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Location of Bogmalo Beach Resort in Goa is easily accessible and highly reachable by any tourist or a group of tourists. Apart from the fact that this hotel remains as Goa\’s one of the most reputed resort, its location also makes it a sure hit among the tourists.
There are several modes of public transport that can take the guests to the location of Bogmalo Beach Resort of Goa. This fabulous resort lies at a distance of only 4 kilometers from the city\’s International Airport and quite understandably will take a matter of a few minutes in a car to reach the resort.
The railway station and the bus stand both lie only at a distance of 9 kilometers away from the resort. The location of Bogmalo Beach Resort in Goa almost equates a fairy tale that simply oozes out a bit of romanticism and mysticism. Situated on the secluded white sand beach of Goa is close to the usual hustle-bustle of human life but at the same time manages to maintain its sanctity and mystique.
The first impression when looking at the beach and the facilities are large quantities of coconut palms. Thanks rife monsoonal precipitation in the period due to the existence of many rivers and creeks Goa is otherwise rampant vegetation: Unlike some other states in India, where forest vegetation has been largely cut off, is about one third of the territory in Goe jungly original forest vegetation. In addition to the different-leaved trees and rare plants (such as. Teak tree) are represented here with cashew trees, with mango, pineapple and further below.
In addition to ubiquitous cows, nature exhibits considerable population of foxes and wild pigs, on the coast and inland to live a large number of birds, whether domestic or migratory. Goa is also known for large numbers of snakes, but on the other hand, contribute to
reducing the number of very advanced rodents. More:- Goa beach resorts
If you want good value,fresh food with a friendly service look no further than
the Shining Star.. All the staff are friendly and helpful…ask for Reddy, he will always get what you need.
The barbeque on Monday night is great value and the whole menu is varied and worth considering..
Was pretty inspired by the Mandrem pictures and beach snaps. So this post.
I saw a post on Mandrem and the exhilirating pictures of the Beach scenes in Mandrem alongside. Didnt know about the Mandrem heritage being so rich.
I hail from Morjim. My experiences are like some fairy tale stories. One of them is the daily evening walks from Morjm to Mandrem. This I guess is the Shortest distance between Morjim to Mandrem. The best part being walking along the beach. So the walk/wading experience from Morjm to Mandrem collecting shell fish is beyond any good looking verbal posting like this. The sands then, were Shinning white silver in colour. The waters were transparent . I remember we all cousins collected the shells and take it in a bag filled with the salt water to keep it fresh. Then on reaching home made soup from these cute small shell fish ( small khubeys ) we would call them.
Dont know what has happened to colour of the white silver sands. MAYBE THE FREQUENT DUMPINGS BY THE FOREIGN OIL DUMPING SHIPS THAT CAN BE SEEN IN THE DISTANCE have discoloured them. Now the sands look grey and black at some places.
On my recent visit go Goa - I had gone to Thalassa Greek Taverna in Vagator. The food was out of this world, Mariketty welcomes every single patron as if they were family. From the very moment we walked in, to the second we left - the service, food and ambiance was perfect.
We were well looked after and enjoyed great drinks and possibly the best greek food i\’ve had in years. I\’m from NYC and frequently visit Greek restaurants in Astoria, Queens…I feel as though I have a decent frame of reference.
The crowd was equally as impressive. Thalassa attracts a good looking crowd that likes to lounge and have a good time…
For this experience, I would expect to pay an arm and a leg. Just the opposite - Thalassa is very reasonably priced authentic, delicious greek food!
Great overall experience - I highly suggest going there if you are in town!
Everything is politically correct in Canada. Being next door to the USA, Toronto gets its political correctness from our neighbor much before the rest of Canada does. That means we get their metaphorical garbage sooner as well.
The latest word for death, slowly gaining popularity in Toronto is “transition”. Although I am not a great fan of political correctness unless rooted in good reason, I think the word transition makes sense if you believe in an after-life. On the other hand the word Afro-American or Afro-Canadian is irrelevant to my mind. An American or Canadian black would have difficulty pointing to Africa on a world map. Therefore me, I cling to Black and none of my black friends protest it.
But back to the great Goan transition in Canada.
Seniors in Toronto are a privileged lot. They get all sorts of substantial discounts, they have an excellent lobby group called the CARP (Canadian Association of Retired Persons) that has considerable political clout in Ottawa. The Canadian population after all is aging fast and the average age of a working Canadian is 49. Compare that to the Indian age at 19. Even considering the fact that an Indian is considered over the hill at 50 while his Canadian counterpart is considered young at 65, this is a big age gap.
Torontonians are considered seniors at 65 though the privilege is being extended to younger and younger people all the time. For example here in Scarborough there is a Goan club called the TEGSA (Toronto East Goan Seniors Association) which admits people over 55. Things like that. This club by the way, is so well managed and has so many different types of functions, one could very well say they do better than the ten times larger GOA (Goan Overseas Association).
