As a solo female traveller, I’ll admit I’ve had some concerns about safety when exploring India’s more remote corners by public transport. That’s why I was elated to discover the new all-female taxi service shuttling between the spiritual hub of Tiruvannamalai and the beach paradises of Goa. With the opportunity to split costs with other wanderlust-filled womxn, an experienced female driver at the helm, and built-in bestie bonding sessions, I knew this was an adventure I couldn’t miss.
The morning my bright pink taxi arrived in Tiruvannamalai, I felt like a stuck-in-traffic Barbie finally being freed from her dreamhouse. The cheerful vehicle practically vibrated with girl power energy as four of us solo voyagers tossed our backpacks and optimistic spirits into the spacious cabin. Our driver for the journey, introduced as Meena, greeted us with a warm smile and traveller’s wisdom sparkling in her eyes.
As she masterfully navigated us through Tiruvannamalai’s narrow laneways, Meena shared how she had grown up in these very streets before catching the travel bug and crisscrossing the Indian countryside as a taxi driver over the past decade. This all-female taxi service was her brainchild, created to provide a safe, fun environment for womxn to explore while swapping stories, life advice, and possibly forging lifelong friendships along the way.
Sure, we could have flown or trained it to our destination, but as my new car pals and I chatted over maps and trail mix, we knew this deliberately slow journey was the only way to truly soak in India’s raw beauty. Our first glimpse arrived just an hour outside of Tiruvannamalai at the ancient shore temples of Mamallapuram. As Meena unfolded her sinewy limbs from the driver’s seat to join us, I couldn’t help but admire her lithe strength and confidence maneuvering through these archaeological wonders. Under her guidance, we marveled at the intricately carved stone chariots, monolithic shrinelike structures, and caves adorned with remarkably preserved reliefs. My typically rushed travels suddenly took on a blissful, unhurried cadence.
From then on, the fun never stopped. We made frequent snack and stretch stops, where Meena and my car crew would pick up freshly fried vadas, pačthuriċe and salty banana chips to keep our banter and laughter fueled. At one particularly scenic viewpoint, Meena even led us in an impromptu dance session, showing off moves I knew I’d never be able to replicate with her athletic finesse but attempting with vigor nonetheless as we cackled and shimmied.
When evening settled across the highway, we didn’t retreat to a soulless hotel but opted to make our way towards the bohemian beach township of Gokarna, known for its striking red cliffs, hidden coves, and relaxed vibe. As we pulled into our cheery beachside cottage in the gathering twilight, Meena waggled her eyebrows and promised an evening of costal revelry unlike any other.
And revel we did. After polishing off a sizzling seafood dinner by the waves, we eagerly followed Meena out onto Gokarna’s main drag to join the nightly celebrations. Clutches of hippies and yoga nomads had congregated on the beach around raging bonfires, jamming to the rhythms of hand drums and bongos amid swirling plumes of fragrant smoke and hysterical laughter. Emboldened by Meena’s infectious spirit, we didn’t simply spectate but abandoning our shyness and inhibitions to join the festivities. We danced with wild abandonment until our feet throbbed, sipped salted mango lassis from beachside huts, and had our hearts filled with warmth and revelry.
When we at last collapsed into our cottage bunks well past midnight, my body pulsed with magic, sore but gloriously alive from the day’s adventures. We had traveled only a few hours’ distance but experienced multiple lifetimes worth of rich moments and spirit awakenings.
Over the next two days, Meena helped us slow down and soak in Gokarna’s myriad charms. We kayaked alongside towering ruddy boulders into remote coves where we could skinny-dip in private tranquility. We cycled languid beach trails, stopping to examine washed-up shells and exotic blooms. We sampled South Indian delicacies at hole-in-the-wall eateries and browsed handicrafts from Goan to Gujarati traders stationed along the promenade. Not once did I worry about my safety, thanks to the protective embrace of my co-traveller community and ever-watchful Meena.
When it came time to continue our journey to Goa, we all felt gloriously windswept yet rejuvenated from our Gokarna interlude. The next leg passed in a kaleidoscope of snacks, raucous singalongs over the stereo, and deep bonding over dreams and past journeys. Meena was a consummate vibe captain, ensuring our energy levels soared while regaling us with insider tips and highlighting must-see spots across the lush Western Ghats and pristine beaches of the Konkan coast.
At last, we crested that final hill and glimpsed the beckoning Arabian Sea on Goa’s shores. Whipping out the cameras and hoisting our arms in riotous cheers, we had arrived at the culmination of this epic girls’ road trip feeling like true warriors, sisters, and unstoppable forces.
Over ice-cold Kingfishers and crisp curry platters at a Goan beach shack, we tallied up the five-day journey. The fare for transport, accommodation, meals and curated stops? Just 10,000 rupees per person – less than the cost of flights and hotel packages yet infinitely richer in spirit. As we watched the sunset blaze across the Arabian Sea, we knew we had experienced something unforgettable and invaluable: the freedom to revel in India’s boundless riches at our own pace while forging bonds with phenomenal new friends.
So throw off the shackles of prescribed travel packages and uptight tours. Join the gloriously freewheeling womxn boldly exploring this country’s countless enchantments through a empowered, curated, and affordable new lens. Who knows where the road will lead us next?