15 trips to Goa and still so much to uncover. That’s what every visit to Goa is gifting us. One of the most offbeat things to do in Goa – digging these experiences up has become my forte now!

Not just beaches or shacks serving cold King’s beer or dreamy sunsets witnessed from staggering cliffs. Like last time, this trip was also different. I went looking for something Goa keeps hidden. No beach, no casino, no Fontainhas, not the usual shebang that follows Goa’s travel itinerary.    

Instead, I booked a mangrove safari around a hidden islet, which wasn’t Divar. The ride and its views were a surreal reminder of why I fell in love with travel in the first place.

Old Goa isn’t the usual stay choice of tourists scouting for the ‘must-visit’ places. Reason enough for us to camp there. Quiet, heritage-packed pocket that feels worlds away from the neon chaos of Baga or Calangute. With my spouse still on the corporate clock, working nights, it was up to me to choose an experience that not only wows him but also helps him de-stress from his usual grind.

On a laid-back afternoon that was supposed to be his day off, I urged him to trust my choice (which he always does but when it comes to Goa, the general narrative is ‘too crowded’) and drive.

Instead of heading to the coast, we drove to the Old Goa Ferry Terminal. There’s something about a state-run ferry that immediately resets your pace. Just locals heading home, a few two-wheelers, and the wide Mandovi River stretching ahead. For only 7 rupees, only ‘cause we were ferrying in a car, it’s a steal.

We crossed over to Piedade Ferry Terminal in Divar. Lovely, green, peaceful, dotted with Portuguese-era mansions Divar wasn’t our destination. It was just the doorway.

From Piedade, we drove to Mercure Goa Devaaya Resort as advised by Akshay (a member of the mangrove touring party) that was about eight minutes of winding through quiet lanes, past coconut groves and sleepy villages. The air smelled of salt and humidity. It had already started pouring in parts of Goa and wet earth. The kind of smell that makes you roll down the window and just breathe.

At Ambol Ferry Terminal, we were picked up by Amrut Volvoikar. A resident of the hidden islet we were about to explore Amrut was not a tour guide from a glossy brochure. Not someone who memorized a script. Just a local who grew up in those mangroves, knew every root by name, and has the kind of quiet confidence that comes from spending a lifetime in a space.

He smiled, pointed to a small boat, and said, “Ready?”. We nodded – yes.

We set off from Ambol Ferry Terminal, cutting through the backwaters around an islet that most tourists don’t even know exists. A little off the map, it’s Vanxim.

It as an eighter-seater boat, small. As Amrut navigated by memory, the physiology of the mangroves became clearer. Outlining the islet, mangroves were everywhere. Tall, their twisted roots rising from the water like ancient fingers holding the shore together. The engine cut to a low hum but never completely halting, we were learning about the flora and fauna of the estuarine ecosystem. Before long we were slowing down beside the most intriguing spot – I’ll come to that later (can’t let go off the mystery)

Our first sighting was unassuming but oddly profound. A heron stood motionless at the water’s edge, eyes fixed on something beneath the surface. Then, a strike and miss. I had my eyes peeled, watching him/her like a hawk, waiting for its next move. While the heron, craning its neck, acutely observed the water surface for its next prey. As the boat drifted away with the current, I rotated by neck as much as I could before the heron left my vision, it was still watching, determined, unwilling to give up. Nature doesn’t rush teaching perseverance.

Steering the boat cautiously and away from the mangrove roots to avoid damaging it, Amrut pointed out different types of mangroves. Some with pencil-like roots shooting up from the mud. Others with sprawling, knotted bases that looked like they’d been there for centuries. Amrut mentioned there are 16 species of mangroves in Goa but the ones we encountered are:

Sonneratia species – two varieties found in Goa are Mangrove Apple and Crabapple Mangrove. They can be differentiated by their flowers.

Kandelia species – Represented exclusively by Kandelia candel – the Narrow‑Leaved Kandeliam this true mangrove claims the estuaries of the Divar-Vanshi and the shores of Chorao as its own. It is a tree that performs a quiet miracle: vivipary. Its seeds, still clinging to the parent branch, grow into long, candle‑like pods, some stretching up to 40 cms, before releasing themselves to the tide. These floating green wicks drift for weeks, even months, riding the saltwater currents. They do not wait for the water to recede, all they need is a host to attach itself. Or they settle into the mud after they are pushed ashore, pointed ends finding anchor, or bodies curving upward toward the light, as if the tree itself remembers how to rise.

