Palolem - An Introduction

I have been to a fair few places all over the world, but none of them capture so perfectly what you would want from a beach resort as Palolem and the beach one mile South, Patnem, do.
Resort is actually, in this case, a rather misleading term as to a certain degree it suggests a sense of development, modernisation and landscaping.
Although certainly developed, everything has been done to maintain the original features of the natural beauty inherent here and the landscaping has been minimal.
The beach is stunning, with rocky promontories either side that slip gracefully from 30ft palm and coconut trees across golden-white sand into blue water that resides somewhere around body-temperature or slightly below.
There are bars that shift up and down the beach depending on tide level, cafes and stalls, and a scattering of bamboo huts and more luxurious accomodation that dot the 1km stretch of coastline.
Boats bring in fresh fish and offer rides to the nearby Monkey Island (for those 1990s computer-gamers out there), and traders walk up and down selling everything from jewelry, sarongs, shells and hats to massages, suntan lotion and marijuana. Children play cricket on the sand for fun, and the more exploited ones do tightrope tricks for money.
As you amble slowly (you do everything here slowly) along, you are invited into the nearby restaurants to look at the fresh fish they have on offer and the specials of the day. It sounds like it would get annoying after a while, but the hassle factor is minimal, and after a day or so, the restauranteurs and stall owners recognise you and know whether you're likely to be interested in whatever it is that they're selling.
Perfect. If there had been a midget being fired out of a canon into the sea, on the hour every hour, i think i would have been in heaven.
A daily routine might consist of:
1 - Breakfast (always very healthy: yogurt/fruit based and maybe an egg or two)
2 - Some yoga (they do classes for all abilities all over the place)
3 - Go for a kayak
4 - Have a massage
5 - Eat some freshly caught and grilled fish
6 - Lounge on a sunbed reading a book and drinking a fresh fruit-juice/lassi/beer/cocktail
7 - Swim
8 - Repeat as desired.
I stayed for longer than i anticipated, but what with me now officially travelling alone, i didn't feel an obligation to stick to any agenda but my own. If my agenda was to lounge here for a week, than that is what i would do.
Aim low with what you hope to achieve on a holiday like this, then you're never disappointed.

I had decided to stay somewhere nice. My 'Hotel', Bhaki Kutir, was described in the Lonely Planet as "...surrounded by a thousand luminous birds, butterflies and flowers, the[se] well-equipped jungle huts offer something truly different."
Damn right!
My room was basically a treehouse. In order to enter it, i had to climb a ladder, where, up in the canopy of leaves, I had a double bed, mosquito net, shelves, a set of drawers, a bedside table and lamp and an overhead fan. There were only two walls, which meant that two sides of this bizarre but beautiful abode were essentially open. I could draw curtains across if i wished, but it was far nicer to wake in the morning to the sound of birds, sunlight filtering through the leaves and to get up displaying my nudity to anyone who happened to be passing along the nearby path at that exact moment.
Everyday I awoke and thought, Hmmm.. Maybe i'll just stay one more day.
The woman at the reception said that after i'd coyly inquired if the room would be available for another day for the third time, she'd just booked me in for the whole week.
Everyone that i encountered during my stay in Palolem, who had traveled other parts of Goa and visited other resorts, without exception, stated that Palolem was their favorite and they'd wished they'd come here first. This made me even more reluctant to leave and explore further North, as although the other beaches would obviously have different features and attributes that Palolem lacked, the general impression that i got was that wherever else i went, i would be disappointed.
I would get up in the mornings and after an early breakfast do an hour of yoga with this dude who looked exactly like you'd want your Indian yogi to look; Tall, serious-looking, bearded, long long black hair tied in a ponytail and bright orange pyjamas. He was pretty tolerant of my initial inflexibility and lack of ability to do headstands unaided, but i went twice a day for almost a week and could feel the difference in my posture, general wellbeing and suppleness progressing. Just on my last day, i felt him soften to me a little.
The only other place that I really wanted to see in Goa before leaving was Hampi, a temple complex a day or so East from here, so everyday i justified that i could just relax in Palolem for a bit longer and go to Hampi tomorrow.
Here, i was quite content just being. I don't mean that in any deep, spiritual sense, i just mean that here there appeared to be no pressure to do anything. I started to think that actually i couldn't even be bothered to go to Hampi and that realistically, i could just stay on this beach in my treehouse for the rest of my stay.

Being, however, can also involve a huge amount of alcohol if you're not careful.
At night time, all of the bars and cafes on the beach transformed into meccas of debauchery. There were places to suit all musical tastes ranging from a bar that appeared to play only Pink Floyd, to Goa Trance (of course), to Reggae and other typically beach tunes and House music. As dusk settled, the parties would start. Drinks promotions, volleyball competitions, DJs, silent-discos, fire-jugglers all descended and the bars laid out rugs, cushions and candles on the sand for everyone to lounge on.
Everyone, being on holiday in what can only really be called tropical pardise, was without exception in a fantastic mood and having a great time, so it was very easy for me, as a sole-traveller, to meet people to hang out with and chat to. The international meltingpot of alcoholically-fuelled and sexually-charged hedonism was alive and well in this ex-hippy resort, and the beauty of it was that upon waking the next morning, it had all disappeared again - that was until it reappeared once more at dusk. Kinda like The Lost Boys, except not at all really.
I met up with a group of girls who lived in London on my first night in Palolem, and ended up at one point or another meeting up with them intentionally or not throughout the week. They were all pretty cool, despite being Northern, and they very quickly acquired a small entourage of boys who all wanted to have sex with them. These guys were pretty funny too, and two of them even worked just round the corner from me in Soho.

After a few days of punishing my body with yoga and muesli by day, and beers and mojitos by night, i decided that i needed to stretch my horizons a little and go for an explore for some culture. It had been almost a week since i had been dangerously out of control on a motorbike, so i decided to up-the-ante and hire a bigger one for a 100km drive up into the hills to visit Chandor, an old 16th-Century Portuguese outpost.
This actually remains one of the most dangerous and irresponsible things i have ever done. But, my god, i would do it again in a second and would recommend it to anyone who wants a truly life-affirming experience.