September 11, 2005 / Timesonline.co.uk



GoaÂ’s not gone - ItÂ’s just hiding

Stanley Stewart weaves through the banana plantations and dodges the chickens to find the untouched side of IndiaÂ’s coastal paradise, in our definitive guide

Goa, everyone agreed, was spoilt. Not what it was 20 years ago. Some people were snooty, as if I were going on a package holiday to Benidorm. Others were simply despairing, sighing that it had lost its magic, that it had sold its soul to charter flights and overdevelopment.

There were times when I wondered if IÂ’d got the wrong Goa. I wandered south to Palolem, winding through the coconut groves, and found Goa so peaceful in the depths of a somnolent afternoon that I felt I could hear the dogs panting on the verandas of the old Portuguese houses.

At Cabo da Rama I stood on the ruined ramparts of the old fort, watching the swallows dive in the trade winds that bore the Portuguese caravels here 500 years ago. For as far as I could see, the coast looked as pristine as it would have done to those early sailors. A line of surf curled beneath gangly palms, where weathered fishing boats were drawn up on the white sands. Could this be the same place?

I realise now that the people who warned me off had been to Calangute, and were suffering from Blackpool syndrome. I once met an Algerian in Blackpool who expressed surprise that England consisted chiefly of carnival rides, ice-cream parlours and amusement arcades. I advised him to get out of Blackpool immediately. Once he got to the Lake District, he never looked back.

Calangute is indeed a messy confusion of concrete hotels, beach bars, souvenir shops, and sun loungers adorned with pink Europeans. I got out immediately. I wanted to find the parts of Goa that package tourism hadnÂ’t reached, but I didnÂ’t expect it to be so easy.

I rented a scooter and set off down the back roads. In 20 minutes I was in another world, on a rosewood love seat in a long gallery of Chinese vases and oyster-shell windows, having tea with Mrs Perreira Braganza. The house contained all the finery of a vanished imperial age — glass paintings from China, furniture from Macao, silver from England, marble from Italy.

Mrs Perreira Braganza ushered me through the ballroom, beneath the Belgian chandeliers, to the family chapel.

“We have an important relic,” she whispered. “The fingernail of St Francis Xavier.”

ItÂ’s true: the fingernail of St Francis can tell you much about Goa. A Portuguese colony marooned in British India, this has always been a place apart. Goans still speak a trifle disparagingly about India, as if it were a separate country; while Indians speak as though Goans are another race. In town squares where one might expect chai (tea) stalls, there are small bars and fish stalls. In the palm groves where one might expect temples and adobe villages, there are whitewashed churches and old villas with genteel balconies and shuttered windows.

Goa is South AsiaÂ’s Latin Quarter: indulgent, tolerant, capricious, steeped in a tropical lassitude and wedded to the sea. To explain themselves, Goans speak of susegad, a term whose translation depends upon whom you ask. It comes from the Portuguese word socegado, meaning quiet, which doesnÂ’t really do it justice.

For Goans, susegad identifies a laid-back attitude to life. When I asked Mrs Perreira Braganza about it, she sniffed, “It’s nothing more than indolence.” When I asked her niece, she grinned and said, “Relax, take your time, enjoy life, be happy. That’s susegad.”

Susegad must have appealed to the Portuguese, a people inclined to take their time. Within 100 years of their arrival here, they had created one of the richest cities in Asia. It was also one of the most decadent. The sea breezes, the tropical languor, that old susegad, had conspired to make Goa an oriental fleshpot.

Which is where St Francis Xavier came in. Dispatched by the Portuguese king to reverse GoaÂ’s moral decline, Francis spent 10 years in the east, before dying of a fever while trying to sneak into China. When the body was returned to Goa, its state of perfect preservation was greeted as a miracle.

I paid him a visit. He resides in Old Goa, the haunting remnants of the former capital, abandoned in the 17th century because of malaria. Ensconced in the great Basilica of Bom Jesus, in an elaborate tomb donated by the last of the Medicis, Francis is taken out for public display every 10 years amid hysterical scenes that would not be out of place in medieval Rome.

“You have just missed him,” the guide shrugged.

