Homecoming: VW Jetta midnight drives

Words: Aatish Mishra

Photography: Gaurav S Thombre

I am not sure if you know how we come up with our stories, but here’s how it works. The Ed will call us all in, say something along the lines of, “We’ve got a <insert car name here> and want to do something fun with it. Any ideas?” And then Dipayan will suggest we go flatout on the slightest bit of open road he can find, Ben will overanalyse it and suggest we compare it to another car, which has absolutely no relation to it whatsoever, and Ouseph will suggest we take it off road. Then Sirish sighs, and we start over again.

So when the Jetta came to the office, we went through the same routine all over again until the idea came about of exploring cities at midnight. That’s how Dipayan ended up ‘losing a bit of his heart’ (his words, not mine) to Mumbai. And since that story came out so well, we thought of continuing the same story concept again. All we needed was a new city. “Panjim? ”, I suggested. “Done”, replied Sirish. I jump at every chance I get to go back home.

That’s how I found myself back home in Goa (even though my name suggests otherwise, I did grow up here) in our Volkswagen Jetta. Panjim is by no measure a big city, and that’s precisely what makes it such a pleasure to drive in. Sure, with its narrow lanes parking can be an issue, but who wants to get out of the car when it’s a car like the Jetta? With fabulous roads and barely any traffic, there is absolutely no reason not to take a car out for a spin within the city limits. Unlike Pune, the people here have basic road sense and aren’t on a kamikaze mission every time they swing a leg over a motorcycle. I can finally relax behind the wheel instead of being perched at the edge of my seat trying to avoid every lunatic scooterist weaving through traffic.

So, cocooned in the Jetta’s leather-draped cabin, I found myself cruising around very familiar streets. I was making my way to Dona Paula from North Goa and was in the quaint village of Saligao, just a few kilometres away from the commercial (read tourist infested) hub of Goa, Calangute and Baga. Saligao isn’t famous for much, except for one tiny joint where you get some of the tastiest rava fried prawns I’ve ever had (my mouth is watering just writing about it) and the Saligao church. The Saligao Church or the Mae De Deus Church is quite unlike other churches you see around Goa. The Gothic architecture lends it a distinct shape, sharp lines run along the side of the building and it is adorned with more steeples than you’d bother to count. At night, each steeple is lit up individually and the church looks especially stunning.

To get to Panjim from Saligao, you would ideally want to take the Chogm road in to Porvorim and then get into Panjim. I, however, had other ideas. I was in a Jetta and didn’t want to waste my time blasting down a highway; I got plenty of it while getting to Goa from Pune in the first place. Instead, I wanted to take an alternate route, through Candolim, in to Nerul and then alongside the Mandovi river to Panjim.

So I turned the car around and headed towards Candolim. Although they are a part of the same stretch of road, Candolim is relatively less crowded than Calangute and Baga. The Jetta was more than  comfortable gliding along the main avenue, cutting a fine shape. It’s a really good-looking car, this Jetta, all sharp lines and crisp details. And in this shade of deep blue, it looks even more stunning. The last time I was on this road, I was riding a borrowed scooter in chappals and a t-shirt. My attire, save for the chappals, hasn’t changed drastically but my steed, and the attention I was receiving certainly has.

Turn off the main road on to the narrow lanes leading to the village of Nerul, and you’re suddenly hit by a sea of calm. You leave all the restaurants, shops and Russians behind and are welcomed by narrow coconut tree lined lanes with typical Goan houses on either side. This is not a road you should be pushing your car on, it is after all a village. But a little further down, you come along a few nice stretches of pristine tarmac, just enough to give me a taste of what the Jetta is really capable of. Jab the throttle and the wave of torque that follows firmly shoves you back into your seat. Fling the car around a corner hard and the front just grips and grips. The damping is so good that it soaks up every undulation thrown at me with ease, urging me to push the car just a little more with every corner. Driving hard on these roads if you are unfamiliar with them isn’t the best idea, but I know them like the back of my hand. Every blind curve, every speed breaker was anticipated for well in advance and the Jetta rewards you. Before I knew it, I was at Betim and had to cross the bridge over the Mandovi river and in to Panjim.

Upon entering Panjim, I found myself settling into a dignified cruise once again. As soon as you cross the bridge in to Panjim, you find yourself driving on the promenade alongside the river. I’m half tempted to get on a boat and hop over to one of the casino ships in the water. While my car may look the part for a night of punting, my bank account certainly does not, so I give it a pass. Panjim was not always the capital of Goa. Until 1843, what is currently old Goa used to be the capital until it fell prey to an epidemic outbreak. Panjim, like the rest of Goa, has very strong Portuguese influences; it was a Portuguese colony much longer than India was a British colony. The red tiled roofs, wrought iron balconies and front balcãos (porches) are quintessential to the region. At the heart of the city, lies the Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception church. It was first built way back in 1541, and then rebuilt in 1619 in the form that it currently is.

An early dinner of beef cutlet pao (don’t lynch me please) at one of my favourite haunts as a student – D’Silva’s Catering – filled my belly up good and proper before heading back home. And this time, with the Jetta parked in the driveway, there were no “beta, what are you doing with your life” lectures. A Jetta parked in the driveway means you’re doing something worthwhile in life. And best of all, I had the drive back to Pune to look forward to the next day.