We woke up to a knocking on the door from our landlady. We had to return the moped and the lady was demanding the key. We were a little worried there may have been damage to it but if there was, we were not found out. 
My body had definitely been feeling better. And needless to say we were not going on the tour we had booked the day before. This was probably the least of our worries as waking up I was beginning to feel the pain. The abrasions to my knee and my arms looked bad superficially and gave me a burning sensation but my ribs and and side felt bruised. We decided the best idea would be to head to the hospital and to spend the day in a nice hotel. We said earlier on in the trip that we would spend some money to have a night in a nice hotel when we really needed it. Today we really needed it. 

We packed up and left and grabbed a taxi to a hotel we had seen the day before. It was 5* luxury with a pool and fitness suite, DVDs, crisp linen and everything else we needed. For £25/pp it was expensive for India but still a bargain. 
We dropped our bags off and headed to the hospital. It was a strange experience but an interesting one. I was seen to in a room with another man crying in pain and it made my injuries seem so much better. The nurse didn’t have the best bed side manner to say the least and I was smeared on my wounds with “red medicine”. No other explanation was given. The doctor came and in an ordered for me to get anti-inflammatories and the nurse, in her slow way, obliged. The most helpful of them all was the chemist who explained to me what the drugs were for and how they could help me. And the process in total came to 500Rupees (around £5). 
We went back to the hotel and treated ourselves to some dinner and settled in to watch some movies. It was nice to take advantage of the service and the concern given to us. We slept all through the night rejuvenating ourselves. 

We could not wake up! An alarm set at 7, I
8 and 9 wouldn’t do anything. It was only the hotel owner waking us up with a knock on the door at 9.30 that woke us up. 

Jet lag had got the best of us. We weren’t sure what to do so we decided to drive up to Baga beach to see if we could find any dive shop. The only shop we could find told us that diving was done. We were out of season and had come at the wrong time. We knew this already but we hoped it wasn’t true. So we booked a trip for tomorrow to go on a water sports adventure. 
We ended up driving to Candolim. About 4 kms south of where we’re staying to have lunch. Tandoori chicken with garlic naan. Probably one of the best meals I have had in my life. We enjoyed it and played cards. After we went down to the beach to swim but were called in by the lifeguard because it was too rough so we just enjoyed the view. We decided instead to drive up to Aguada prison and fort to see what it had to offer. 
It was an old 16th century fort built by the Portuguese to defend the bay from the Dutch. It was fairly impressive and our first look at colonial Goa. The view of the surrounding Bay Area was stunning despite the ominous clouds coming in to signify the rains were about to come. 

We hopped onto our bike and headed back to the hotel to shower, get changed and head out to one of the many bars Baga had to offer. We checked out Titos, an obvious Goan favourite as even the main road signs were pointing towards it. We sampled some of the Goan seafood with Shrimp curry and a couple of frozen margaritas. 
We moved on down the strip of bars to one which drew us in by the sounds of wailing singers indulging in karaoke. We arrived took a seat and within moments handed in a request for a song. When it came to our turn to sing, I can’t say we were appreciated by the crowd. But that didn’t stop us. We met a group of young girls from Mumbai and two young entrepreneurial Indians and danced the night away. 
When it came to leave we got onto our moped and I was eager to drive home and prove my driving skills I had learnt that day. It had been raining and I (a little too eagerly) pulled down on the accelerator. I don’t remember too much but we were lying on the floor with the bike on top of us and a crowd of people circled around us in concern. We were lucky to be with Rahul and his friend as he escorted us back to our hotel with Sam driving at the front. 
Back in the hotel we decided that we needed to disinfect my wounds so I washed myself off in the shower and Sam grabbed the only antiseptic we had, alcohol gel. If you have ever put 99% alcohol on your open wounds, you might have a small idea of the pain I felt thereafter. Screaming out in pain, my body went into shock and I began to shiver. Sam managed to grab a first aid kit from a man across the road from our hotel and she bandaged me up with an antiseptic pad. I promptly fell asleep bundle up in a blanket. 

We boarded our short flight to Goa and quickly found ourselves in the Dabolim airport having our visas checked. First hurdle complete! We were in! 
We caught a taxi all the way to the northern town of Anjuna known for its 1960s hippie-vibes and trance parties. The idea was to start here and head south. The taxi ride was interesting and it’s a surprise the driver knew where he was going but after about an hour of driving we arrived at a dishevelled and quiet building with name of our hostel on the outside. A little apprehensively we sent the taxi off and were left in a paddy field with no place to go but into the building. We were let in to a small lounge room which looked like it was being cleaned up from the remnants of a party the night before and we sat and rested our eyes until 8.30 when we were greeted by the receptionist and offered a much needed breakfast. 
After breakfast we had no option but to head out and explore as our rooms weren’t ready yet. We walked down to the beach from the hostel and a long to the “main centre”. It had a mirky air to it and the haze of tiredness didn’t help the situation. We were cornered by a young girl and boy around 11-18 who started to try to sell us items tempting us in by complimenting our skin tone referring to us as “white chickens”. There didn’t seem to be too much to entertain ourselves with so we decided to enter one of the only bar/restaurants to have a drink and plan our next move. 
We walked back to our hostel to find our rooms still weren’t ready and the lounge room was filled with loud music, smoke, 5 men and a bottle of whiskey. The only thing which interested us was sleep. So we closed our eyes and slept through the party. 
When we finally were allowed into our room we slept again for an hour before making the decision to move on. It seemed that Anjuna didn’t have much to offer but the wreckages of beach parties from the night before so we planned to head to Calangute for the night. 
When we arrived in Calangute the hostel we were aiming for looked like a building site and the taxi driver wasn’t sure where he was going so he dropped us off and we scrambled around looking for somewhere to stay. We settled on a small basic hotel but the hot water, a/c, wifi and private rooms were enough to satisfy us. We rented a moped and set off to explore Calangute and Baga. 
The contrast between Calangute and Baga, and Anjuna was outstanding. The hustle and bustle was something to embrace and the streets were filled with Indians from afar on their holidays. The experience was enhanced by the exhilaration from my first time on a moped on the busy streets of India. 
We headed to Baga beach which was heaving from Indians on holiday. We grabbed dinner at a beach side bar. Our first taste of Indian food! The famous Goan fish curry, butter masala, rice and naans. A whole day with little sleep and no food, it was happily welcomed and washed down with a litre of beer. We made our way back through the hectically busy, lit up streets of Baga and Calangute. Showered and lay down for a proper sleep after 28 hours of solid travel.