Goan Holiday

---

As part of my visit to India, Priya insisted that I visit Goa, the former Portugese colony on the Arabian sea that is now a beach resort with an international reputation. I've read the story somewhere on the web, but basically, after Portugal returned Goa to India in the early 1960's, a vibrant bohemian culture developed out of the remaining Portugese, various other westerners drawn to the tropical paradise, and the native Goan Indian population (most of whom converted/were converted to Catholicism under the Portugese). This cultural mix, the beautiful scenery and the tropical climate gave birth to an easygoing way of life and an interesting musical tradition blending eastern and western music. Goa gradually became a destination for people, westerners and Indians, looking for a relaxed beach holiday (much as we view the Caribbean in the US). Sometime (in the late 80's I think), a new mutation of Goan music appeared: Goa trance. Goa trance is a kind of dance music which has a heavy driving beat, a simple thick bassline, and a beautiful melody that floats above the rhythm section. Goa trance does not have vocals or lyrics - it is intended to hypnotize dancers into a state of dancefloor euphoria. It became popular in the "shacks" - small thatched roof shed that house bars that line the beaches in Goa - for all-night dancing in the cool breeze blowing in off of the ocean. As Goa was a popular destination for European tourists, word of this music made it back to club-happy England, and in the early 90's a popular British DJ named Paul Oakenfold visited Goa and soaked up Goa trance. He returned to England and played a set of this music on a popular radio show, and it blew everyone away. Trance music had developed in other places, but Goa trance was special for it's beauty and minimalism. It is now very popular all over the world, and any fan of dance music knows what Goa Trance is, even if they don't know where or what Goa is. I've known about Goa music and Goa the place for a long time, so I was quite excited about the visit.

We arrived at Hyderabad airport at about 11 for our 12:30 flight to Goa. My only experience with Indian airports so far was my arrival, which was an unbelievably disorganized affair. Checking in for a domestic flight was much better, although not nearly as regimented as you see in the US. We made it through security with no problem (separate lines for men and women, since they pass a wand over you) and boarded our Air Deccan flight. After takeoff, the brown cloud of pollution over Hyderabad became very obvious. The air doesn't seem too bad on the ground, but all of that soot belched out by truck, busses, autorickshaws, and everything else has to go somewhere. After a few minutes of flying , we were beyond the suburbs of Hyderabad and I had a birds-eye view of rural India. Under our flightpath, the land was almost all in agricultural use, but it looked quite different than agricultural land. Many fields were small and irregularly shaped, which leads me to believe that they are worked manually rather than by tractors. Another very obvious feature that there were not roads and houses spread all over the place as in the US. Here, villages are very tight collections of irregularly adjoined white houses surrounded by fields.

The flight was short, only one hour and 30 minutes. Unfortunately, once on the ground we waited an additional 30 minutes on the airplane because of some sort of airplane traffice jam (familiar to anyone who has passed through LaGuardia). The thing is, Goa has a tiny airport, so my guess is that the traffic jam was a result of disorganization more than traffic. Finally, we made it off the airplane and collected our bags in the tiny Goan terminal.

Priya had arranged with a friend of hers for us to stay in that friend's family home in Goa, which they rarely used since they moved to Bangalore. A driver sent by the family met us at the airport and we were soon on our way. We started off on a large, smooth, paved road, but probably 500 yards from the airport, we turned on to a dirt road that looked as if it had been improvised by drivers wanting to cut through a field. That road led to a single lane poorly paved road that wound through steep hillsides covered with thick vegetation. Encountering an oncoming vehicle required moving over into the vegetation. With brief interludes of well-paved, wide roads, we spent the next hour on these tiny, poorly paved roads.

When we arrived at the house where we were to stay, something seemed fishy. First of all, there were a lot of people around, children playing and people sitting on the porch. This seemed odd because the family had told us the house was vacant. What we soon discovered was that since the family rarely visited the house, the caretaker had decided to make some extra money renting it out to visitors to Goa. The caretaker was very shifty and did a lot of talking (in Hindi) and looking at the ground. What I found out later was that he was apologizing for not having room for us and pleading that we not tell the family that he was renting the place out. After our flight, our waiting on the ground, and our motion-sickness inducing ride in, we were not pleased to discover that we had no place to stay. We loaded our things back into the car and had the driver take us to a restuarant where we could come up with a plan B. Several calls were made to peoples' distant friend with any connection to Goa, but we came up empty handed. After our meal, we loaded back into the car and set out to find a place to stay.