“They put him back last week. You will have to wait until 2015.”

“Did he lose any toes?” I asked.

The good saint has lost a few body parts. In 1614 his right arm was dispatched to visit the Pope, where it allegedly wrote its name on a pile of papers. His left hand went to Japan; his intestines to Southeast Asia; and the Perreira Braganzas are quite proud of their fingernail.

But toes have been a fatal attraction. In 1634 a Portuguese noblewoman, presumably deranged by devotion, bit off the little toe of St FrancisÂ’s right foot. She was found out by the trail of blood that led to her house. And in 1995, a devotee bit off the little toe of his left foot. She smuggled it out of the church in her mouth. She was only apprehended when she removed it in the queue for the ferry.

Happy in Goa, the Portuguese took their time leaving, lingering here in colonial lassitude until 1961. A few years later, the hippies arrived, on the overland trail to Kathmandu. They too were seduced by susegad, a vibe so akin to their own sensibilities that Goa might have been invented for them. A hammock, a good lady, a spliff and a badly tuned guitar were all they required.

For a time they had the beaches of Goa to themselves. But eventually word got out. Artists came for the marine light and the cheap accommodation; backpackers arrived; ravers checked in for full-moon parties, and finally tourists turned up. The word on the travellerÂ’s street was that Goa had been spoilt.

But Goa is only spoilt in the places everyone goes to. Winding through the coconut groves on that road south to Palolem, I couldnÂ’t see the problem. If this was spoilt, I donÂ’t know what theyÂ’d call Ko Samui or most of the Caribbean.

I was following the coast of south Goa, where the beach runs for miles, most of it surprisingly empty. On this stretch, Colva is the only spot where too much development has tarnished the paradise — and even there, you can rent a bicycle and ride north or south along the hard sand at the water’s edge to whichever beach-bum ambience suits your mood.

Palolem beach has lately acquired star status here. Cradled in a curving bay between rocky headlands, it is one of GoaÂ’s most picturesque. It is not undiscovered, but the travellers here are young and independent and low key. There are no resorts, only a scattering of bamboo and thatch huts for rent, lots of good beach bars and cafes, and a strong whiff of susegad.

For seclusion, you need only to walk south over the rocky headland to the sandy cove of Colom, where a few long-stay travellers hang out. Further south is the lovely sweep of Patnem, where a limit on the number of beach shacks has kept things relatively quiet. Or go north to Agonda beach, a long, pristine strand with just a few places to stay. When I stopped for a swim and a stroll on the beach in the late afternoon, I was completely alone.

But my favourite Goan destination lies at the other end of the state, at the extreme northern tip. The journey is half the fun. Once across the Chopden estuary, tourism falters. On the coast, at beaches such as Morjim, Aswem and Mandrem, I found some beach huts, a few upmarket villas buried in coconut groves, and acres of white sand bordering the Arabian Sea. Arambol has one of the last of the great hippie beaches. Here is what Goa was 20 years ago.

Along the rural lanes beyond Arambol, old farmhouses are enclosed in latticed palm shade. The road twists through areca palms and banana plantations and rice paddies. The main traffic seemed to be pedestrian. Women in saris carried sacks on their heads. Startled roosters dashed back and forth. The bread delivery man passed on his bicycle, ringing his bell. On the banks of the River Arondem, I found a ferry just large enough for a battered truck, a convoy of schoolchildren and my scooter.


On the north bank of the river lies the state of Maharashtra — all except for the strategic headland at the river’s mouth, which is an outpost of Goa. On the headland at Tiracol is an 18th-century Maharatha fort that has been revived as a small heritage hotel. I climbed to the ramparts, where there was a modest but elegant cafe with a heart-stopping view of the river, the sea and the empty white sands of Querim beach curving southwards. It is the finest panorama I have seen anywhere on the coast of India.

This was Goa as it was, not 20 years ago, but 100 years ago. This was Goa unspoilt.

  • Stanley Stewart travelled as a guest of Greaves Travel

    The practical guide

    A COMMON misconception is that Goa is small and easy to get around. Not true: the drive from north to south takes about four hours, and simply moving from one beach to the next can involve a long trip inland.

