Humanity lingers and is woven throughout my whole journey. People continue to amaze you, always and everywhere.
It all starts with yourself, taking care of yourself so you can understand others better. A little bridge to self-care.
When I look in the mirror, I see my beard growing. About two weeks ago the last time I shaved back home In Netherlands. The little baby fuzz beard is nothing compared to a real one, but still, I want to get rid of it.
After passing by plenty of barbershops, I decide to walk into one run by a kind man who had earlier shown me a shortcut to the beach. My friend’s name is Parshuram, a cheerful Indian man with a solid build and a thick, proud shiny moustache.
The blade glides smoothly over my chin with soft shaving foam. I’m sitting comfortably as he shaves me with precision. It’s actually the first time I’ve ever been shaved in a salon and it feels amazing. Smooth as a billiard table, I start my day fresh.
A quick word about that homesick feeling: it’s gone. Especially after a FaceTime call with my friend Nigel. He’s out working delivering fish while I’ve just ordered a fresh one. We catch up, laugh a bit, pure gold.
After a short walk earlier I sit down at a lunch spot and order a kingfish. No idea what it is. Soon the waiter appears with an entire fish to show me. “No sauce,” I say, “just grill it — pepper and salt.”
A little later, honestly one of the best fresh fish I’ve ever had. Incredible — a treat and a perfect start to the weekend.
My friend Davey gave me a nice gift when I left the Netherlands, he said if I ever sat somewhere beautiful, he’d pay for lunch.
So I dedicate this lunch to him and enjoy a happiness moment all by myself. A stunning sunset, and I sit there for hours just soaking it in.
Final bill for Davey: €23. Happiness for Stan: priceless.
For context of that €23: a whole fresh fish, prawn masala, naan, three beers, and a liter of water. I thank him warmly with a message, photo, and a payment request. Priceless indeed.
The next day, I travel from South Goa back to North Goa. I will meet Nir, a friend from Vondelgym in Amsterdam. Nir is a family man, father of three daughters, and we’ve known each other for about half a year. He’s the CEO of ASM Maritime, a shipping company, and has people flying in from all over the world about 50 of them for an annual meeting, here in Goa of all places.
It starts on Monday, he has strategy sessions to literally set the course and coordination for his company.
It just happened that we decided to meet up here without knowing how my trip would unfold. I realize how special it is that he gives up his weekend and family time to hang out with me. We haven’t planned anything — we’ll just go with the flow.
First, a 3.5-hour bus ride always fun.
I arrive in Anjuna, and it’s raining as I step off the bus. I sneak into the first café I see to shelter with my backpack. A teenage boy, maybe 14, helps me. He’s a cheeky one, immediately trying to upsell me a snack, which I politely decline I just want a chai. It’s raining, and I sip my tea slowly. Another waiter offers me a scooter for 400 rupees a day.
When I sling my backpack back on, he slips behind me and runs outside. I quickly realize he hasn’t taken anything from me, but something’s up in the kitchen.
As I turn around, I see a small cook running out, holding a ladle dripping with curry. Then the café owner storms after the boy, catches him by the collar and I get the feeling it’s his father.
After some rough dragging, the boy is forced back inside, sat on a stool, and gets a few hard slaps. “Who doesn’t listen must feel,” as they say. Even though it’s clearly punishment, I can see he’s not in real danger.
I don’t intervene. I just stand there, take it in, and move on to my hostel. My thoughts are back to the conversation I had with those boys in Mumbai (in blog 4), where we talked about domestic violence from father to son. It happens more here. Now I’m witnessing it live.
At my hostel, I ask for a scooter rental price: 500 per day. Even after asking again (because it’s the weekend), it stays that way. Of course, everything’s a negotiation game here. I decide to walk back to the restaurant (just five minutes away) where I was offered one cheaper.
After ordering a bottle of water and sitting there a bit, my moral compass beats my commercial compass.
I can’t rent from someone who, indirectly, just contributed to domestic violence.
So I message my hostel manager, offer 1600 rupees for 4.5 days, and he agrees.
You might think, “what’s the big deal?” It’s not about the few euros — it’s about the story behind the story, and I just wanted to share my thoughts.
Nir arrives and grabs a few extra hours of sleep before we meet for lunch. Two smiling faces hug eachother in the hotel lobby. We hop on my scooter, his two-day vacation and my social weekend begin.
We ride to a café I found online. Nir, who’s Israeli, starts chatting in Hebrew with the restaurant manager, who’s been living here for nine years and gives us local tips.
From Café Artjuna, we move on to Curlies Beach Shack. Nir and I talk about our completely different lives and get to know each other beyond gym talk and standard question which kettlebell he picks for a workout. It feels great together, relaxed and even an hour or half an hour of comfortable silence, just looking out over the sea, feels right for both of us.
After a beautiful sunset and a couple of beers, Nir takes a short power nap back at the hotel while I do some writing.
Later, we go out for dinner on our way to a bar we’d been recommended.
We walk into an amazing restaurant and get to taste about twenty different curries before choosing our dish. We order Mutton in a mind-blowingly good curry. Of course, I’ve forgotten the name.
We both enjoy it deeply and realize that beyond how great the food is, we’re creating an unforgettable memory.
That’s what makes this dinner special. It’s not about what’s on the plate — it’s about who’s sitting at the table.
Later, we head to a bar and this is where you see the luxury side of Goa, the one that gives Goa its reputation.
I hadn’t seen that yet, but now I get it — lots of beautiful people, a slightly upscale vibe, and honestly a nice change of pace.
Nir enjoys it too, and we explore some of the spots we’d been told about.
We party, laugh, and have a great first evening together.
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