Salin the Martial Arts Master

Alicia here. Dan and I caught the train up here to Goa in second-class sleeper style, which means: open air train car, crowded 6-berth bunks, grotty toilets, and good cheap coffee in paper cups. I had prepared myself for a wholly uncomfortable experience, but, wouldn't you know - it was actually pretty great, compared to flying on an airplane. You can actually stretch out and lay down, which is nice, and the chapatti and curry they come around selling is pretty darn tasty. There's a constant fresh-air breeze from the window which keeps it from getting too hot, and our bunk-mates on this particular journey were not at all inclined to rob or molest me and were much more inclined to make interesting conversation. This guy Salin on the top bunk (I had middle, Dan had lower), noticed the distinct silhouette of Bruce Lee on Dan's tee-shirt and started chatting him up about martial arts. Salin, who also happened to be dashingly handsome and athletic, had apparently been studying Indian martial arts since he was 7, and was now on a mission to go to China and become a Shaolin monk. He kept saying to Dan, "of course I'm sure you know more about it than me", perhaps he mistook Dan for a martial artist as well. But he's a merchant marine and will be sailing around the world, hitting Vancouver and New York, among other places, before taking 6-7 months off for hardcore training before going to audition for the monks in China. I sure hope he makes it.

After arriving in Goa we took advantage of the beach bar and today are recovering mightily by motoring around the area on a rented scooter-bike. Will head up the beach and see what there is to see. Caught a replay of the Nadal-Federer final on the telly yesterday morning - WHAT a MATCH. I'm glad Nadal won; and I still can't understand how Federer looked so put together at the awards ceremony after 5 hours of tennis.