Day 186. Little Vagator, Goa. Slippery cow.

The Portuguese knew they were onto something special when they colonised Goa all those year ago. In fact, so keen were they to repel marauding Muslims and Maratha warriors that they built a string of hilltop forts along the coast.

We visited one of the more intact examples today at the mouth of the Chapora river. A pile of rubble really, but the views across the estuary made clambering across what's left of the ramparts worth our while.

Cooled off at a bar in nearby Little Vagator, a seaside town as famed for its small herd of beach cows as it is for its considerably larger herd of drug addled ravers.

Almost a fracas towards the end of the afternoon when Dave and Juliette tried to have their photo taken with one of the more docile cows. This fat pissed-up Indian bloke ran across claiming he was in charge of all culture in the area (and hence, cows) and that all cow photography would have to be channeled through him.

The cow, obviously refusing to recognise fatty's authority, struggled to his feet and walked off into the sunset. Dave wasn't happy, but the spectacle of him and Juliette chasing the beast down towards the sea to get their shot provided some amusement for the rest of us.