“Don’t sit there. There’s a boa constrictor under the cushion,” Christina says. I chuckle. “Don’t worry, it’s sleeping, it just ate a squirrel,” she says. It’s lying there, Shiny and scaly, like a swollen leather belt. I roll my eyes before I can see a squirrel-sized lump in the middle of it. “Are you sure it won’t attack me?” Why should? It can’t eat you.” We’re in the tribe’s open kitchen, under a thatched-roof canopy supported by bamboo stilts. It’s a large circular space, deafened with the cries of birds and indiscriminate greenery, of all sizes on one side. Pots and pans, vegetables and fruits in a mesh cupboard, well equipped with perishables in a cold earthen pot. I’m tossing some noodles with vegetables for dinner, in case the boa digests the squirrel And is eager to shrink again, so with an eye under the cushion.
Our ‘room’ is a double mattress on a plank atop a tree, covered with a mosquito net. We are advised to put everything in a metal trunk lying aside, or the civet cat, pangolin or monitor lizard will run away with our purses and phones. They especially like toiletries. Tribe is an off-grid tourist destination down the road from Canacona Bus Station to Agonda Beach. There is no electricity, internet or phone signal. You cook your own food. The toilet is a compost pit and the bath is a bucket and mug under a tree, covered with a sackcloth. It was started four years ago by German-Englishman Alexander Carpenter and Venezuelan Cristina Silva Toledo, who have taken up a vast tract of nearly dry land and are determined to make it into a lush forest. They talk deeply about their plans at night; We hear crickets and frogs racquet, under a clear starry sky, and come back sure they will achieve their dreams.
North and South
Canacona (or Konkani, more musically in Cannacon) is in the southern tip of Goa; A little strong wave and you will be washed away in Karnataka. Happening beaches, rave parties, good housekeeping houses give way to serene interiors that have yet to be invaded by Delhi and Mumbai as we travel south. As the owner of a shack in Palolem, the beach is what was Calangute or Baga twenty years ago. Canacona has beaches – Palolem, Patnem, Galgibagh, Talpona, Agonda along the sea and in the inner hills and forests, like the dense Khotigao Wildlife Sanctuary where tigers roam. We spend two days in the woods of The Earthn Nest, a four-cottage, eco-friendly resort inside the sanctuary (it has a concrete bed, attached bath, and even a swimming pool). It is rare to see a tiger but a treat for Khotigao birds.
pot of fenis
We roam the winding, lush forest roads in the Honda Activa, feeling young, cool breeze after a thunderstorm at night. We head towards Netravali Lake, about 20 km from Khotigao, and pass through Mangal Farm on the way. It is a completely organic farm that supplies all of Goa, the pandemic has made it difficult for them to meet the demand as more people cook at home and look for quality ingredients. There are rows of vegetables and herbs in the houses, and at the far end is the distillery where they make feni the old-fashioned way – ripe cashews are fermented in clay pots and double distilled to obtain a clear liquid. The old house has been converted into a boutique hotel, restaurant that offers fusion cooking from the farm.
passion for food
All Tony’s restaurants may be on the north side, but there are enough creative chefs on Palolem-Patnem beach. Satish and Manna, who have spent time in Mumbai’s Lintas, run a canteen serving Indian vegetarian dishes in Tanjore. The filter coffee is made with coconut milk and the pulled ‘pork’ wraps are made of jackfruit. Zest is another vegetarian eatery for their berry smoothies and crunchy salads. Orem 88, run by Englishman Brett, serves up five-star-level continental fare, The Mill, set in an old rice mill still with a metal thrasher in the middle, serving up the best of creamy homemade fettuccine. Rama’s kitchen is for authentic Goan fish thali and Bhakti Kutir for Kerala Sadhana on Sundays. After so much hustle and bustle, Millie’s Kitchen on Agonda Road is the antidote – a wholesome, home-cooked meal served by the good old Milli Aunty with a dollop of love.
(It appeared in the print edition as “Canacona Diary”)
Satish Padmanabhan, Executive Editor, Outlook
.