I stepped aboard and walked the aisle to find a man in my assigned seat. I accommodated his request to switch so that him and his wife could be together for what the Indian Railways called the “Happy Journey.” It was a smooth and comfortable overnight ride to the Madgaon Station in Goa where I disembarked. I had come to Goa to explore the area with hopes of finding a good place to do some writing.

Standing on the platform, waiting for the local train to Palolem I said hello to a long, brown-haired roundish woman standing beside me who had a friendly smile.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Gokarna, and you?”

“Palolem,” I replied.

"I slipped off the train behind a couple of other backpackers. From the platform, I could see a mob of travelers below."

“Oh, I’m actually going to meet a friend in Gokarna who just left Palolem, she didn't like it, she was pissed at all the loud music” she said.

But my report was different. I had received an e-mail from a couple of girls from California I had met in Varanasi that described the long beaches lined with palm trees and the warm water.

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