It is not uncommon to see men and women at even 85 driving large cars. Even after 80, no meaningful eye tests are done and as long as the family physician does not put an adverse remark in the provincial records about the person not being fit to drive, there is no obstacle to the senior driving. I am terrified of seniors on the roads and give them a wide berth ever since I sat in a relative’s car and discovered he had no peripheral vision. In other words he would almost bump into persons crossing the road as he could only watch the road straight ahead. No too long ago there was an incident in Mississauga where a senior bumped into a jogging lady and dragged her under the car of about 300 metres all the way to the driveway of the home without
realizing what had happened. Saiba Bogos, even though I know I may bea senior one day myself (if I don’t make the Great Transition before that) !
Mostly, Goan seniors are financially well heeled. The mortgage is paid off (that means an asset of $400K or more on average), they have savings, a company pension perhaps and goodly life-long payments from the government by way of Old Age Security and the Canada Pension Plan. They are entitled to free prescription drugs at 65 and of course free health care of a high level is available to the entire population. Seniors go all the time on Casino trips, vacations to Goa, China, Cuba and the Caribbean. Not to mention “pilgrimages” to some Marian devotional centres in the US that will not be complete without a side swipe to Atlantic City or Las Vegas. So come the time of the Great Transition, can one blame the senior who exhibits much reluctance to make it?
Dying (to use the common term) in Toronto is a class act. Or more to the point what happens after dying. The Canadian ritual of a funeral is something I have never witnessed either in India or in the Mid-East where I lived for some time. There the body is disposed of as if the ceremony needs to be completed as soon as possible. People cry even if they are not disposed to, and god forbid as in the times I remember, the habit of hiring professional mourners. That I must admit was only in Goa where the funeral used to be mainly comprised of crying, walking the coffin in the heat of the day to the church and then imbibing large amounts of feni as if to anesthetize oneself to all memories of the dear departed. No doubt the soul of the transitioned would have approved of the feni drinking if not of the entire ceremony, crying and all. The fact that even his worst enemies cried when they should have been laughing, added some spice to the whole affair.
But back to dying in Toronto.
The funeral parlor plays the central role and no matter how ill prepared the relatives of the transitioned were, the folks at the parlor arrange everything as if they were prepared one year in advance. They arrange for the body to be brought to the parlor and they prepare it in awesome style. I have seen seniors whom I would not care to meet in dark alleys being transformed to look like St Peter’s angelic assistants. That’s how good the morticians are. Of course like almost every occupation in Canada they have to be licensed. Once, being bored of the visitation taking place above, I moved to the lower level where I met the guy doing the job and we hit it out with each other. He was a young Colombian who filled me in with his colorful experiences that tickled me pink.
First is the visitation. Usually held on two evenings, from 7 to 9 pm, it gives the mourners a chance to pray for and wish goodbye to the dear departed if one cannot make it to the funeral. The parlor itself consists of 4 or 5 visitation rooms that on a busy day are all filled with caskets and people. It is there in that room that you will see the Toronto Goan mourner in full form. There is only a minimum pretense of sorrow and seriousness. Five minutes after entering and viewing the easels filled with photographs of the person at his various milestones, they will retire to the back of the room and chat and laugh like it was C. D’Souza’s outside Sonapur church in Goan Dhobitalao. There will be a pat on the back of Joaozinho who had come all the way from California to respect his late friend, with bonhomie and vigor, taking the ensuing conversation to paths that have nothing to do with the visitation.
On the closely following Saturday is the funeral mass at some lovely church where the coffin is laid out on the main aisle and the children and grandchildren say a few words either during and after mass. This is the inspiring part of the whole dying process and makes one proud of one’s Goan children not matter how un-Goan they have become.
The mass is followed by the car trip to a nearby cemetery where each car is given a visible card to put out on the front, identifying it as a funeral procession car. It is a lovely sight with two Toronto policemen on motorcycles in full uniform regalia leading the cortege and two police cars behind. They will stop traffic even on green and lead the cars in state. Ever so often they will reposition themselves with the cars in front and the bikers behind.
Toronto cemeteries are the best I have ever seen. All well maintained, there are sections that have their own significance. Plots for priests, plots for war vets, plots for those who have given generously to start the cemetery. However unlike Goa where I have seen plots demarcated for first class and second class, Toronto cemeteries are first class for all. The plots are quite expensive ranging from $6K
(if you pay while living) to $20K or more depending on which view or size the family wants, but all uniform in beauty. A very far cry indeed from the Catholic cemetery in Jogesheshwari where my mother had to be buried a few years ago as her seniors home was in that parish.
After the short burial ritual is over, with tears gently wiped from eyes, the people return to the Church Hall. Before I go further, I must note with appreciation the fact that the coffin is lowered in respect only after all the people leave the ground. That saves the nearest family from seeing the final lowering of the casket which would be undoubtedly traumatic with it’s significance of finality.
