For StyleSpeak – GOA TODAY By Wendell Rodricks A Walk in Clouds Last Sunday, I get on SMS from Clinton Vaz (to listen to his favorite play list on Indigo FM). It was 9 am. I dialled back and got a whispering Clinton at the other end. "I can't talk now. Trekking in a forest." A butcher's knife, sharp with jealousy, hacked my heart.
While most people are nursing a hangover, courtesy Bina Ramani's rendition of "Summertime" at Cavala or a stiff neck from head-bouncing at Tito's, here is Clinton Vaz on a trek in Goa's pristine monsoonscape. No wonder I nominated him as Goan Icon of the Year. I wish he had won. Not many people in his age group (under 25) do as much environmental good as he does. I should not be envious of Clinton and his trek. Here I am, recently returned from a series of (small) treks in Alaska and Canada. On glaciers, where the chill factor is below zero, On salmon and grizzly trails where a bear stepped on our track since her two cubs were up a conifer playing 'Catch'. On a prehistoric mountain in Gattineau Park, Quebec accompanied by a tiny huffing dog called Samuel. If you have not been on a trek, do go on one….. in Goa. Dial Clinton at +918980936828 and prepare for a bit of paradise. The trekking bug bit me nice and hard 24 years ago. My partner's family took me on their annual week long trek in the French Alps near Chamonix. Despite the fact that I almost fell off the mountain due to low oxygen and vertigo, lost many toe nails which turned blue and simply fell off and had never walked 9 hours a day up and down hill (sorry alpine mountain) for 7 days, I never regretted it. The solitude. The peace. The views. Those magnificent glaciers. The icy, Curaçao tinted lakes. The cool, clean, pure rivers. The wild berries and flowers. Add to that: glowing skin, which caviar creams and animal foetus injections from La Prarie could never compete against. Once a trekker, always a walker. We always take the longer route everywhere . If it's from Altinho to Altinho for 45 minutes or 2 hours, we go via the Stations of the Cross near the Bishops Palace. Then uphill from the Portuguese Consulate to the High Court. Back down the steps opposite the Immaculate Conception Church. The longest route back. Sometimes via Mala and the Hanuman Temple steep hill face. Often via the St. Inez road from opposite the Kala Academy which brings one up the hill from the "other side". Go figure. In Capadocchia, Turkey; that magical landscape of mushroom tops, gnome caps and monastic caves, we arrived at Sunset Point an hour early. Decided to take a "walk" to kill time. Artist Theodore Mesquita who was with us will never come on a "walk" again. Or maybe never on a holiday with two loonies who go up and down hills like mountaingoats and are then content to sleep at night with severe calve aches, shoulder pain and overall bone creaks. But toned abs and tight butts (always a silver lining in my always positive head). Last evening when my office sent me a curt SMS "Goa Today deadline was yesterday", I admitted to Writer's Block. In 'Gone with the Wind' fashion I replied breezily "Will think about it tomorrow". I go home to Colvale every night but this evening, due to the onset of a viral flu decided to stay in Altinho, Panjim. At 5.30 am, vampire style, I am up. Even if sleep at 4 am, I am up in the wee hours, bright and bushy tailed. Threw on my pullover (always a good thing to be warm in the chill and induce sportive perspiration), Lulu Lemon trackpant (best yogawear in the world, not at designer prices and available only in Canada) and set off in the cloud that envelopes the top of the hill at this hour. While I am wondering what to write about in Goa Today, I succumb to the pre-dawn emotion. I love this time of day. No shadows on the ground. Sky barely lit. Mist in the trees. Bird song and cricket chirps at full blast on invisible BOSE speakers. A troop of army cadets thunder by, guns on their backs. When I peep past the military gates, everyone seems to be in white shorts and keds. Busy as bees. Ah! Goa is safe from a Portuguese retakeover. There are some Pg3 regulars who are on their way for a walk at the always buzzing Joggers Park. Always on track are Cecilia Menezes and Simran Singh (Chief Secretary's wife), sometimes with a white pooch. There are also some regulars who come to walk/jog in their cars or scooters. Eh? Can't they walk there ??? If the drive-to-jog set are a mystery, the conversationally challenged are worse. "You are walking in Altinho ah ?" I wish I could reply in their own local speak : No men. You're blind or what ? I am swimming with Phelps in Beijing! Though it is barely 6 am, the chapel at the Bishop Palace is open and glowing warmily. So I step into the well lit cocoon. I love this chapel. Carved, dark wood altar. Nicely austere. Well designed. Even the tiles on the side walls are topped with a carved wooden edge (nice touch there). None of that ghastly, gold, Baroque stuff on ice-cream coloured 'oil painted' altars and walls; like in some of our other Goan churches. Above all, you can pray in peace. As you can see, my prayers were answered. My Goa Today column is flowing faster than the Mandovi at monsoon tide. Near the Bishop Palace I spot some maids. Why do all the good maids end up for early morning mass? This observation has enhanced my "maid finding" reputation. In Ottawa, my friend Karen is submitting my name for canonization, eversince I found her the sweetest Phillipina maid, Yolanda. There are many in the Wendell-for-Sainthood Club. All thanks to maids. From New York to Istanbul, Sydney to Kobe, all maids were found within a few metres of a church. Due to their inbuilt radar to recognize non-threatening men (read that any way you want), they willingly accompany me to my gracious host's home and begin work the next Sunday. Here in Altinho, some maids walk, not one, but two dogs. They all courteously say "Good Morning". The familiar ones ask "When did you return from holiday? You went to Canada, no?" How do you know? "Patrao and Madam told me !". Why doesn't your Patrao and Madam take out an ad in the Herald and ensure we have a burglary break in ? Instead I bite my tongue and smile diplomatically. One of the good things about early morning walks is that it clears your head. Despite the birdsong, mist and peace it forces you to plan the day ahead and contemplate on what transpired the day before. Some days, it also efficiently drains the system of all feni and vodka residue. But this walk is not doing that. I gave up the booze post holiday; finally listening to my forever protesting liver. Maybe that's why this viral flu has got to me this week. Vodka would have efficiently killed it. But lead me not into temptation. I am going to stay away from distilled grain and fruit. Luxuriate in these wonderful viral aches, attractive rheumy eyes, Rudolph-red nose and loss-of-appetite furry tongue. In the bargain, loose some weight. Get some glow. Hit the gym and yoga mat. When asked "So you went to a spa? You are looking so healthy!", I will regally reply: No ! I had a column to do for Goa Today and went for a couple of walks on the Altinho hill! ------------- The StyleSpeak column above appeared in the September 2008 issue of Goa Today magazine ======