For some reason, the town of Margao is given rather short shrift in India guidebooks. True, it doesn’t really have any outstanding “sights,” other than perhaps the old covered market, which is, in actuality, quite utilitarian. It’s a working people’s market, so you don’t find any glittering brass tables here, or sandalwood carvings, or the trinkets that adorn the famous bazaars and markets of India. Instead, you find clothes-pins, and balls of twine, and rubber sandals, and dish clothes, and scrub-brushes and hangars. Oh, yes – and one other unforgettable item: cashew nuts! Goa is famous the world over for her cashews, and the market in Margao specializes in selling all sizes of packages with several different seasonings, including salted, unsalted, with black pepper, with chili powder, with chili and lime, etc. They are very yum, especially if they’re fresh. Another interesting item sold are cone-shaped pieces of jaggery. Jaggery is sugar in its rawest form; very dark (almost black) with molasses. Coffee sweetened with jaggery is the favorite South Indian beverage.

Bill and I both feel that Margao has not been given its due in guidebooks, which too often dismiss it as a town that’s not really worth much except to be used as a major transportation hub. It is described as noisy, polluted, chaotic, and not worth a night’s stay when the beaches are so close by instead. Well. . .and what Indian city is not noisy, polluted and chaotic? Compared to Mysore, for example (which rates rave reviews in the guides), we found Margao a lot LESS of the above. Probably partly because it is smaller, with a lower population, and non-industrial. There is even a charming, old park, right in the center of the city. The humidity is terrific and the temperature is high but, again, so is the rest of South India, unless one is right on the beach.

I can’t quite put my finger on what it is about Margao that we find so appealing, but perhaps it is the Wild West feeling. You get a sense of being in a place that’s a bit on the edge; where anything goes. Margao is slow-paced and old-world, with a charming colonial essence, especially the historical old buildings such as the huge, ancient post office. Yet, it also has at times a fast, European feel, as well. Often, I felt as if I was in Havana, what with the buildings covered in mold, the sidewalk cafes, the humidity and the brilliant flowers and tropical foliage – and the very Iberian-looking people. I get the feeling that living in Margao might be kinda’ fun, in a slightly run-down sort of way. Maybe even a little dangerous.

Margao is….unusual. One of the first things I noticed was the ridiculously large number of pharmacies; out of all proportion to the population. Why would a town of that size need so many pharmacies? There are regular allopathic, ayurvedic, homeopathic and naturopathic chemists. They line the main street and the back alleys. Because prescription drugs are probably cheaper in India than anywhere else in the world, and because you actually never NEED a prescription, in reality, to purchase them, I suspect that this draws some rather sleazy characters to this part of the world, with the intention of buying up drugs at dirt cheap prices, then re-selling them for a tidy profit in their homeland. In fact, we did see some rather shifty-looking characters coming out of back-alley pharmacies, carrying largish parcels. They looked to be Eastern European, and the reason we noticed them was because, in a place like South India, they stood out like a sore thumb, with bad dye jobs and slightly immodest dress (by Indian standards). But that’s just part of the Wild West feel.

One of our reasons for having taken the bus into Margao was to look for some bebinca to take home to friends who had expressed a great appreciation for that very rich Goan specialty dessert. It was easy to find some – we stopped in a Portuguese bakery behind the market, and they had several left. We also ogled all the pretty little cakes and egg-y-looking baked goods, but we resisted.