School Trip to DiU

• Mon,27 Oct 2025

Riding the Waves of Diu

(School Trip to DiU, 14 October _ 19 October)

I’ve seen plenty of sand across Rajasthan, but this time, the sand met the sea and somehow, it felt like the two had always been waiting for each other. The air smelled salty, the wind was cool, and I could already tell this trip was going to feel different.

The bus ride to Diu was long, and I slept through most of it, waking up here and there to see my friends laughing or sharing snacks. It felt a little like drifting on calm water — quiet, with small bursts of life around. By the time we reached the hotel, though, the waves picked up. The pool became our first splash of excitement, and soon everyone, including me, was in the water. That was when the trip really began.

The next morning, we went to the Diu Fort, standing tall like a rock that had watched the sea for centuries. From the top, I could see the waves curling against the walls below : steady, patient, endless. Then we went to St. Paul’s Church, which felt completely different. It was calm, filled with soft light that made everything look peaceful. I stood there quietly, just taking it in.

After lunch, we went to Nagao Beach. None of us planned to get in the water, but the waves had other ideas. One by one, everyone started stepping in, and before we knew it, even the teachers were laughing with us. It felt like the sea itself was pulling us in, asking us to stop thinking and just enjoy. That unexpected hour — soaked clothes, messy hair, and all became one of my favourite memories. Later, we went to the Chopati for food, and I remember sitting there with wet feet, sand everywhere, and the sound of waves mixing with laughter. It was a simple moment, but it felt perfect.

The next day carried a different kind of rhythm. We went to the Gangeshwar Temple, where the waves touched the shivlings again and again, almost like they were offering their own prayers. Then to the Khukri War Memorial and the INS Khukri ship, where I thought about how strong people must be to face storms that don’t always come from the sea. After lunch, we headed to Ghogla Beach, soft and golden, the kind of place where time slows down. We ran into the water, tried water sports, and just laughed until our voices faded into the wind. The DJ night later was like one last high tide — full of noise, lights, and energy… before everything went quiet again.

Before leaving, we went to the Fudam Bird Sanctuary, where the water stood still for once. Watching the birds glide over it felt like the calm after the waves. On our way back, we stopped at the Somnath Temple, standing peaceful and bright, like a shore waiting for the tide to return.

When I finally got home, I realised how much I’d carried back — not seashells or sand, but moments. The trip had felt like riding the waves: sometimes calm, sometimes wild, but always beautiful.