Going to Goa

LYING on a rubber matt in a cool incense-filled room, I stared out of the window to a small dusty Indian courtyard and thought of nothing. I was having a traditional Ayurvedic massage which involved being massaged with long, sweeping strokes of someone's foot as they kept their balance by hanging on to a rope attached to the ceiling.

It seemed like a ridiculous idea at the time but after a few minutes of gentle back muscle kneading, I knew that two weeks in Goa was going to pass very smoothly indeed.

Ayurveda is a traditional Hindu system of medicine based on the idea of balance in bodily systems - and after a seven hour flight from Gatwick to Goa's basic international airport I was in need of some serious balancing.

I had spent the time amusing myself by rearranging my 6ft 3ins frame in and out of my seat, but the long haul was rewarded when we arrived - the contrast between a grey English February and India's hot, sticky summer air almost took our breath away.

And it didn't take long for Catherine and I to slow down enough to enjoy two weeks of serious relaxation, good food, a few beers and a touch of culture - although not necessarily in equal measure.

We stayed in a Portuguese-style villa on a resort near Calangute, which offered convenient tourist facilities while an easy escape route lay to the north with quieter beaches and rural farming villages.

When we arrived, the area's annual carnival was in full swing and our eyes had barely become used to the glare before we headed to Mapusa for the final day of celebrations.

The festival, exported to Goa by the Portuguese, was once a wild weekend of drinking and debauchery which has unfortunately attracted the attention of local authorities.

These days, although domestic tourists still travel from all over India to enjoy the spectacle, it is more commercialised and has been toned down.

The government insists that each carnival promotes a worthy message and from what I could tell this year's theme was something to do with shooting elephants, protecting children and selling motorbikes.

The message may have been confused but it was a great day with the streets packed full of colourful spectators, traders and snap-happy tourists.

My mother would disapprove but our lifeline during our stay was a long-suffering moped which we hired for a paltry £2 a day and that ran on orange 'petrol' sold for 50p a litre from old water bottles.

The feeling of freedom and adventure is great when you are on a bike and it enabled us to explore some remote beaches and escape the crowds.

Rural Indian roads aren't the best in the world but a few natural checks and balances helped keep us safe.

An impressive array of speed bumps and even 'speed holes' keep the light, rural traffic down to 20mph and there's nothing like the occasional passing elephant, sacred cow or family-of-five-on-one-motorbike to keep you on your toes.

One day we travelled to Arambol, a popular beach which backs on to a fresh water lake where bright-yellow sulphurous mud is warmed by a hot spring. Some brave souls say that it is good for the skin.

The beach was good but spoiled by plastic water bottles which wash up everywhere - a product of the growing tourist economy in the area.

The 90-minute journey there by moped, ferry and foot was much more satisfying and we even stopped to watch a game of cricket at a village on the way home.

We also used the moped to travel inland to Old Goa, hidden away in the jungle 40 minutes from the coast, a UNESCO world heritage site and home to some celebrated Renaissance architecture.

The cool church interiors were a welcome relief from the sun and we paid our respects to St Francis Xavier, enshrined at the Basilica of Bom Jesus AND still on public display more than 500 years after his death.

I had my misgivings about the effect of two weeks of Indian food on my constitution but the food was of surprisingly good quality and invariably cheap as chips - which were available too.

We enjoyed a rainbow of Indian foods from a bright green Hydrabadi fish curry to a rich yellow butter chicken massala and a menacing dark red vindaloo.

Chinese food was good too and I even ate a Japanese sukiyaki with traditional clear noodles and all the trimmings at a scenic cliff-side restaurant.

India is not the place if you hate curry but is great for vegetarians who can enjoy all sorts of dhals, fresh fruit and traditional breads.

There is still an element of the hippie culture that made Goa famous in the 1960s and beach parties are arranged by individuals and beach-front bars every few nights.

I didn't think this side of Goa offered anything that you couldn't find in Thailand or even Spain but that didn't stop us having a few late-nights.

Which brings me back to food. Some of the cafes which cater to morning-after party refugees offer awesome fresh fruit, pancakes and home-made bread - a welcome change to curry.

I used to think that only dedicated travellers would think of India as an attractive destination, but Goa hit a perfect balance of adventure and relaxation.

Fact file

u We travelled on a package organised by Goa Way, a small London-based travel operator that specialises in the area. Phone 020 7224 3344 or visit: www.goaway.co.uk for details.

u The Indian Tourist Board stocks a lot of useful leaflets and brochures, phone 0207 437 3677.

u The Indian Embassy in London can give information on visas, phone 020 7836 8484, or try the consulate in Birmingham by phoning 0121 2122782.

Updated: 09:31 Saturday, March 30, 2002