Moving on
Internet connections and power around here seem to be the dodgiest things ever. Typing this in Wordpad on the off chance the net connection comes back up and I have a chance to post it.
This is my last night in Arambol, and I'm actually quite sad leaving. I've already extended my stay by two days, but if I do that any longer I won't make the tour down south (which would be all bad). It's a gorgeous place, with a incredible population of hippies, backpackers and travellers who, drifting past, have just lodged and have been here for months. Though it's apparant this won't last, and indeed the commercialisation of the south is starting to make its mark, there are still nigh abandoned beaches, sequin and thread marked paths along jungle creeks to hippy shrines in banyan trees, and more gurus (and wannabe gurus) than a new-age convention.
I've met a huge number of people here, and have been out pretty much every night (music is theoretically banned past 10 pm in order to curb the Goa rave scene, though most places have an understanding with the law with regard to quieter stuff). The food is delicious and the cocktails superb, and remarkably affordable after back home. While English is the lingua franca, there are a lot of Russians (scary mafia types smoking cigarettes made in kalashnikov bullet factories, whom most people avoid) and Israelis (who have mainly just come out of national service, and as such are usually not the friendliest of people. Interestingly their government has done a deal with India ensuring that their visas are only three months and non-renewable. It seems too many were dissapearing here and never coming home.)
Dogs and buffalo roam the beach (with the occasional impromptu bullfight), eagles circle lazily above the shore, and crows dart between coconut trees. Crabs scurry from hole to hole on the sand or scamper through the twilight surf. I watch crimson suns tumble into the waves, and try not to think of packing.
This is my last night in Arambol, and I'm actually quite sad leaving. I've already extended my stay by two days, but if I do that any longer I won't make the tour down south (which would be all bad). It's a gorgeous place, with a incredible population of hippies, backpackers and travellers who, drifting past, have just lodged and have been here for months. Though it's apparant this won't last, and indeed the commercialisation of the south is starting to make its mark, there are still nigh abandoned beaches, sequin and thread marked paths along jungle creeks to hippy shrines in banyan trees, and more gurus (and wannabe gurus) than a new-age convention.
I've met a huge number of people here, and have been out pretty much every night (music is theoretically banned past 10 pm in order to curb the Goa rave scene, though most places have an understanding with the law with regard to quieter stuff). The food is delicious and the cocktails superb, and remarkably affordable after back home. While English is the lingua franca, there are a lot of Russians (scary mafia types smoking cigarettes made in kalashnikov bullet factories, whom most people avoid) and Israelis (who have mainly just come out of national service, and as such are usually not the friendliest of people. Interestingly their government has done a deal with India ensuring that their visas are only three months and non-renewable. It seems too many were dissapearing here and never coming home.)
Dogs and buffalo roam the beach (with the occasional impromptu bullfight), eagles circle lazily above the shore, and crows dart between coconut trees. Crabs scurry from hole to hole on the sand or scamper through the twilight surf. I watch crimson suns tumble into the waves, and try not to think of packing.