Palolem.

So Palolem; Palolem is an idyllic yet touristic paradise. The sea is blue and warm like a bath, the sand is soft and gets stuck between your toes. The atmosphere is that of a festival: people you've just met treat you like you've known them forever, you can drink with them, smoke with them or in our case discuss the Jewish religion in depth.
As I have already mentioned we met two Israeli people named Maor and Michelle at the beginning of our time in Palolem. They, as our neighbours introduced us to the lively social scene of the town. I've come back (out of Palolem) with a slight Israeli style accent, the trick is to roll the 'r' in your throat, which sounds like you're coughing up phlegm but in a sexy way.
So we were introduced to Eda, Rama and Slava to name a few along with Maor and Michelle we found that they were all incredibly friendly and all exceptionally stoned. They taught me two things; you can roll an unpatriotic spliff (the how I don't know- it's a spliff with a paper coming out of it like a flag, you then burn the flag voila- the defiance of patrioism) and that the Israeli song 'Disco Disco Partizani' is Aymayzing. In my opinion it's the soundtrack to three weeks in Palolem.
We stayed there for so long because of everything that we experienced. Our typical routine being breakfast, swim, sunbathe, dinner and then alcohol (or alcohol throughout the day whilst doing all of the other things!) We both learnt how to relax in a way we never have before, all of the stresses from my previous life disintegrated with the sound of the ocean and the rays of the sun. I have honestly never felt so good.
We stayed in a rickety old beach hut with no hot water, frequent power cuts and many visits from various amphibians/ cockroaches. It was liberating, we had no mirror apart from a tiny compact so body image for the both of us managed to be less precedent than usual.
The owner of our beach hut was never seen, instead, Niall a 15 year old 'badass' took care of us. He called me darling and constantly stole cigarettes. He was nice though, and funny. Dil - one of the boys who worked for the other huts became our friend, he called me sister and brought me flowers that he stolen from a garden. Very cute. There was also Karnataka, the little old man in the shop and 'Papaya, banana, coconut' man. All lovely, all very accepting of our British ways.
We have come out of Palolem as a typical traveller does. Tanned, wearing lots of jewellery (sandalwood especially and trinkets bought off a girl on the beach named Singhitta), henna on our wrists and ankles and a little bit more in touch with ourselves.
Palolem is definitely my favourite place that I have been to so far in my life. So I carry on with my journey with a fond sadness, ready for new experiences but sad to leave this amazing place.