We were not sad about getting off of our last overnight bus in India when we arrived in Goa around six in the morning. Not. sad. at. all. Aside from the three episodes of Game of Thrones I coerced Andrew into letting us watch on the bus, it was a pretty uncomfortable ride and we were exhausted by the time we were able to check into our guesthouse later in the morning. We fell asleep watching The BBC. I was in and out of consciousness listening to updates on the poor girl trying to recover from being gang raped in New Delhi, and statistics on rape in India interspersed with Incredible !ndia tourism commercials. It got in my head.
Incredible !ndia or… Incredible India?
This is what it felt like:
We woke up around dusk and forced ourselves out to the beach (I know, life was so hard!) for dinner. Christmas Eve in Goa is one of the more random holidays I’ve celebrated- we’ve celebrated. Both of us really missed home over these holidays. Being abroad in your own apartment surrounded by friends was comforting in South Korea. Being abroad in a random hotel surrounded by Russian tourists and Indian dude-bros is not as comforting. But we were healthy, happy, and more importantly (ha) we were warm!
