trip to Vengurla Beach.
This time we said “Goodbye” for good in Vengurla after we swam a little in the blueish refreshing waters. Nils went back to Goa and we continued our journey through Maharashtra.
Kalwa’s lonely beach
Because of this coincidence, we were quite late to reach Tarkarli Beach (our planned destination). It was already turning dark and we still had some miles left. So we decided to stop at the very next beach and try our luck in finding a place for our hammocks there. What a decision! We stopped at a little fishers village called Kalwa and found a lonely beach with enough big trees close by. There was no hotel and not a single tourist around. It was totally empty and therefore rather beautiful.
After the crowded cities in Goa, an empty beach was a real blessing and the thing we needed. We even found a couple of really secluded coconut trees that protected us from wind and view (we double-checked, that the coconuts would not hit us in case one would fall down) and so we were more than happy to set up our camp there. Bathing in the orange-red sea and eating toast and semi-warm fried rice for dinner and getting to bed super early, felt finally like a real camping experience.
The next morning I was awake very early, the constant noise of the waves, the wind, and the piercing cold woke me up several times in the night already. So when it got bright outside, I was already prepared to leave our little camp to capture some morning light atmosphere. Everything was covered in a thick morning fog and the fisher boats on the shore and their little huts looked haunted. I loved this eery atmosphere.
Little bits of sunlight were shining through the mist and the fishermen came back from a long night of work… They were pushing their boats onto the otherwise lonely beach, tired and happy. They were astonished to see a white person with tripod and camera running around, smiling across the whole face and taking pictures. It was just one of those magic moments. Sitting on some rocks, photographing waves, watching the sun rise.
Being awake this early and experiencing this morning filled me with pure joy. After some time I returned to our little camp and woke up Flo so that we could go on with our rickshaw journey towards the next lonely beach, through little villages and morning mist.