There are few things in life as exhilarating as ticking off a long-cherished dream. For car enthusiasts and travel lovers, one such fantasy is the open-top road trip to Goa — wind in your hair, music in the air, and endless corners. As automotive journalists, we’re fortunate to experience many extraordinary drives, but this one was special. It wasn’t just about the car or the destination; it was about fulfilling a fantasy that Bollywood had etched into our minds over two decades ago — the iconic ‘Dil Chahta Hai’ road trip.
For generations, Goa has been synonymous with carefree holidays, beachside revelry, and scenic drives, and there’s something magical about experiencing it in a convertible. The ability to smell the sea breeze, feel the sun on your skin, and hear the sounds of the coast transforms the journey into something visceral. The CLE 300 Cabriolet, with its fabric roof, plush interiors, and powerful 2-litre turbo-petrol engine, was the ideal companion. Unlike hardcore sports cars, it’s designed for comfort — perfect for long highway stretches and lazy coastal cruises. And yet, when the road gets twisty, it hugs the tarmac with the poise of a true Mercedes.
We set off from Pune at dawn, the city slowly waking up as we hit the Mumbai-Goa Highway. The first order of business? Lowering the roof. The CLE’s fabric top retracts in a beautifully orchestrated 20-second ballet — the windows drop slightly, the cover lifts, and the roof folds neatly into the boot. The best part? You can do this while driving (up to 60 kph), making for some dramatic moments as bystanders gawk at the transformation. With the Burmester sound system playing a curated playlist (a mix of some new age tropical house and classic road trip anthems), we settled into the drive. The speakers integrated into the rear deck ensured that even with the roof down, the music remained crisp —no need to blast it at ear-splitting volumes.
The real fun began as we approached the Anuskura Ghat — one of the most scenic and well-paved routes into Goa. Unlike the busier Amboli or Chorla Ghats, this stretch offers sweeping curves, minimal traffic, and breathtaking vistas. With the top down, the experience was that much more immersive. The cool air around the hills and the thrill of carving up each corner (and hearing that turbo noise from the engine upon hard acceleration) made it unforgettable. The CLE’s suspension kept the ride composed, while the turbocharged engine provided effortless overtaking power.
As we descended toward the coast, the landscape shifted — thick forests gave way to coconut groves, and the salty tang of the sea crept into the air. The sense of anticipation was electric — Goa was just around the corner. We rolled into North Goa as the sun dipped low, casting a golden hue over paddy fields and 3ortuguese villas. The CLE, with its low-slung stance and gleaming paintwork, looked right at home — this was a car built for slow, stylish cruising. We headed straight to a beachside shack (as one does in Goa). Parking the CLE with its top down drew a hundred glances — convertibles are still a rarity in India, and in Goa, they’re the ultimate Á ex. Over grilled prawns and chilled beer, we watched the waves crash, the Burmester system softly playing ‘Tanhayee’ from Dil Chahta Hai — a fitting tribute to the trip’s inspiration.
The next morning, we met Pablo, our editor and full-time Goa resident, who took the wheel. His first move? Dropping the roof immediately. ‘You don’t drive a convertible with the top up in Goa,’ he grinned. We made our first stop at a 17th-century church, its whitewashed walls and Baroque architecture contrasting beautifully with the CLE’s modern curves. A few tourists asked to take pictures with the car — proof that a Mercedes convertible turns heads. 1ext, we meandered through narrow Goan lanes, past colourful houses, coconut vendors, and sleepy stray dogs. The CLE’s compact dimensions (for a Merc) made it surprisingly easy to navigate the narrow roads. The grand finale? A hidden promenade overlooking the sea, where we parked as the sky exploded into pinks and oranges. The CLE, with its top down and its silhouette framed against the sunset, looked like something out of a car commercial — or a Bollywood film.
No discussion of Goa road trips in a Mercedes convertible is complete without acknowledging Farhan Akhtar’s cult classic. For millennials, that fi lm wasn’t just a movie — it was a blueprint for adventure. Remember Akash and his pals cruising in his Mercedes SL? The carefree drives along Chapora Fort? The sunset scenes with the sea in the background? That was the visual language of freedom for an entire generation. Driving the CLE 300 Cabriolet, it felt like we were living those moments. The car, though more refined than the early-2000s SL, had the same spirit of luxury and rebellion. And just like in the movie, it wasn’t about speed — it was about slowing down time.
All good things must end, and as we left Goa, nature decided to test the CLE’s all-weather credentials. From Karad to Satara, we were met with torrential rain — an oddity in peak summer. For a moment, I worried about the fabric roof, but the CLE proved its worth — not a single leak, just the soothing sound of rain pelting the soft top. The wipers worked overtime, but the cabin remained a quiet, dry cocoon.
By the time we reached Pune, the car was splattered in mud, a small price to pay for the adventure. As I stepped out, I glanced back at the car — the CLE looked every bit the road warrior, having conquered highways, ghats, and Goan beaches with equal ease. If you’ve ever dreamed of driving to Goa in a convertible, do it. Whether it’s in a Merc or a more modest drop-top, the feeling of freedom is hard to beat. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find your own ‘Dil Chahta Hai’ moment along the way. As for me, I’ll be rewatching the movie tonight — and planning the next road trip.
