There are those who hold that Goa has gone to the dogs. But then they haven’t stayed a night at the Vivenda dos Palhaços. They haven’t paid their respects to Toby, the basset hound-in-residence. They haven’t retired to the dim-lit confines of the Chummery for a warm afternoon’s siesta. They haven’t sipped cold beer on Vivenda’s verandah and watched life in rural Salcete go by. I have, so I’d suggest you take my word for it.
Once you’ve extracted yourself from Dabolim airport, turn south, not north. When there’s just a whiff of South Goa in the air, you’ll be in the village of Majorda. Turn away from the beach and towards the village proper, to the Costa Vaddo, and down a quiet lane where Simon and Charlotte Hayward (and Toby Basset) have laid out the red carpet for you (I exaggerate, of course — you’ll probably only interrupt their siesta). The brother-sister duo, may their tribe increase, have rescued another crumbling Goan mansion from oblivion, in what is a remarkable and affectionate bit of restoration. They’re not your usual wide-eyed expats either. Simon and Charlotte (they’re English) were both born and brought up in India, being the fourth generation of the family to live in the country, and by all accounts they’re taking it sportingly.
Immediately upon arrival at the Vivenda, and at alarmingly frequent intervals thereafter, someone will offer you a drink. This should not surprise you, as you learn that Simon’s grandfather had set up the Bengal Distilleries Co. around 1905, manufacturing spirits under the brand name Hayward’s (so now you know why the name seems familiar). The company was sold to Shaw Wallace in the 1950s, and Simon’s father worked for them for many years. The legendary beer to which the family lent its name is to this day the favoured tipple of truckers across the length and breadth of the subcontinent. Vivenda’s Lorry Back Bar (the painted back of a truck forms the bar’s shutter and, being Goa, is always down) pays cheery tribute to this devoted clientele.
Simon, who gave up a cushy advertising job in Mumbai to set up the place, bumped into the house a few years ago and promptly bought it. Why? In his own words: “What does a guy in advertising do when he hits 40?” That the house was earlier held by the proprietors of Big Boss feni seems entirely appropriate. The Portuguese house, at the front of the property, was built in 1929. Towards the back is a house with rammed earth walls, which is a bit older. After some frenetic restoration a few seasons ago, the Vivenda welcomed its first visitors.
Each of the seven rooms (one is a tent in the back garden) has been done up in a distinctive style and named after places in India where the family has lived in the past (in Bengal and Tamil Nadu). As you enter the house, to the right is the spacious Konnagar, replete with four-poster bed and private balcony, named after the settlement on the Hooghly where the original Hayward distillery came up. The large bathroom boasts a cast iron bathtub rescued from the Royal Bombay Yacht Club. (This is a house of curiosities — with a barber and dentist’s chairs plonked on the balcony, picked up during Simon’s stints in Singapore and Hong Kong, made me extremely jealous.) To the left is Alipore, whose long and narrow bathroom was created by enclosing the space between the two houses. Further on, in the older house, is Madras (French doors, open-air bathroom), followed by Ballygunge (pink drapes, blue bathroom). I’m in Ooty. Sitting pretty in the middle of the courtyard, the all-white Ooty, which has a bold open bath with smashed mirror mosaic walls and nude prints, used to be the kitchen. Beyond the pool in the back garden is Chanpara, a tent kitted out with old camping furniture, which recalls the shooting camp 40 miles north of Calcutta where Simon spent many happy Christmases as a child. But the real jewel is revealed last — Chummery, a self-contained cottage behind the main house, with its own private sit-out. It is named for their father’s bachelor pad at 3 Dover Park, Calcutta, in the 1950s, (and that’s where I’m staying next time). Vivenda dos Palhaços, the unremittingly curious may note, means House of Clowns (long story, ask Charlotte).
The many eclectic spaces that make up the Vivenda are as diverse and engaging as an entire circus troupe — quirky rooms, several sit-outs, and much more. The collectibles, the art, the family photographs, the massive dining table of local mutti wood, the comforting church pews donated by a friend, the bric-à-brac… all come together to create something so much more than ‘boutique hotel’. It’s a home, where you’re a privileged guest. And the rooms have neither TVs nor phones to distressingly connect you to urban ‘attractions’.
The interiors were done by Niki Fairchild (whose deft touch I admired earlier this year at The Apsara in Laos). The kitschy Indian strokes come with the territory: Ganesha tiles in the kitchen, 400ml ‘Janata’ oil measuring jugs doubling up as vases, shiny steel baltis doing duty as waste bins.
The pink photo album at the bar tells the story of the restoration in pictures. By all accounts, it was quite the fixer-upper. Artisans from Rajasthan were brought in to do the Indian Patent Stone floor (known to us as the ‘red oxide’ floor, but a charming terracotta hue here) and the terrazzo bathrooms and the lovely, lovely traditional mirror-smooth plastered walls. The teak doors and windows were stripped of their thick brown paint to reveal the delicate grain below. Rafters on which paddy-threshing mats used to be stacked have been preserved, but the overhead lighting nestled in a coconut tree trunk is a new addition among the beams. For all that, the Vivenda wears its new clothes lightly, with nary a snooty brick in its walls. It’s just another house in the village, attuned to its surroundings.
