The Rise and Fall

The much maligned state of Goa, occupies many parishes in the minds of the footloose traveler.
From it's now mythical heritage of THE Hippy Mecca, it has slowly evolved through many morphosis at a customary Goan pace.
The lazy days of bearded Hippies swinging between palm trees, planning a brighter future in a daze of sun and ganja and eagerly awaiting the imminent arrival of a Rock legend from Rishikesh, put Goa on the radar.
This gradually gave way to the inquisitive backpackers, who though ostensibly on their own quest for personal freedom, high on tales of paradise lost. The newcomers required a little more furniture.......A bed, roof and the most basic; of the now ubiquitous "beach Shack"
These small enterprises sprung up along Goa's northern shores, serving strange fare from distant shores, veg fried rice, chips, veggie burgers and the obligatory pancakes.
As the word spread, the trickle of the late 60's & 70's turned into a stream moving inexorably towards it's course.
Suddenly 'Goa' was the buzz word amongst the traveling fraternity. People talked of places like Anjuna and Calangute with nodding approval. "yeah cool man, the beaches are mazing"
The related memories were punctuated with strange words like Baba, charas and chillums.

Over the 20 years from the late 60's to the nineties, Goa gained a reputation of Nirvana for Hippies, loners, drifter and life's generally unsettled. Here you could find your peace. With a liberal helping of of pure indulgence.

Of course as this coastal revolution gained pace, the hendonistic persuits of the succesive waves of visitors, began to erode the symbiotic relationship between the colourful bourgeoisies and the largely innocent rural population of Goa.
This disintegration of relations probably peaked in the 90's when it was announced that Goa was "the party capital of the world" a soundbite of course but along the length and breadth of the tributaries of travel, the impression took hold. Everyone had to go to Goa.
Inevitably the sight of scantily dressed westerners dancing the sand from Goa's shores, lost in their own personal trip was too much for some. Goa decided to reclaim her shores.
The resulting public outcry,and heavy handed police action, ushered in an era of greed and corruption, which resulted in rancor and distrust between the visitors and local population.
The hospitality and warm friendliness was still apparent but and undercurrent of silent resentment, took hold.
A peaceful symbiosis born of necessity, washed away in a few short years, of mass self indulgence on the part of tourists. Numbers had reached record highs and the proud moral indignation of the local population grew in proportion.
Goan's began to regard this quantum shift in their lifestyles with barely disgused disdain.

The ensuing nexus of public opinion, police reaction and a new found culture of bribery, denoted a new age. The Goa of old was gone.

The party scene which had caused so much concern and anger gradually petered out. No longer was Goa the stomping ground of revellers from around the globe.
A hard core element, tenaciously hung on, in the nooks and crannies around Anjuna and Vagator, the secret brethren of ravers, found more venues in the surrounding countryside and the police still turned an expedient blind eye when financially viable.
To this day the parties are still to be found, over hyped and cashing in on a heady mix of sun, drugs and nostalgia.
They are a pale shadow of what went before, the shine and energy it seems rooted in the tales of how it used to be.
When the coast throbbed to the sound of a thousand feet kicking up a sandstorm lost in the tunes of Goa Gil and a host of other DJ's who just had to "do Goa"

With the advent of mass package tourism and the completion of the arduous Konkan railway project in the nineties, Goa was connected, no longer a virtual island on India's west coast. The trickle became a flood, the strata of tourism changed once more to encompass a new generation of thrill seekers. Some chasing clouds, on the memories of those heady days of the nineties, Goa meant party........Right.
Others were seduced by glossy brochures of sun kissed shores, flanked with coconut tree, and the promise of a taste of India with chips. Fresh faced backpackers simply came to unwind after the dusty days of travel in Rajasthan.
The new generation happily found a passable infrastructure, elaborate cuisine, cheap booze and Premiership soccer on the telly.
Goa was once more on the map, indeed had it ever been away. It now catered for a new demographic of pink 2 week tourists and young road weary backpackers, intent on packing a lot of fun into their stay.
Again Goan's rose to the challenge, scooter hire, internet cafes, karaoke, sun beds and a cuisine of a quality, earlier travelers could only have dreamed of.
At times a kind of business anarchy engulfed the state, with bad planning and copycat ventures threatening to completely unbalance the tourist equation. However the warm and friendly demeanor of the local people largely eclipsed the comedy of errors and most who visited left with some sense of regret or at the very least reported "the booze is cheap"

All the while the remnants of a different age watched in dismay, as their version of their beloved Goa gradually receded, many felt cheated by the march of time and the ushering in of a new age, so reminiscent of what they had tired to escape in Goa all those years ago.
Some left never to return, their memories intact and untainted. Others couldn't bear to leave and continue to live in small rooms with pig toilets. Surrounded by timelss village Goa. They remai eternaly wrapped in a bubble of nostalgia, tinged with bitterness of what has come to pass. They find solace in the bottom of a glass or the business end of a chillum, dreaming wistfully of recreating those magical days of their youth elsewhere, on an, as yet, virgin beach. Unable to accept their fleeting period of magic and stardust has passed, Goa and their mojo belongs to another generation now.

I believe these nostalgic, yet resentful sentiments, that were the embryo of the negative press that Goa now receives as a destination for travelers.
Somewhere somehow Goa was proclaimed "finished, anyone contemplating a visit to Goa was now officially "uncool" (though much of the hung jury were still residents of the place)
Suddenly Goa's beaches didn't quite make the mark, it was too touristy, too expensive, too passe..............Too GOA

Finally the state was declared "not real India" A cliche that strikes at the heart of this fervently Indian state, a state that suffered the ignominy of a brutal foreign rule only to finally blossom as a fiercely independent but very Indian state in the early 60's.
Anyone who has roamed the hills and villages of inland Goa, or simply explored the back streets of the Goan tourist "hotspot" will realise how blinkered is this modern view of this charming, colourful little state.
Witness they outpouring of national pride when India beats Australia at cricket, or the euphoria of a win against the sworn enemy of Pakistan. The holi celebrations, weddings, elections...............Yes Goa is very much part of India and has much to capture the attention of the curious traveler.
In the next installment I'll try to convey some of the charm and things of interest contained in this little corner of India!! Delights often obscured below the veneer of tourism which seems to have become the only Goan reality for some..................

TO BE CONTINUED