Holiday in Goa

GOING NORTH - Agonda (A) to Anjuna(B) to Arambol (C)

It was with a tinge of sadness that we dragged ourselves away from the beauty and tranquillity of Agonda. But it was time to move on and explore the other faces of Goa. We took a taxi from Agonda to Anjuna (Rs1500) because the fare to the train station in Margao was Rs800 and then the tickets and taxi on the other side would have ended up being almost as much for twice the time and hassle. The mission was to find a nice place for Alison’s arrival and somewhere to see in the New Year. And apparently Anjuna was where the party was… not sure if that was a good or bad thing.

What I find interesting is how each beach has its’ own scene. I suppose over the years these communities have evolved and the tourism moulded itself to the requirements of the differing types of visitors. So each beach has such a distinctly different ambience. South Goa is still much less developed than North where there are long established communities as the hippy traveller scene started there nearly have a century ago.

Agonda is a long curved strip of white sand with huts and mellow oceanfront restaurants constructed just for the season dotted up the beach and not much else. Although mixed, it is definitely slightly older, primarily Europeans, there to escape the crowds. Some people seemed pretty settled in their houses or huts on the beach and you imagine they are there for the winter.

We had taken a couple of visits to Palolem (half an hour on a scooter – Rs200 for the night) which seemed so built up and lively compared to Agonda but is actually still relatively small. There is strip of main road leading up to the beach with shops selling fabrics, clothes, shoes, jewellery and the general Indian stuff that is everywhere, all the shops replicas of one another. On the beach itself the restaurants are actually buildings (as opposed to the bamboo and wicker seasonal constructions of Agonda) and there were candlelit tables set up on the sand. During the day you can go out on the boats that line the shore. Promises of dolphins, beaches and beautiful sunsets for only Rs600.

In comparison, Anjuna felt like proper town. There were even traffic jams. Anjuna is a whole other kettle of fish. I am glad to have spent a few days there to get a sense of the place but it was the wrong combination of things for me. Too many people, more hassle, dirtier, more expensive. One thing I did like though was the fact that there were more Indian tourists – rich youngsters from Bombay and Bangalore coming to enjoy the beach and party. It was nice to see young couples escaping to the beach, girls often taking a dip in the ocean fully clothed and big groups of young boys in their briefs splashing about or posing for photos with their phones. You also get more bold-faced stares. The one occasion I went for a dip in the ocean in Anjuna, I was sitting in my bikini, having just come out of the sea and an Indian man just came and took a photo – much in the way I was taking pictures of Indians and in that moment I couldn’t hold it against him as I saw it was not really any different from what I was doing. Marvelling at the cultural differences. Or maybe he was just being pervy. The beach is crowded with rows of deck chairs and scores of burning tourists drinking and listening to all manner of loud music from Cher to old house (not all bad). But the big thing there is Psy Trance (short for psychedelic - which in my ignorance of trance did not know before) and we had the misfortune of finding this out when the nightclub next door to Ocean Pearl, our (what on first sight appeared to be) tranquil oceanside guest house, played exactly that until 5 something in the morning. Apparently they had been going since Christmas and were continuing through New Years Eve. We moved in the morning.

I knew that I didn’t need to spend much more time in Anjuna but we were waiting for Alison and thought it would be nice for her to have a day to settle in so the plan was to head to Arambol for the day to see if we would prefer to relocate for New Year. We rented a motorbike (Rs400) and had an enjoyable ride up the coast. Arambol is another world. Less of a ‘scene’ like Anjuna and more like community. A very hippy community. Yoga, meditation, fire spinners, holistic healing, dreadlocks and aged hippies live in harmony in this sprawling village on the beach. It is actually bigger than it feels but still so mellow compared to Anjuna. And no trance! The beach is very long (about 2km until it merges into Mandrem) and various restaurants have set out small clumps of deck chairs on the sand so you can relax and order food and drinks. Not the row upon row of Anjuna-del-Sol but a handful here, a few there. And lots of space in between. We found suitable huts overlooking the sea and booked them for the New Year, paying for the first night to secure them (Rs700). Went for a dip and then wandered back to the bike and returned to Anjuna as the sun was setting. Mission accomplished.

And now a week later, I’m still in Arambol. Just. We’ve seen in the New Year with a very nice little party at a place called ‘Cocks Town’. Had a few days to chill and explore. Alison is taking a yoga course and has decided she’ll probably spend the remainder of her holiday here and Saurabh left for Mumbai last night, so I am now setting my sights on the next phase. The ‘holiday in Goa’ is nearly over and although it’s been lovely, idyllic and very relaxing, I don’t feel that I have started my journey in India. I can appreciate that one could spend a long time here. It is like a permanent festival. There are various restaurants that have dj’s or live music and so far it seems that the standards have been high. Everyone is relaxed and the atmosphere is open and creative. In fact, I can hardly think of anything that could make it better if that is what you were looking for. I just feel the need to go forth and explore and immerse myself in the madness and magic of India. Soon. Having intermittent wi-fi in my beach hut is certainly a persuading factor that it’s not a bad place for me to spend a few days writing and working – with the sound of the ocean as my soundtrack, although I can also hear some thumping beat not too far off...