    So, before you book, decide which beach best suits you. If your notion of nirvana is a chillum and a chill-out zone, you wonÂ’t want to find yourself stranded in a resort full of retirees.

    Rule number two: donÂ’t be tempted to go out of season. The peak period is November to April; for much of the rest of the year, IndiaÂ’s west coast is battered by monsoon rains.

    Finally, pick your sightseeing trips with care. You will almost certainly be offered excursions to fishing villages, spice plantations, waterfalls and so on. Some are fun, but not all. The waterfalls at Dudhsagar, for instance, are spectacular, but reaching them entails a round trip of up to six hours on potholed roads.

    Even so, it’s worth hauling yourself off your sunbed to do some exploring. Don’t bother with the local buses: take taxis. Deal with a driver directly, rather than through your hotel, and you’ll pay about £10 for a full day’s chauffeuring.

    THE NORTH

    Broadly speaking, north Goa has the busier resorts, the more colourful nightlife and the more interesting boutique hotels. The first beaches to be colonised by hippies were Calangute and Baga; both are now heavily developed. But the construction of a new road bridge across the Chapora River has opened up the unspoilt beaches of Morjim, Mandrem and, beyond them, Keri and Arambol.

    Starting in the far north, there is Fort Tiracol (00 91 236 622 7631; doubles from £53, half-board), with seven simple but elegant rooms overlooking a ravishing view; two with sun-washed terraces. The fort is eerily quiet and there is very little to do (not even a pool), but the food makes up for it. Its remoteness could be a problem for those who want to explore the rest of Goa, but the hotel can arrange scooter rental or a car with driver. Greaves Travel (020 7487 9111, www.greavesindia.com) has five nights there, plus one night in Mumbai, including flights from London with British Airways, internal flights and transfers, from £1,520pp. South of Keri, the road twists past paddy fields, prawn farms and rural hamlets towards Arambol. The better beaches are just south of here: Morjim is so quiet and pristine that olive ridley turtles still lay their eggs in the soft sand. The best place to stay is the incongruously named Montego Bay Beach Village (00 91-982 215 0847, www.greavesindia.com) has five nights there, plus one night in Mumbai, including flights from London with British Airways, internal flights and transfers, from £1,520pp.

    South of Keri, the road twists past paddy fields, prawn farms and rural hamlets towards Arambol. The better beaches are just south of here: Morjim is so quiet and pristine that olive ridley turtles still lay their eggs in the soft sand. The best place to stay is the incongruously named Montego Bay Beach Village (00 91-982 215 0847, www.montegobaygoa.com), which has Rajasthani tents with tiled bathrooms for £19 a night.

    Just across the Chapora River is the village of Siolim, where a 17th-century Portuguese mansion has been converted into a seven-room heritage hotel. Casa Palacio Siolim House (832 227 2138, www.siolimhouse.com; doubles from £74, B&B) has huge rooms, antique beds, hardwood floors and a small pool. From £1,390pp, with Greaves (similar terms to Fort Tiracol).

    If you want to dip a toe into Goa’s groovy scene, head to Vagator with its handful of beach shacks, some blasting out trance and house music. Cut inland past the village of Arpora and you’ll eventually reach the Nilaya Hermitage (832 227 6793, www.nilayahermitage.com; half-board doubles from £147). This 10-room boutique hotel is the ultimate in hippie chic, with Gaudi-esque broken-tile mosaics, a cobalt-blue chill-out room and a beautiful pool overlooking Baga. A-list guests have included Giorgio Armani, Richard Gere and — of course — Kate Moss. From £1,620 for five nights, including flights, again with Greaves.

    Another boutique hotel worth considering is Casa Britona (937 131 1171, www.casabritona.com; doubles from £82, B&B), a former Portuguese warehouse, overlooking a backwater of the Mapusa River, which has been converted into an intimate guesthouse with six rooms, a small pool and friendly staff. The decor is tasteful and there is no menu — you simply discuss what you fancy with the chef. On the other side of the Mapusa River lies the capital, Panjim, a low-key town of crumbling colonial buildings, hole-in-the-wall bars and tree-lined boulevards. Not far away, and altogether more appealing, is the abandoned Portuguese city of Old Goa, now a dramatic collection of cathedrals and basilicas. Just around the headland from here is the Cidade de Goa, set in tropical gardens overlooking a small, effectively private beach. A week’s B&B costs from £649 with Hayes & Jarvis (0870 898 9890, www.hayesandjarvis.co.uk), for two sharing in high season, including flights from London.