Majorda presents rural Goa in its most charming aspect. Paddy fields stretch to the horizon. Just a kilometre away, one of Goa’s finest strips of white sand — all 26km of it — extends from Bogmallo, just south of the airport, to the Leela in the south. Martin’s Corner is, well, just round the corner. I landed in the middle of two community events. One sombre, the other joyous. Majorda’s Mae de Deus Church is the axis around which social life in the village revolves. Just across the railway tracks is the Ferns Coffin Shop (‘Free Delivery’). When business is slow, Ferns also sells veggies. I arrived at the church just as a funeral was about to begin. The entire community had turned up, literally by the bus load. A band played. In the evening, Charlotte ferried me to a neighbour’s to witness a rousing ritual. Every year, before Christmas, six statues of Our Lady leave the church to stay a night at each home in the village. Each evening, in a candle-lit procession, the statue is escorted to the next house. There is incense and chanting, singing and snack platters.
The hospitality à la Vivenda is as lively and old-fashioned. They feed you well. The menu for the evening’s three-course dinner is displayed at strategic locations around the house from the crack of dawn, leaving you no option but to sign up. The day I dined, Chef Russell offered vegetable samosas with tamarind relish, a memorable chorizo and chicken roulade with spicy yam mash, and a sweet finish of banana beignets and rum-raisin ice cream. The next day he rustled up fish cakes with papaya sambal, beef kurmah and roti canai, and a tempting dessert of rainbow satays with clove Cointreau drizzle. And followed it up on the day I was leaving (in the afternoon, damn!) with chicken liver pâté on aubergines, fish with roasted tomato pesto and lime curd tartlets.
When the weather is nice (and, in Goa, it rarely isn’t), meals are served at the huge concrete altar table in the back garden. This encourages a convivial atmosphere (although you won’t be forced to commune if you’re more of an anchorite).
There’s much — or nothing — to do here, depending on your inclination. Mornings steal upon the house, gently. Before it gets too warm, you should pedal furiously to the beach for an early swim. You’ll be in time to watch the fishermen hauling the nets in. Return to a breakfast of banana pancakes. Each morning, over breakfast, Charlotte helps guests plan their day. She packed me off on a lovely excursion to Quepem, where Ruben and Celia Vasco da Gama do lunches at their splendidly restored home, the 200-year-old Palácio do Deão. It was one of the best meals I’ve ever had (and I’ve had a few good ones).
How can one write about Goa and not feign some acquaintance with Susegad? So, yes, last time I checked, Susegad was doing brisk business. Especially at the Vivenda, which offers a refreshing alternative to that dreadful triad — the impersonal five-star, the filthy hovel, the all-compromises package hotel. The service is attentive without being obsequious. There are more books here than there is space for, which is the proper way. Toby can be an affectionate host — when he isn’t all over the place, he’s all over you. And after you’ve had the mandatory bottle of Hayward’s 5000, you’re family.
The information
Getting there
By AIR: Goa is connected by air with many Indian cities. Vivenda is a 30min drive from the airport.
By RAIL: Vivenda is 20min from Margao station. The overnight Konkan Express from Mumbai (Rs 1,092 on 2A) is convenient.
The hotel
Vivenda dos Palhaços offers seven rooms, one of which is a tent. All rooms are air-conditioned with en suite bathrooms. Tariffs in the high season (Oct 1-Dec 19 and Jan 6-May 1) range from Rs 4,750 to Rs 8,500 (including all taxes and breakfast). Festive Season (Dec 20-Jan 5) tariffs are higher, monsoon tariffs (May 2-Sep 30) considerably lower. The three-course dinner costs Rs 800. There is also a basic all-day menu. There’s a 12m swimming pool in the back garden. Contact: Vivenda dos Palhaços, Costa Vaddo, Majorda, Salcete, Goa 403713; 0832-3221119, 9881720221; www.vivendagoa.com.
What to see & do
All Goa is your playground. A few recommendations:
Make a day trip to the beautifully restored Palácio do Deão in Quepem, a private residence where you can also have lunch (www.palaciododeao.com). On the way, stop at Chandor to gawp at the treasures of the Casa Menezes Bragança.
To ride, bathe and feed elephants, head out to the Sahakari Spice Farm in Ponda, 40min away (0832-2312394).
Eating: Crab Quay, Pentagon and Zeebop by the Sea are all well-regarded local joints. Above all, don’t miss the superlative steak at Fusion, an atmospheric restaurant just down the road, run by a Brazilian-Dutch couple (0832-2881694).
Cookery Course: From Jan 30 to Feb 2, 2009, the Vivenda will host a long weekend of Italian cooking, led by Diane Seed, who runs one of Italy’s top cooking schools. She will demonstrate three different dinner menus on three consecutive nights and you can eat the results. Tariff: Rs 51,500-Rs 60,500 (depending on the room).