Excoecaria species – The Milky Mangrove wears its danger on its surface. A caustic, milky‑white sap that runs through bark and leaf, capable of stealing sight with a single splash. The reason it has earned the ominous name of Blind-Your-Eye.  A simple warning. Even its dried leaves carry poison, and indigenous fishers once used them to stun fish. Yet nature finds a way. The Mangrove Jewel Bug feeds exclusively on this toxic tree, immune to its defense. And in a twist that only folklore could write, the same sap that burns is also said to heal, used in remedies for rheumatism, ulcers, and the sting of the sea (indigenous remedy).

Heritiera species – This is the famous Sundari tree that monikered the island of Sundarbans. Although rare Sundari trees are found in Ilha de Capão (officially Vanxim) and Chorao island in Goa. Their unique feature remains there anti-gravity roots called pneumatophores. Anti-gravity because the roots don’t grow underground or underwater, but aerial roots that grow upward out of waterlogged or oxygen-poor soils.

Then came a patch that looked harvested. Although an impossible feat. Who would sow seeds in the middle of a sedimented fragmented, that’s home to Bid Daddy. Amrut mysteriously asked “Guess what that is”. Although it looked familiar, I wanted to sound fancy so called out, “Lantana”. From behind my spouse hazarded his guess, “It looks like rice”. Amrut smile “You are right, it is wild rice. No one knows how but it has started growing here. One of the research scientists had come, taken samples and concluded that”. This left me smiling. Wondrous nature and its secrets. On my previous wild nature encounters, I had the opportunity to spot wild ginger and turmeric that are usually found naturally occurring in many forest ecosystems, but wild rice was new.

Simple growing, untended, unapologetic, in the middle of the brackish backwaters without farmers, pesticides or permission. It was nature’s own farm, thriving exactly where it wanted to.

Not long after he whispered, “Can you see him? That’s Big Daddy”. Having learned from my academic experience that excitement and screams are a big non-no when it comes to spotting wildlife. So, despite not being able to spot the big marsh crawler I quietly shook my head – no, I hadn’t. Without stopping the engine, he pointed. I followed his finger. I laid my eyes on the largest Indian Magar that’s inhabits those marshlands. That was the first sighting.

Soon we sighted two more – an adolescent and a medium-sized one. The adolescent ‘gaping’ (they keep their jaws wide open to regulate their body temperature. They are cold-blooded, lacking sweat glands. It’s their way to cool themselves allowing the heat to escape). The medium one whose name I missed looked like it was living a fine susegad life! Mouth slightly open, eyes half-closed, it knew of our presence but didn’t care.

On one occasion Amrut steadily steered the boat a little closer to land without disturbing the peace of the inhabitants where I got a peak of what looked like raised brick barriers. Looking ancient and crumbling in most sections I didn’t think much of it. Until our guide pointed and told us those are the Khazan lands. Clueless, we turned to him for an explanation. He explained Khazan is a traditional farming system of Goa where the land is reclaimed from mangrove forests. With major emphasis on agriculture, this is an integrated system consisting of dykes, sluice gates and poims. A system that has long been used to protect agricultural fields and villages from tidal influx through its integrated system. He concluded with a heavy heart that Khazan farming is still undertaken but only the indigenous communities but no one maintains the bunds that constructed with the alluvial (that I presumed to be bricks). As we bobbed away with the gentle waves all I could pray was the traditional methods trend back. That’s the only way the land and its surrounding areas can be saved.

This is the Goa nobody photographs. But it’s the Goa that keeps the rest of it alive.

After a while we glided towards the ingenuity of the traditional water management system – sluice gates (manos in Konkani). Ancient engineering that still works!

The manos regulate water flow between the fields and the river. Built centuries ago, into bundhs, they act as one-way valves dependent on the tides. During high tide in the river, the gates automatically open and allow nutrient rich estuarine waters along with fish and prawn spawns inside the fields. As the river tide recedes the wooden gates automatically shut due to the pressure on the farm side, preventing the fields from flooding but trapping the fishes inside the inland pools. These sluice gates don’t just help in agriculture but in aquaculture too. All this is maintained by local knowledge. The kind of thing you overlook without realizing, though they are what hold the island together.

His passion for his land was refreshing. A connection that’s absent in most of us these days. I was trying to make a mental note of everything that he was narrating, when something flew past and landed in the mudflat ahead. The fluttering feathers distracted me, but curiosity got the better of me. I asked what that was.  “It’s the lesser Adjutant stork”, he replied in a matter-of-fact manner. Bald with a massive wedge-shaped yellowish bill, it looked like a grumpy grandmother, waiting to scoop something living from beneath the water surface. It was back home that I researched and found it is categorized as ‘Near Threatened’ under IUCN list and spotting it is rare! Well, I thanked my stars, I was lucky.

