Nirvana for dropouts, flower children, and New Age travelers since the late 1960s, Goa's hippie invasion peaked in the '70s, when Anjuna Beach became a rocking venue for party demons and naturalists who would sell their last piece of clothing at the local flea market for just enough cash to buy more dope and extend their stay. For many, Goa still conjures up images of all-night parties and tripping hippies sauntering along sun-soaked beaches. But there is more to this tiny western state than sea and sand, hippies and hedonists. A rich amalgam of Portuguese and Indian influences, its history alone has ensured that its persona is unlike any other in India. Arriving in 1498, the Portuguese stayed for almost 500 years (kicked out, finally, in 1961 -- the last Europeans to withdraw from the subcontinent), leaving an indelible impression on the local population and landscape. Goans still take a siesta every afternoon; many are Catholic, and you'll meet Portuguese-speaking Mirandas, D'Souzas, and Braganzas, their ancestors renamed by the colonial priests who converted them, often by force. Garden Hindu shrines stand cheek-by-jowl with holy crosses, and the local vindaloo (curry) is made with pork. Dotted among the palm groves and rice fields are dainty villas bearing European coats of arms and imposing mansions with wrought-iron gates -- built not only for European gentry but for the Brahmins who, by converting, earned the right to own land.
Over the past 8 years Goa has become more hip than hippie, with well-heeled Indians frequenting the new rash of flashy international-style restaurants and design-conscious furniture and lifestyle stores at which they shop in order to adorn their ostentatious Goa mansions. Joining them every winter are the white-skinned package tourists, come to indulge in the rather commercialized trance culture, and Indian youngsters who cruise from beach to beach, legs wrapped around cheap motorbikes and credit cards tucked into their Diesel jeans.
Goa is very much "India Light," a cosmopolitan tourist-oriented place of five-star resorts and boutique guest houses, and in many ways this is the perfect introduction to a country that, elsewhere, can be very challenging indeed. Of course, when the crowds arrive, particularly over New Year's, Goa's beaches and markets are anything but tranquil. Sun beds and shacks line the most commercial beaches, and hawkers haggle ceaselessly with droves of fresh-off-the-charter-plane Europeans here to sample paradise at bargain prices while Mumbai and Bangalore puppies crowd the shoreline bars and restaurants. If it's action you're after, you will run into endless opportunities for all-night partying and reckless abandon, but Goa's true pleasures are found away from the crowds, on the more remote beaches to the far north and south, on the semi-private beaches adjoining expensive luxury resorts, or in the charming guesthouses located farther inland. Come for at least 3 days, and you may end up staying for a lifetime -- as a number of very content expats from around the world have done. However you decide to play it, live the local motto -- "Sossegade": "Take it easy."
Mayhem in Paradise -- Every year from December 23 to January 7, tens of thousands of world tourists, both domestic and foreign, descend on Goa, so if you plan to spend Christmas or New Year's here, expect to negotiate crowds everywhere, particularly along the bursting-to-the-seams Baga-Calangute stretch. You can avoid the crowds to some extent by confining yourself to your hotel or guesthouse, but all the popular bars and restaurants will be filled to capacity, with queues so long they can cause traffic jams. Besides, everything -- particularly accommodations -- will be extremely expensive at this time. Almost every hotel charges a separate end-of-year tariff, most with an accompanying surcharge for the in-house "festive party" (even if you don't plan to attend). If loud and raucous merriment is not your style, avoid Goa during this time; your money will go twice the distance here once the revelers have departed.
