How I learned to let people in again in Palolem
Chapter 11: Saying yes to life and connection
This is chapter 11 of Love at First Flight, my round-the-world travel memoir. Missed the previous chapters? You can catch up here.
Independence was my shield—my badge of honour and the passport to my dream solo trip. Travelling alone through India meant freedom. In Hampi, I'd finally slowed down enough to hear my intuition and it led me to Palolem.
What I didn’t know is I wasn’t just being drawn to a place—but to a person.
The bus pulled away, leaving me in the pitch-black silence of a deserted car park—like the opening scene of a backpacker horror movie.
Only two other women stepped off into the eerie darkness. Everyone else was continuing to Gokarna, a popular pilgrimage site.
I’d followed my heart, not the crowd—but now, I wasn't so sure.
As the first blush of orange touched the sky, waking birds started chirping and our path into town slowly emerged from the shadows. With our heavy backpacks pulling on our shoulders, together we plodded towards Palolem.
Step by step, I felt the first flicker of hope.
Finding Francisco
When Francisco introduced himself, I couldn’t believe it. Could this really be the man I’d come here to find? The first person I asked?
To test him, I asked for the names of two boys who’d recently stayed with him—my friends from Hampi. Without hesitation, he said:
“Yes, Jonathan and Peter. Lovely boys. The room they stayed in is available if you want to take a look.”
That settled it. Francisco led me to his modest guesthouse and handed me the key, adding:
“There’s a man staying in the other room. He’s travelling alone, too.”
As I approached my room, he gave me one final piece of advice:
“Don’t make friends with the locals—they’ll rob you.”
I took his warning seriously. Since the end of my long-term relationship a few years earlier, self-reliance had become my armour. Guarding myself was second nature.
I locked my door twice—with the key and a padlock. No one was getting in.
Or so I thought.
A room of my own
Above the bed, a tangle of electrical wires led to overloaded sockets. Bracing myself, I flipped the switch.
Nothing exploded, the ceiling light turned on and I took a look at the room.
Like many washrooms I’d visited in Goa, my room’s concrete shower area was filthy. Keen to bathe, stepped into it. I twisted the tap and water shot out sideways, missing me almost entirely.
But at least it was hot water. That was a luxury. And in the morning, Francisco would make me his famous breakfast.
Happy to be here, I set out to discover the town.
Exploring Palolem
Lively bars and restaurants lined the shore.
Stepping across the sand, I let the cool waves curl around my toes and ankles. The Arabian Sea stretched before me, vast and inviting. But I lingered at the edge, content to feel its touch without diving in.
After lunch, I found a nearby bar and drew some pencil sketches for my daily creativity challenge. The sky melted into a warm orange sunset.
That evening, still buzzing from finding Francisco’s place, I fell asleep early—beneath the tangle of wires and beside my dodgy shower. I didn’t wake until morning.
An unexpected meeting
Francisco called out to me as the aroma of spices filled the air.
He had prepared chana masala, a curried chickpea dish, served with sweet tea and a local newspaper. A perfect way to start the day.
After breakfast, I went for a morning walk on the beach. When I returned to the guesthouse, the door to the other room opened and a man stepped out—the other guest Francisco had mentioned.
Tall and dark-haired, he flashed a grin.
"Hey! I’m Arjun. Got here a couple of days ago—travelling around India.
Without thinking, I ran my fingers through my hair, as I introduced myself. Then he asked:
“Got any plans today?”
I knew exactly what my plans were. I’d read about this place in my guidebook.
“Yeah, I’m walking to Patnem, up the shore.”
His gaze held mine, warm and steady, as he said:
“That’s a shame. I could’ve given you a lift on my motorbike. But I’m going to Agonda—supposed to be really peaceful.”
He pointed in the opposite direction to Patnem, hesitating long enough to leave the offer hanging between us. I broke the silence:
“That’s really kind, but I just got here. Thought I’d explore on foot first.”
Was that a flicker of disappointment on his face?
“Okay, cool. Have fun—see you later.”
Was there a spark between us? No—impossible. Right?
My walk to Patnem
The path to Patnem wound through jungle foliage, scattered with burnt-orange flowers and shimmering streams.
Tiny lizards darted past as I stepped over fallen logs. A rustic yoga resort along the way advertised open-air lessons and vegetarian dishes.
As I approached the town, I noticed signs offering a reward for the return of a stolen laptop. I clutched my bag tighter. Inside, my own laptop was wrapped in a sarong. Francisco was right—I should be cautious.
Patnem was quiet. Too quiet. Despite it being the tail-end of high season, the wide stretch of sand held only a few empty sunbeds and fishing boats pulled ashore.
I found a café with WiFi to write my blog and settled at a small table. A waiter approached and took my order of a masala chai. Then, out of nowhere, he asked:
“Are you married?”
I blinked. That’s… direct. Unsure what reaction to expect, I replied:
"No."
He nodded and walked away, leaving me confused.
An hour later, my blog post was finished, and my mug of chai was as empty as the beach. As I stood up to pay, something caught my eye—a laminated document near the till. Curious, I took a peek.
It was a checklist for polite small talk in English, provided for the staff. One of the suggested questions was: are you married?
I exhaled a quiet laugh. There was no ulterior motive. He’d just been following a script.
As I left to walk back to Palolem, I caught his eye and gave him a friendly wave.
A romantic evening alone
That evening, I put on a dress and headed to the local restaurants.
In one, a live band was playing 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins—one of my favorite songs. I took a table and skimmed the menu.
Candlelit tables dotted the beach, couples laughing and chatting at every one. The scent of grilled seafood and warm spices drifted through the air, mixing with the rhythmic hush of the waves.
Sitting alone, I suddenly wished I was married. I reread the menu several times for something to do. When my cocktail arrived, I sipped it far too quickly.
Later, after I’d finished my meal, a local boy performed a mesmerizing display of fire-dancing and fire-eating. The hypnotic orange flames twirled against the night sky, burning with an intensity that both inspired and unsettled me.
Behind him, green laser lights sliced through the dark sky, reflecting off the waves. Curious—and aching for conversation—I gestured toward them.
“What’s that?”
The waiter glanced up.
“Silent disco. Biggest one in Palolem.”
I raised an eyebrow:
“Silent?, I replied. “How does that work?”
He grinned.
“Headphones. Three different DJs. You pick your music and guess what everyone’s dancing to.”
I laughed.
“That actually sounds incredible.”
“It is,” he said. “You should go.”
I wanted to. But it was far away in a secluded bay and I wasn’t about to walk there alone at night. I had to be sensible.
Still, as I left, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing out—on more than just the party.
Reluctantly, I returned to the guesthouse alone and went to bed.
Saying yes
The next morning, as I ate breakfast, Arjun stepped out of his room.
After my lonely evening, I was happy to see him—and his expression lifted, as if he’d been waiting for this moment too.
“Plans today?”
Arjun leaned against the doorframe. I returned his smile.
“Not yet, just flipping through my guidebook.”
His eyes lit up.
“Perfect. I’ve got the motorbike, you’ve got the book—looks like we make a good team.”
I laughed.
“That so?”
“Yeah,” he said. “So… how about we pick a spot together and I’ll take us there?”
This time, I didn’t hesitate—I said yes.
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Stay tuned for the next chapter, where our motorbike ride from Palolem leads to unexpected adventures and a deeper connection.
Thank you so much for your support! ✨
I need to know what happens with Arjun, stat. 🥰
Loved this chapter Claire. Write on!