Something like paradise

The days in Goa have flown by. I guess it's because I've been so busy since I got here! My days are just packed! I mean, all that curry to eat and all that sleeping to do, not to mention the smoking, swimming and shitting (it takes longer here), also the ogling, backgammoning, sweeping the sand out of my hut and, last but by no means least, all the hammock action I've been compelled to engage in.

Phew! I'm knackered!

The last few weeks have been a bit of a rough ride, which is quite funny when you think about it, because as I just explained I've spent them lazing on a beach doing very little.

When I say lazing, what I mean is LAZING. L-A-Z-I-N-G.

A prime example of this particularly apathetic form of laziness is sitting right in front of you. Quite a lot of this blog entry has been cobbled together from emails I've sent to some of you guys over the last few days. I figured, fuck it, why not. There's too much lazing to be done, there's not enough time in the day for much else.

Palolem Beach sucks the vigour right out of you and leaves you listless and lazy and content in an edgy kind of way. Well, that's how I feel about it right now, but that may just be the residue of the excessive amount of partying that I've done over the last six days. I had a good time but I got very messy and lost the use of some of my higher brain functions. For a while I wasn't able to discriminate between nice people and not-nice people.

However, apart from feeling like the tide of booze and drugs has gone out leaving the beach of my body littered with all kinds of crap, I'm in a positive state of mind. Exhausted after all the festivities, last night I was lying in my coco hut and I experienced what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity. It's very easy to get sucked into Palolem's Party Pit but it's not really a very interesting place to be!

Palolem Beach has changed a lot, apparently. No longer a southern retreat from the trance parties in northern Goa, it's now embraced tourism in pretty much the same way as the rest of the state. These days, it goes off at Cafe Del Mar in the middle of the beach all night every night, and amongst the various groups partying hard until dawn, there are more English tossers than you can shake a stick at.

I'm not a snob. I just didn't expect to come to India and meet the Brits abroad. I'm kind of disappointed. Most of the beaches in Goa are like the Costa Del Sol with bad plumbing. Although the plumbing is worse here, Palolem is much better than almost everywhere else, but still, the seed has been sown here and the place will continue changing, for the worse, until whatever magical energy it started out with is entirely gone.

It's not a paradise, not any more. Well, perhaps it's a paradise for drop-outs, but not for me. Nonetheless, I am enjoying myself tremendously. I've even extended my time here, I was supposed to leave tonight but I can't be arsed. This could be my first step on the road to drop-outhood. The thing is, if the biggest decision you have to make in a day is whether to go for a naan bread or a paratha with your chana massala, then making a resolution to pack your bag and move on can seem very intimidating indeed.