Three buses, a train, and a boat ride later, we walked onto Agonda beach in the southern region of the Goan coast.  We had made a last minute reservation at the Fusion resort situated at the very southern end of the 3 km long beach.  One of the lesser developed beach towns of Goa, Agonda consists of a variety of wide variety of bungalows, eateries, and shops.  Despite the large capacity for tourists, the beach never felt crowded since it was so large and open.  A hotel staff member mentioned to us that it was noticeably slow this year.  Other than swimming in the surf, we rented a motorbike and headed south to the more built up Palolem Beach for some shopping.  Continuing through quiet beach towns, we arrived at Galgibag beach, a large desolate beach with only a few places to stay.  On the sand we came across two small fenced in areas to protect Sea Turtle eggs, but no turtles.  We relaxed amid the tall trees and sampled some fried oysters, Goan style.  Seafood of course was everywhere; most restaurants had their day’s catch on display on ice.  Also quite popular were steamed dumplings called Momos, from Tibetan cuisine.
Three full days on the beach later, we took off for Thailand, flying from Goa to Mumbai, then onto Bangkok.  Having dealt with the complicated train and bus systems, we were somewhat but not fully prepared for the arduous process of getting onto the plane.  Entering the airport required waiting in line to have reservations examined, then we found the “line” for check-in.  Line is a term used in the most informal manner in this case.  Indian culture does not, for whatever reason, teach anything about line etiquette.  We felt as if we were defending our place in the line, with many people simply unhooking the ropes to ducking under them.  Moving forward in the line, we were jabbed in the legs with the luggage cart of the group behind us  everytime we inched forward.  Once with our boarding passes and carry-on luggage stamped with approval, we got in line for security.  Instead of a metal detector, everyone received the pat down.  One final checkpoint and we were allowed into the departure lounge.  At departure time, just to be sure, we were checked for our stamps walking onto the jetway.  Once in Mumbai, we transferred via the free shuttle bus to the international terminal.  At the bus stop, another security checkpoint, and many signs warning not to tip the porters.  Not so surprisingly, the porter asked for a tip as he stowed our bags in the bus.  The brand new international terminal was an architectural marvel with a clean and grid-like white interior.  Signs in the duty-free boasted claims of “cheaper than Dubai!”.  The bold extravagance of the airport, and the rest of our experiences across southern India could have been from different worlds.  India brought its fair share of challenges, more so than any other country we’d visited.  However, I would say it’s the absolute best place to visit to widen one’s perspective.