Flying Solo

Due to a couple of unfortunate developments, I found myself rather alone on my trip Pune and Goa, both literally and figuratively.

Pune wasn't too bad, being full of long days commuting an hour to the new office on the other side of town and eight-hour training sessions. Mind-numbing days like those have a way of sapping one's energy to the point that you don't think too much about what you thought were well-laid plans going completely awry due to the decisions of others.

Goa, on the other hand, was different. This was supposed to be a family holiday, but Dad fell ill right before he and Mum were to leave Chennai for Goa (we still don't know exactly what's ailing him, but we suspect it is something mosquito-borne). So there I was, in India's major tourist-trap, with a blank agenda to be filled by moi, and I wanted to do something spectacular.













I think I did alright.

By way of explanation, I went parasailing on Colva Beach. The guys who operate the ride send up someone with you to manipulate the parachute, and they send upto two people on a ride. My co-passenger was a Swiss tourist named Andrea, whose husband wanted no part of it. His loss.

Oh, and that's one item off my Bucket List. Yes, I know I said "hang gliding", but that was a generic term for flying in a non-aeroplane, non-helicopter way for a change. (Yes, I've ridden in a helicopter, but that was before I developed my Bucket List. Ergo, it didn't have to make it on the list.)

PS: Para-sailing was awesome.