Three "forgotten" travel episodes

Goa, India (March 2008)
In Panaji (Goa, India) I stayed the first night in a very nice hotel. The hosts were Portuguese Goan. I had a long conversation with the couple about Goa and Portugal. After the first night, I spent a complete day lying in bed with strong headaches... but I got better quickly. The hotel was good but a bit off the town center, so the next morning I decided to look for an hotel in the center.
Mid-morning, I walked for a long time around town looking at every hotel that I could find (or that was listed in Lonely Planet). I ended up haggling the price of a very cheap room (less than 3 eur per night I believe) with this other Portuguese Goan. His family was interesting, the wife and a 10 year old kid learning portuguese. He was very nice to me before closing the deal. After the check-in, and probably because I took the cheapest room, he became incredible monosilabic with me. I ended up sleeping in a horrible room in a wooden bed making a lot of noise and with a 5cm mattress over it.
Why I am telling this story? Well, during the night a leg of the bed broke completely and I almost fell on the floor. I had to sleep on the floor. The next morning I woke up, payed the bill, "but you were staying 3 nights!", and got a bus to Anjuna, the famous goan beach.

Bali, Indonesia (Jun 2007)
I barely remember the day I became a surfer, lol
I was on the beach renting a surf board. I remember I was surfing with these two guys (or was just one?) I had just met on the beach. They were also learning. I remember we caught the same wave (1m) and, on top of the board, I shouted "HEY!". In a not so synchronized movement, he extended his arm and I could touch his hand for a few seconds, then we almost fell one over the other. After the crash, we both gave the hang loose sign and shouted "yeah!!!!". I was now a surfer, lol
I don't remember my surf mate's face, name or nationality!

Uspallata, Argentina (Dez 2007)
The scenery here are the most incredible mountains I have ever seen. Uspallata is a small town in the Andes between Argentina and Chile. The story is short, a cozy hotel where I could relax and enjoy the mountains after a very active stay in Mendonza (I have a post about the Intriga Mendocina).
This is not really a story, but rather an insight description. Well, I could tell you about the large group of very young nouns (like 17 years old) that were praying out loud while the bus was going down an amazing cliff through a road with dozens of hair pin turns...
Back in Uspallata, I was walking up the road with the unbelievable scenario on my eyes, I started singing Mano Chao... the mountains, the wonderfull meal in a simple road restaurant I just had, the empty road, the hot asphalt, the frontier between Argentina and Chile just there, 4000m altitude or so, a backpack, three months of continuous lonely travelling, me absolutely alone in the carretera, my fate and the fate of the emigrants manu chao sings about, el viento... por la carretera...