Not long after, the boat curved around the shoreline, the tour coming to an end, something sublime caught my eye. Against the grey sky, surrounded by the dense grove of slender coconut trees interspersed with mosaics of olive and emerald short canopies that look like wild growth from afar but actually mangroves, rose traditional houses with sloping terracotta roofs built to withstand heavy monsoon by allowing the water to run off quickly. Not often you get to see such a rustic setting in a place that’s slowly filling itself with urban culture.

Up ahead, between the Divar and Vanshi ferry way was a solitary cross, right in the middle of the Mandovi. It was erected by the villagers, in memory of Dr. Louis Cabral, who is said to have drowned at that spot when his canoe flipped. He was attending a medical call from the island that turned into his final voyage.

After the safari, as we drifted back toward Ambol Ferry Terminal, I wondered why more people don’t know about this place.

And that’s the truth, isn’t it? Most of us go to Goa with a checklist. Beaches, sunsets, seafood. Maybe a spice plantation if we’re feeling adventurous. We don’t ask about mangroves. We don’t ask about Kazan lands. We don’t ask about the sluice gates that have managed water for centuries.

But they’re there. And they’re extraordinary. This was my 15th time in Goa. And I feel like I’m just getting started.

You can either book through the Goasay website or call them directly on +91 08010568454

Reach Ambol Ferry Terminal via Old Goa → Cross over to Piedade Ferry in Divar → drive to Mercure Devaaya Resort → You will be picked up there

November to March when it is cooler and drier.

What to bring: Sunscreen, hat, water, cash for Amrut. You can also pay with UPI

Visit Bom Jesus & Other Churches which are a part of the UNESCO Heritage List.

Explore Divar Island

Drive to Mapusa on a Friday to get a glimpse of the local produce.

Drop in at St. Cajetan Church to marvel its architecture.

That week in Goa we relished Goan delicacies like never before. Here’s sharing the list and dishes we tried

• Kingfish Thali – Okay-ish (for the fried piece but rest of the items on the thali YAY)
• Feni with Limca, salt and chilli – good
• Kismoor – good

• Serradura
• Pateis de Nata
• Pinag

• Lepo Thali – Great
• Mankyo (squids) – Great
• Tisrye (Clams) – Great

Bebinca – Yum (no eggy smell detected)

• Chicken cutlet Poi – Yum
• Ros Omlette – Yum

• Kingfish Thali – Great
• Chonak Thali – Great
• Kokum with Soda – Yum

• Chonak Thali
• Modso Thali  

• Prawn Thali
• Kingfish Thali
• Urak with fresh pineapple & orange juice

• Madeleine – Okay-ish     
• Sticky Toffee Pudding – Okay-ish

P.S. – Madeleine wasn’t warmed before serving and pudding too sweet for my taste but the grains of salt added a background flavour. Other items could be better

Cutlet Poi – Yum

Alsana Mix – Good

Batat Kapa – Good

Mirchi – Good

Patalmix – Good

Patal Bhaji – Good

Goan Thali  

Sashtikar’s Chicken Recheado Bread

O’poder Signature Chicken Cafreal Bread

Special Chicken Thali   

Sevya Kheer

We ordered a lot. Fortunately, all the freshly baked items were finger-licking good. But avoid buying items from the adjacent room where they keep items for sale. They aren’t fresh and tasted stale.

The ideal season is November to April when the weather is pleasant and migratory birds are active. Early mornings and late afternoons offer the best wildlife spotting (otters, crocodiles, kingfishers) and stunning sunsets. But we went end of May and still spotted few birds and marsh crocodiles.

Two main options exist:

Kayaking Tours: Paddle through narrow mangrove channels in calm backwaters (Sal River, Chapora River, or near Candolim). Suitable for beginners, lasting 1.5–2 hours

Boat Safaris: Motorized speedboat rides (45 mins–2 hours) through larger estuarine areas like the Cumbarjua Canal, ideal for crocodile spotting and birdwatching.

Expect to see mugger crocodiles basking on muddy banks, over 70 bird species (kingfishers, herons, egrets, brahminy kites), playful otters, mudskippers, and crabs.

Wear comfortable quick-dry clothing, swimwear, and sturdy footwear. Pack sunscreen, a hat, sunglasses, insect repellent, and a waterproof camera for photos.

Cancellation policies vary. You can check with the operators for personal or weather-related cancellations.

It might be mundane to keep scrolling about hidden places that eventually turn into just another spot that’s a crowd pleaser. I want to be different. Focused on highlighting offbeat things to do in Goa and bringing forth local experiences that should be navigated with mindfulness and caution. If you are a traveller looking for something more immersive then you must check the 4-day off-grid South Goa itinerary and thank me later. I will be waiting😉