This last part is friendly and fun. The family is now centered on the celebration of life rather than the ritual of death. Mourning will come soon enough, but now is the time to recall the best memories of the one who has transitioned. Funny speeches are made, toasts are raised and laughter is brought to the fore. The tables groan under
delicious goan snacks. My favorite green chutney sandwiches, beef croquettes, shrimp patties as only Goans can make them and several more.
The whole thing will have cost the family at least $15K and oftentimes much more. The govt will pitch in with $2500 if the person had worked for however little a time and was entitled to the CPP. Most seem to be able to afford these amounts. Most of them while living would have made provision for the insurance that would have paid for it.
Another Toronto Goan departed, another Toronto Goan born. Life goes on for the living and losses become fond memories with time.
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There are three types of weddings that Goans usually favor. One, is the classic wedding. It has all the trimmings, bells and whistles that make it a memorable day for the couple organizing it. They start preparing for it at least one and a half year in advance, taking as much time to find the banquet hall for the big day as one would take to find a new home. Off to the annual bridal show they go, to seek the latest ideas and perhaps get a prize or two in the form of discounts on the services offered. About 250 to 300 close friends and relatives are invited. Everything is done in style and I have seen brides break down at even one small arrangement going wrong.
The mass is a grand affair with the wedding singer taking the hymns and solos to great heights. The reception is equally memorable with toasts raised by the head table consisting of best friends and favored young relatives. They make the audience roar with all the private weaknesses of the couple and it is taken with humor. All this is during or after a sumptuous sit-down meal. Buffet style is a no-no at these weddings. The dessert spread is equally impressive. Laid out on two or three massive oak or maple tables, it consists of every choice sweet, cake, eclair tart and pudding you could want. To give it a Goan touch, the parents sometimes add the choicest Goan selections of bibinca, doce-baji, letri and coconut macaroons among others. The band then strikes up and its time for what the Goans do best - dance. At
the end of it all, the couple will have spent about $200 or more per guest invited.
The other type of wedding is the more informal and fun affair. The couple decide on a wedding package in a hotel in some popular beach resort where all the arrangements are made by the hotel concerned. Cuba, Costa Rica or the Dominican Republic are favorite destinations. Since one must take leave from work and pay for the return flights and hotel stay, not to mention the cash present to the wedding couple, only a few close friends and relatives agree to go and that is what the couple really want. The intimacy of friend and family makes their wedding more meaningful and remembered. The guests in turn get a holiday for themselves and a chance to add joy to the newly weds in a more meaningful manner. Sometimes if the wedding is planned for Goa, more people will come for obvious reasons.
The third choice is a low budget affair where the young couple call only their near family and go off to one of the many small towns in Ontario where the wedding takes place Canadian style, with the least expense and also the least fuss. The low key mass is held in the town church where the small population come wide eyed, remembering their own days and the reception is in the community hall where sometimes the local police and the fire department will drop in for a couple of
beers. In return they will take the couple through the town, lights flashing and horns blaring singing Irish or Scottish wedding songs that bring out the people from the homes to wave and cheer at the retinue. Money is saved that could be more usefully plowed into a home and car and the various other major expenses that loom on the horizon.
It is customary for people to RSVP to wedding invitations before the due date which is about a month ahead of the occasion. The couple will register with one of the larger department stores and make a list of the items they require for their new home. That way they will get presents of their choice of a wide range and without any duplication. The more expensive items are meant for the wedding and those of lesser value (between $50 and $100) can be given for the bridal shower. The male part of the couple of course is happier with a lady popping out of a large cake with nothing on except a nice hat at a stag party where beer flows like water. But then males have always been low maintenance. Presents for the wedding usually fall between the $150 to 200 mark per person in cash or registered present. That helps to defray some of the couple’s manifold costs.
The young Goan population in Toronto is unevenly balanced. There are more girls than boys and therefore the females become predators although clothed in the nicest sweetest lamb-like clothing and the sweetest demeanor. The boys will be macho. They will work out, have 6 feet tall muscular lean bodies, seemingly razor sharp minds and the girls although cleverer will pretty much act like dumb blondes and let
them get their way during courtship. The routine always works. However loud the boys, however quickly they chug seven to eight shots of the most throat-searing ouzo or vodka, then comes the wedding and everything turns topsy-turvy. That small, gentle, sweet 5 feet nothing of Goan seduction will turn that lion into a mouse.
Here is a typical conversation overheard from a young wedded couple.
He: My parents would like to come to Toronto this summer.
She: But we are going to France in June.
He: France? You never told me of that plan before. In any case they cannot come in the Canadian winter you know.
She: I know. So you can tell them to come next year.
He: It makes more sense for us to go to France in the winter.
She: Shush shush dear lets not go on about this.
End of all dialogue.
Mum and Dad can come only next year. Subject of course to all her other future plans.
OK ladies, its not all that bad. Boys, it could be worse. Home Depot sells dog houses they call “tool sheds” and in sweet revenge, she’ll make you pay for it. Who says it’s the economy you had to worry about after your wedding day?
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