Goa in the Monsoon

Everyone said don't go to Goa in the monsoon. The beaches are closed. The water is rough. The restaurants shut early. The town empties.

All of this is true. None of it matters.

Goa in the monsoon is Goa stripped of its performance. Without the tourists and the parties and the beach chairs for rent, what's left is the actual place — the particular green that only happens after rain, the sound of water on palm leaves, the way the whole coast smells like wet earth and salt and something alive.

I rented a small house in a village I can't spell and spent two weeks cooking things that required many trips to the market. I read four books. I painted every morning. I talked to my landlady, who had opinions about everything and was right about most of it.

This is what I want from travel now: not the place's best self, but its honest self.