First Trip to Goa with Friends: Epic Adventures and Hilarious Memories I'll Never Forget

We’ve all planned trips that never happen during our student life—unless it’s a so-called educational trip or some “oh-so-important” excursion. But how many of you relate to this?

“Goa chalte hein yaar”—a phrase every friend group has heard at least a hundred times. I’m no different. So today, I’m sharing the tragic saga of our ill-fated Goa trip.

After navigating the emotional pyaar bhari dhamkiyan from my mom (“Woh Goa wale bacche ache nahi hote!”), my dad’s financial lectures (“Do you think money grows on trees?”), and the constant tang Adana by siblings (“If you go, I’m telling Mom you failed that test”), we finally made a pact. Fourteen of us—10 boys and four girls—decided it was now or never: A grand five-day trip to Goa!

We had it all figured out. The cheapest hotels, where the beds might be harder than our exam papers? No problem! The most budget-friendly food stalls where “food hygiene” is more of a distant dream? No worries! Because, hey, it’s Goa, baby! Who needs comfort when you have the beach?

Day 1: The Big Build-Up

[Disclaimer: please play calming music; otherwise, you can’t keep calm. Trust me, guys]

Before we even hit the road, let me tell you the first setback.

We were all supposed to meet at 7:00 AM sharp at the train station. But in true student spirit, no one showed up on time.

Ritu, our group’s self-appointed Goa master planner, was supposed to get the tickets sorted. As we waited (and waited), he coolly strolled in at 8:15 AM, chomping on a samosa, and dropped the bomb:

“Guys, pata nahi kaise, but I booked tickets for two weeks from now.”

What followed was a scene from an action movie—screaming, chasing, throwing bags in the air. But after calming ourselves (and convincing Ritu to treat us all to chai), we settled on booking buses instead. Problem solved, right?

Wrong! (Out of 14, at least ten puked and rest, four farted strong)

Day 2: The Bus Ride of Doom

[Humein shakti doon o daata is the apt lyrics]

The bus was a different kind of nightmare. Instead of a smooth ride to freedom, we got the bus that would not end. Imagine this: 14 of us crammed into a bus with seats harder than a professor’s stare during exams and legroom so tight that if you drop something, consider it lost forever. The air conditioning? A light breeze at best.

Adding to our misery, the bus broke somewhere between “Middle of Nowhere” and “Lost Forever.”

Three hours later, as we sat stranded on the highway with nothing but chips and namkeen for comfort and not to forget maa ka pyaar, our dreams of sipping coconut water by the beach slowly evaporated into the hot highway air.

Day 3: Goa is On!

Finally, we arrived in Goa. But wait. What’s Goa without a place to stay, right?

We reached the world’s cheapest “hotel,” which, in reality, was more like a garage with beds. The bathroom was...well, let’s say, more adventurous than the trip itself. The food? Maggi and bread pakoras for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After all, we were on a budget!

But this is where things started to get interesting. We spent the day on the beach, taking selfies, splashing in the water, and soaking up the good vibes.

And then, we got the news.

Ritu—yes, Ritu again—had forgotten to book the hotel for the entire trip. Our stay was only for one night.

Panic mode ON.

Day 4: Twist of Fate

This is where things took a dramatic turn. As we scrambled to find another place to crash, we ran into another group of students from Mumbai who had the same problem. United in our shared misery, we allied.

Our new friends suggested we do something spontaneous: Why not camp out on the beach? We laughed at the idea at first, but as our options dwindled, it suddenly seemed like a genius plan.

Armed with blankets, pillows, and enough snacks to feed a small village(because it’s maa ka pyaar), we set up camp under the stars. And you know what? It wasn’t half bad.

Until the local beach dogs decided to join our party, cue the midnight barking, sand everywhere, and a race to save our parathas from hungry paws.

Day 5: The Grand Finale

By the final day, we were all sleep-deprived, sunburned, and possibly suffering from mild cases of food poisoning, fever, and diarrhoea (thanks, sketchy food stalls). But as we sat there watching the sunrise, huddled together like a band of broken travellers, it hit us:

This trip may have been a disaster, but it was “OUR” disaster. And isn’t that what Goa trips are all about? A little chaos, many memories, and a story to tell for years to come.

So, would I plan another Goa trip? Not. But am I glad we went? You bet. If nothing else, it gave me the perfect excuse to never trust Ritu with anything again.

Moral of the story: When life gives you Goa, expect the unexpected—and pack extra Maggi.

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