The Hitch-hiker... And The Bridge

Here in our little Goan village we are spoilt for unspoilt beaches. And the most unspoilt of them lie due south. Last evening we drove down to Talpona and watched a glorious sunset, smoked a mighty spliff, enjoyed some deep conversation, and as it grew dark we took the road back home. I saw a lovely location for The Ludwig von Mises Institute of Catallactics.

Now, there is a small river we have to cross to get to Talpona from where we live. Spanning the river is a short and narrow bridge. The bridge itself is barely 20 metres long, but it is its width that is truly amazing. It is an impossibly narrow bridge. It can barely accommodate our little car. Anything even slightly bigger and wider would have to take the highway, drive another 20-odd km south, and then take the newly laid road to Talpona. The narrow bridge saves over an hour of journey time. But then, no bus can take it.

And so it was that as we approached the bridge, a middle-aged man asked us for a lift. We obliged. And the conversation went something like this:

Hitch-hiker: Thank you so much. It would have taken ages for me to reach the Saturday market at Chaudi if I had to take the bus.

Me: Yeah, you guys need a new bridge.

Hitch-hiker: The government never seems to get around to building it. They have built a huge railway bridge but the road bridge lies neglected.

Me: Bunch of morons. Who takes the train to get to Talpona? There isn’t even a station! How will tourists come here if there is no road bridge? How will the local people get to market?

Hitch-hiker: What do we do? We are tired of pleading our case with the authorities.

Me: I strongly suggest you people get together and raise money to build your own bridge. I will also contribute. I suggest a pontoon bridge, which is cheap. And when the bridge is built the values of all your properties will immediately rise – so the bridge will pay for itself. No loss. Only gain.

Hitch-hiker: Sometimes I too feel there is no point going to the government for anything.

Me: No point at all. The file will go to Panjim, and from there to Delhi – and by the time a decision is taken you would be in the happy hunting grounds. Self-help is the only way out.

Actually, this little enclave in South Goa where we live is a perfect example of the madness of our The State. Here, nature has lavished us with unmatchable beauty. And all that is man-made is ugly – especially The Markets. Chaudi, the central market town, is a shambles. As are the small tourist markets in Palolem and Patnem, the two most popular beaches. All the roads are too narrow – “Goa Constrictors” – and they are laid out in a manner that defies all the laws of road design.

And yet, there is abundant land. And there are lots of lovely beaches. The only solution is a complete overhaul of the roads system, including bridges. All the markets have to be re-designed. Well laid out roads, well laid out markets, and a well laid out central market town – that is my antidote.

This requires local government, based on local knowledge, catering to local concerns and needs. Neither Panjim nor New Delhi can perform this task. Unfortunately, although we do have a municipality, the fact is that it seems to be totally Devoid of Reason. Even at the bottom, our The State is mad.

The only hope lies in local residents taking over the conduct of their own affairs. I hope my hitch-hiking friend spreads the virus. Let us begin with a self-financed pontoon bridge across the Talpona. I am told that these can be built in a few days. So let's just do it. Fast!