So we lost almost a day, but hey no worry. We’d have no troubles at all, getting there on day four. Or so we thought. We had some issues getting the engine fired up and all in all, it just wouldn’t run properly. After some serious thinking we figured it out. Every single person that checked our engine before the Germans found us, decided that we just didn’t put enough oil in our tank and usually just got some more in it.
So we just got it all out, filled in a decent mixing of petrol and oil and off we went… Until our engine made KLAKLANG! Noise and we weren’t going at all. In the middle of bloody nowhere.

Luckily another team came by and towed us to the next village. And Michele found an address of a mechanic and he even picked up the phone. After some concerned shouting into the phone we were left wondering if he actually understood our misery. And then the phone blinged and we got this one lovely message: “No worry medum! Mechanic will come to your place!”
And so we waited, watched trucks and cars and busses go by until one bus stopped and a shy guy with a little bag walked towards us “I am mechanic. You phone?” He got our clutch out - which simply had fallen into pieces – stared at it in disbelieve and showed it to us. “Open!” We nodded and shrugged. “Yeaaah?” And he wobbled his head. “No Open!” and so he started fixing it back together again.

Then he took us to the next city and we paid his boss and then we decided in an act of heroism, that we still had time to make it to Gokharta! We made it. Barely. It was pitch black and we couldn’t see shit. But we made it. And we found a horrible hotel. And we weren’t happy at all. But then someone pointed us to the only restaurant nearby, which looked like a little veranda with some tables on it. It was run by three elderly ladies and the food was heavenly! And this day we found out: No matter how much your day sucks… if you get a decent Masala Chicken… you’ll feel great in the end.

And then we finally reached Palolem. Where I fell in love with Goa just a little. It was very much a tourists place. But it had all these bars and nice little beach huts and a lovely bookshop. Seriously, I could have stayed there for days and just feel all happy and relaxed.
In Mandrem luck was on our side.We hit a Hotel named Dunes where we just arrived at the right time. One hour earlier and the room we got would still have been reserved for someone who didn’t show up and five minutes later and some other runners would have gotten said room. I don’t know if said runner found another hotel or had to carry on into the night (we’re not really sorry it was an awesome place :D)

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