if you've had enough of cow poo. enough of being hassed 24-7. enough of diesel fumes and honking. enough of touts. enough of the mazes of alleyways and scabby, mangey stray dogs. enough of the sweltering heat. then you should come here. come to goa.

goa, india. the tiny, former portugese colony on the west coast of the indian subcontinent. beaches run down the 100 or so kilometre shoreline. not just any beaches, but the most beautiful i've ever seen in my life (and i've seen a lot of beaches). take the best of thailand, hong kong, hawaii, those of southern california, croatia, greece and turkey...mix them all up into one, add some hippies, sprinkle on a few beach-cows and beach-dogs and you've got goa.

i've been throughout the province, on my last trip to india, so i thought i'd skip out on southern goa and the bigger cities of panaji, margao and mapusa this time with amanda.

we headed to morjim. a tiny stretch of sand just north of the chapora river, that faces out into the arabian sea. we found a beach hut at the goan cafe, a little shack of bamboo on stilts that faced the sea and spent three nights swimming and suntanning, laying around in hammocks, eating fresh caught, grilled prawns and lobster in lemon-garlic, sipping on feni: the goan liquor of fermented coconut or cashew and staring up into the night sky...thousands of stars, the waves crashing. morjim is fairly low-key on the goan beach circuit. few come here, and there's not much to do other than lie around and swim.

from morjim, we headed south a few kilometres to anjuna, the centre of goa's trance-party scene. we arrived just in time for the huge anjuna wednesday market, where vendors from all over goa gather to sell their wares. everything from tattoo parlours to sarongs, to carvings and masks, sculptures, bed covers, hashpipes and hookahs sit under the sun. it's a maze of stalls, covering a good two or three kilometres square near the southern end of the beach. the same night we ended up drinking in excess and wandering the beach to 'curlie's bar' and playing with the phosphorescence in the waves. bats flew outside our room and sipped on the palm sugar dripping from giant flowers across from our deck, spiders built webs in our bathroom, ants lived off crumbs on the floor.

a few days passed on anjuna and again northwards, past morjim beach to arambol. arambol was once considered "undiscovered" and "the jewel of the north" but these days are long gone. hippies smoke chillim pipes and hash in the restaurants, fire poys spin in the hands of the unexperienced wanderers who come here, israelis on europeans..and russians, drums beat, and children play cricket on the long stretch of white sand the encircles arambol's bay. there's a craggy northern headland that juts out and is lined with shacks selling sarongs and jewellery and the main road to the beach is jam-packed with restaurants and shops. nevertheless, it's beautiful here and quiet, if you can find the silence, and hot. hot hot.

tomorrow we're hopping a bus for the 14 hour overnight ride back to mumbai and then a 12 hour overnight train ride to ahmedabad in gujurat for my cousin's wedding.

Labels: goa, india, travel

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