A few months ago some friends asked me if I knew about a Monastery here in South Goa, I presumed immediately, as my friends are 'foreigners' that the only reason they would be on a quest to find such a place was because either the monks produced some of the finest cheese in India made from milk from the offspring of a pygmy buffalo and a dachshund, or produced some alcoholic beverage that would be amusing when served with their amuse bouche.
Making a mental note that it probably related to something being force fed.......I informed my friends that in Canacona we have a Mutt but not a Monastery and then distracted them with directions to a local restaurant where they could savor fresh oysters and a bottle of chilled Kingfisher [2011 vintage]. The Mutt and the Monastery were quickly forgotten…….
Then a few days ago I was driving on the NH 17, perplexed by the oncoming vehicle’s trajectory from a notorious bend was sending it straight for me and that the rear of lorry seemed to coming at a faster rate of knots than the front!……another story……I digress………think Rhombus or in this case the‘ Margao to Karwar Express’ …….I pulled over to the verge and stopped!
I shook my head and looked up to the heavens and there it was a sign! ‘Carmelites’…..it was not a poster for a 70’s style quartet group, although that’s not a bad business idea for Goa….make mental note.., no, the sign was for their ‘Crib’! Oops bad choice of M TV phrase.
I must admit I was intrigued so decided to take a look….. very nice ……nice gardens…..no one around……very very quiet….perhaps they are just doing ‘Monk-ey’ things..Oops that does not sound right…. so should I just walk in and shout ‘Hi’ and ‘Where’s the cheese?’
Decided that was not the thing to do, I have seen Robin Hood where Friar Tuck continually beats the crap out of people….innocent people I might add, just doing a job to pay the mortgage, send the kids to school and pay the next installment on their new wheel and work out why the wife wants Jimmy Choo shoes, she lives in 16th Century Nottingham, for Humpty's sake!
So I walk in…..fantastic atmosphere….calm…..peaceful……but no people. I felt awkward….’How do you do?’ A really normal chap appeared , when I say ‘appeared’ I don’t mean in a’ Biblical’, ‘Chris Cross’ sort of a way, he just opened the door…….
‘Hi I am Chris and I don’t know why I am here!’ I still can’t believe I said that!
Anyway, basically it’s like a ‘Prayer Centre’, it’s in a lovely location and you can stay but it has to be arranged by your local diocese. The ‘Carmelite’ I met was a really nice guy, I had never met one before!…No brown shroud……no baldy bit…..nothing like Father Ted or Father Jack or the Vicar of Dibley ……had a new Activa and jeans! Very impressive……
So no ‘cheese and wine party’ this time, just a reminder to me about how diverse and wonderfully entertaining Goa can be, a magnet for mind, body, soul and those wanting a suntan!
Making a mental note that it probably related to something being force fed.......I informed my friends that in Canacona we have a Mutt but not a Monastery and then distracted them with directions to a local restaurant where they could savor fresh oysters and a bottle of chilled Kingfisher [2011 vintage]. The Mutt and the Monastery were quickly forgotten…….
Then a few days ago I was driving on the NH 17, perplexed by the oncoming vehicle’s trajectory from a notorious bend was sending it straight for me and that the rear of lorry seemed to coming at a faster rate of knots than the front!……another story……I digress………think Rhombus or in this case the‘ Margao to Karwar Express’ …….I pulled over to the verge and stopped!
I shook my head and looked up to the heavens and there it was a sign! ‘Carmelites’…..it was not a poster for a 70’s style quartet group, although that’s not a bad business idea for Goa….make mental note.., no, the sign was for their ‘Crib’! Oops bad choice of M TV phrase.
I must admit I was intrigued so decided to take a look….. very nice ……nice gardens…..no one around……very very quiet….perhaps they are just doing ‘Monk-ey’ things..Oops that does not sound right…. so should I just walk in and shout ‘Hi’ and ‘Where’s the cheese?’
Decided that was not the thing to do, I have seen Robin Hood where Friar Tuck continually beats the crap out of people….innocent people I might add, just doing a job to pay the mortgage, send the kids to school and pay the next installment on their new wheel and work out why the wife wants Jimmy Choo shoes, she lives in 16th Century Nottingham, for Humpty's sake!
So I walk in…..fantastic atmosphere….calm…..peaceful……but no people. I felt awkward….’How do you do?’ A really normal chap appeared , when I say ‘appeared’ I don’t mean in a’ Biblical’, ‘Chris Cross’ sort of a way, he just opened the door…….
‘Hi I am Chris and I don’t know why I am here!’ I still can’t believe I said that!
Anyway, basically it’s like a ‘Prayer Centre’, it’s in a lovely location and you can stay but it has to be arranged by your local diocese. The ‘Carmelite’ I met was a really nice guy, I had never met one before!…No brown shroud……no baldy bit…..nothing like Father Ted or Father Jack or the Vicar of Dibley ……had a new Activa and jeans! Very impressive……
So no ‘cheese and wine party’ this time, just a reminder to me about how diverse and wonderfully entertaining Goa can be, a magnet for mind, body, soul and those wanting a suntan!
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