    THE SOUTH

    South Goa has an altogether more languid and uncluttered feel, with the best beaches and the best beach hotels.

    South of the airport at Dabolim you enter Salcete, bordered by a superb 15-mile beach. Your first stop should be Utorda — little more than a couple of hotels and a handful of beach shacks. The best is Zeebop (00 91-832 275 5333; open 9am-3pm, 6pm-11pm), with tables propped in the dunes and daily seafood specials.

    Two minutes’ walk away is the four-star Kenilworth Beach Resort (832 275 5555, www.kenilworthhotels.com), which has an attractive pool area and a new spa and gym. A week’s B&B starts at £646 with Travelpack (0870 121 2040, www.travelpack-goa.com).

    A little further south, at Benaulim, the five-star Taj Exotica (00 91 832 277 1234, www.tajhotels.com) has large colonial-style rooms looking out across lush grounds to tennis courts, a nine-hole golf course and a gorgeous stretch of beach. A week’s B&B costs from £1,094 with Kuoni (01306 743000, www.kuoni.co.uk).

    Keep pushing south and you come to the fishing village of Mobor. The beach here is as soft, clean and uncrowded as anywhere in Goa, and is home to its classiest hotel, The Leela (832 287 1234, www.ghmhotels.com) — great food, a spa, a 12-hole golf course and villas arranged around sparkling lagoons. It also has excellent dining on its doorstep, including Betty’s Place (832 287 1038), which runs its own all-day boat trips (£9, including lunch and drinks). A week’s B&B costs from £859 with Hayes & Jarvis (0870 898 9890, www.hayesandjarvis.co.uk).

    A mile from Mobor is the busy little resort of Cavelossim, where the Barretto family runs both the Goan Village Restaurant and the guesthouse opposite, Sao Domingo’s(00 91 832 287 1461, www.saodomingosgoa.com). A basic but clean, air-conditioned double room here will cost you £20 a night. Book direct or through Jewel in the Crown Holidays (01293 533338, www.jewelholidays.com); from £579 for a week, B&B.

    Finally there’s Palolem, in the far south, with its gorgeous mile-long beach and continuous line of bars, restaurants and backpackers’ huts. The best place to stay is Ciaran’s (00 91 832 264 3477), where a spacious bungalow with thatched roof, balcony, hammock and hot shower costs £31 a night.

    GETTING THERE

    First Choice Airways and Excel Airways are among the charter carriers flying from the UK direct to Goa. Expect to pay from £400, from Gatwick or Manchester, through Travelrepublic (0845 612 1747, www.travelrepublic.co.uk), Flightline (0800 541541, www.flightline.co.uk) or Charter Flight Centre (0845 045 0153, www.charterflights. co.uk). The best scheduled option is to fly via Mumbai, one hour north of Goa. Opodo (0871 277 0091, www.opodo. co.uk) has fares from Heathrow from £460, with BMI and Indian Airlines; or from Manchester, Glasgow and others — from £500, using the same carriers as above. Or try Travelocity (0870 111 7060, www.travelocity.co.uk) and Travelbag (0870 814 4441, www.travelbag.co.uk).

    Other tour operators include Direct Holidays (0870 191 9138, www.directholidays.co.uk), Odyssey Worldwide (0870 429 2020, www.odyssey holidays.com) and Somak Holidays (020 8423 3000, www.somak.co.uk).

  • Mark Hodson travelled as a guest of Hayes & Jarvis
  • EXPRESSIONS
    The Flower Shop

    TO  GOA  WITH  LOVE
    S   P   E   C   I   A   L      G   R   E   E   T   I   N   G   S      P   A   C   K   A   G   E   S
    F O R   A L L  O C C A S I O N S  

    EXPRESSIONS

    www.goa-world.com/expressions

     



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