It was hot, we were tired, and the traffic on Goa's poorly-developed roads was horrible. After about 5 hours, we finally found a dive that had enough rooms for us and we unloaded the taxi and were very happy to not be in the car anymore. By this time, I was feeling like I had a cold, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I don't remember eating dinner... I just crashed on the uncomfortable bed and slept until the morning. In the morning, I discovered that the toilet didn't flush and there was no hot water. When I met the rest of the party, we all agreed that we couldn't stay in this hotel another night, so we loaded our things back into a car and set out again to find a place. We spent another 5 or 6 hours driving around (my cold now hitting with full force) and finally found a nice hotel - the Colonia Santa Maria - on Baga beach. It was somewhat expensive, but had hot water, an American-style shower, and was right on the beach. I was quite sick at this point, and I needed this place.


Baga Beach

We settled in and I rested a bit. Later in the afternoon, I felt well enough to venture out to the beach - after half of our time spent in Goa had passed without setting foot on the beach, I finally got to see it. Baga beach is one of the more developed beaches, but it isn't spoiled. The beach is wide, with shacks forming a palisade along the dunes.



The Church of St. Francis of Assisi in Old Goa, with the Se Cathedral in the background



By this time, one of Priya's friends had made contact with a friend of hers, a native Goan named Ron. Ron came to pick us up and took us to see Old Goa, the heart of the old Portugese colony. I was fascinated to see the old churches, oddly Italian-looking (complete with latin inscriptions) sitting right in the middle of India. The churches were huge, giving an idea of the former population of the city (estimated to be around 200,000). My travel book tells me that Goa was once called "Rome of the East". Now though, there appears to be little but the churches in Old Goa. What was probably the dense, central part of the city is a forest of palms and tropical vegetation. There are crumbling walls of old villas, and a few ruined Portugese mansions visible from the street. It seems that everyone in Goa now lives near the beaches.



The Basilica Bom Jesus in Old Goa



Our Lady of the Mont in Old Goa





After Old Goa, Ron took us back to CSM. I was feeling quite sick, so I turned in, while the others went to enjoy the beach and famous Goan nightlife.

The next day, I woke up early, feeling much better. The plan for the day was to go to the weekly flea market at Anjuna beach, and to find a calm place and to enjoy the beach. None of us wanted to spend another day in the car. The flea market was interesting. I got used to hearing "Hello, friend! Come in my shop! Very nice, very cheap!" and being tugged by the arm in several directions. My Indian companions wanted to do some shopping, so I stayed out of sight as much as possible so they could pay the Indian price, not the inflated western price. Standing out in the sun, I decided I needed to buy a long-sleeved kurta to keep the sun off of me, so I asked Priya to bargain for one. She went up to a vender and asked the price of a white one. Rs 150 the guy said. Then I appeared, and all of the sudden the price changed to Rs 200, and the vender became irritated. After some bargaining in Hindi, he reluctantly sold it for Rs 100. The flea market was swarming with westerners, and I bet a bunch of them were gettin ripped off. I was happy to have my Indian friends along to help with the bargaining. In addition to the kurta, I bought a few "Goa trance" CD's, and an "Om" t-shirt (the sure mark of a Goan tourist!).


Anjuna Flea Market


After the flea market, we headed to a nice shack on Anjuna beach, where I drank a Kingfisher beer, the local favorite. We sat in the shack for a few hours, finally enjoying ourselves in Goa, listening to the sea and watching the waves roll in. With 24 hours left in Goa, I began to appreciate why this place was such a popular resort.


After a few hours in the shack, my companions wanted to go to a different beach for some "water sports" (i.e., riding a waverunner), so we headed to Aguada beach. I didn't want to risk getting hurt on a waverunner, so Priya and I went to explore the imposing Fort Aguada. The fort guards the entrance into the bay of Old Goa.

From a bastion of the fort, I was able for the first time to watch the sun set over the Arabian sea, my one wish for my time in Goa. Unfortunately, it was somewhat hazy, and the sun set behind an enormous cargo-crane ship, but it was beautiful nonetheless.


Sunset at Fort Aguada


That night, my companions again headed out to the clubs, but I wanted to sleep well that night to hopefully kick my cold. Before turning in, though, I headed to the beach to record the sound of the beach in Goa - waves crashing while Goa trance plays from the shacks. You can hear the recording here.

The next day, we packed up, ate a nice breakfast at the CSM (surrounded by British and Austrailian tourists), and repeated the harrowing ride to the airport. I have to admit that I was very happy to make it back to Hyderabad. Goa is a beautiful place, but our visit was too stressful.

---