Well, I’m due to set off back to the airport shortly, marking the official end of this Goan sojourn. As you know, this wasn’t my usual kind of trip by any means, and I wasn’t entirely sure how it would all eventually pan out. In the event though, it’s turned out to be everything I hoped for and more – one of the best trips in years, in fact!

For those of you who have only just realised this blog exists – well, better late than never! Consider this your friendly neighbourhood reminder that you’ve missed out on a good two weeks of sheer literary genius (just ask my mum!). For your benefit, I’ve put together a quick highlight reel of this trip for the time-poor or CBA crowd, who inexplicably haven’t yet read every word of this travelog masterpiece. And with that, here’s my massively abridged, wildly biased, and completely non-exhaustive Goa top five – and plus a few “final thoughts” on the whole collective experience too, while we’re at it….

1. Yoga and Meditation Retreat

A major highlight of the trip was – unsurprisingly – blissing out at the relaxing Bamboo Yoga Retreat on the secluded Polem beach. With its untouched white sands and warm waters, daily yoga and meditation sessions, bio-diverse vegetarian food, plus bar and spa on site (both frequented most days!), this place felt like a true paradise on earth – and I was, of course, in good company for the duration too! In fact, I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that yoga retreats are to women “of a certain age” what youth hostels are to backpackers: i.e. a great way to meet people on the move, do something vaguely cultural by day, and then collectively converge on the bar to get a bit squiffy together by night… 😉

Only downsides: minimal hot water and Putin decidedly pissing on my chips halfway through (not exactly conducive to staying “in the moment” while simultaneously contemplating the imminent prospect of apocalyptic thermonuclear warfare). For my full posts on the yoga retreat experience, see here and here.

2. Hippying Out at Palolem

Heading up the coast, I next spent a lovely few days in the vibrant beach town of Palolem, where the laid-back, quintessentially Goan hippy vibe is still very much alive and well. From yoga classes and reiki to art workshops and past-life regression, there was no shortage of New Age shenanigans on offer here – because, well, Goa… No past-life revelations for me though as – let’s face it – it’s probably best I don’t confirm anyone’s suspicions about a certain Teutonic dictator with a dodgy tache anytime soon… 😉

I may not have quite attained spiritual enlightenment while here, though after one particular high-intensity, truly bona fide Ayurvedic massage, I genuinely felt like I’d touched the divine – or, failing that, fallen madly in love with the masseur and his exquisitely silver thumbs. The deluded, abortion-obsessed Deva Batshit can, by contrast, swivel on it. You can read more about the whole Goan hippy / hipster experience here, here and here.

3. Sight-seeing in Panaji

I really loved my time in the Goan capital, Panaji (or Panjim, depending on who you ask) – a vibrant, colourful and notably laid-back city with a strong colonial influence, which lent the place a vibe that at times felt almost as Mediterranean as Indian.

I spent a chill few days here bimbling around the local markets, churches and temples, stopping in on multiple hole-in-the-wall chai shops along the way, and indulging in the occasional feni cocktail. Top tip: if you’re signing up for an Ayurvedic massage in this neck of the woods, do make sure you know exactly what you’re agreeing to – and keep your bumhole firmly off the itinerary!

4. Food Glorious Food

And of course, there was delicious Goan food, which is unique in India thanks to the historic Portuguese influence here. Most days, I’d tuck into some sort of South Indian brunch — such as dhosas, idli, upma, seerna, uttapam, aloo parantha, or the intriguing ros omelette (an omelette in curry sauce) — invariably accompanied by a sweet lassi or washed down with yet more of my beloved masala chai.

In the evenings, I explored various thalis and Goan specialities, such as prawn xacuti, Goan fish curry, prawn balchão, chicken cafreal, and ambot tik. Oh, and vindaloo (laaa laaah), which, it turns out, is Goan in origin too. Who knew? Not forgetting, of course, the odd visit to traditional Indian sweet shops for a spot of laddu, barfi, or milk cake as well.

5. India Being India!

And of course, not forgetting all the weird and wonderful things that make India India – from tuk tuks to Tata trucks, to bustling markets and ornate temples, to vibrant colours and intoxicating fragrances, to the ubiquitous cows nearly everywhere you look. Some things just never change – and, honestly, would we want it any other way…? 😉

So, in conclusion, here are my musings on the trip as a whole. I’m aware that some of this could be construed as a privileged, middle-aged, middle-class white woman appropriating centuries of ancient Ayurvedic traditions, and then cherry-picking the bits that best suit. I personally prefer to think of it as finding out what resonates most, and then taking it from there… Anyhoo, that all being said, here we go:

1. Less Really Is More: Somehow, this two-week trip feels like a month’s worth of relaxation, and for the first time in… ummm.. forever… as a result I don’t require another holiday to get over this last one…

2. Embracing My Inner Virgo: Whether as a result of the stars, coincidence, or Barnum effect, I am Virgo: hear me… ummm… plan…? Bring on fulfilment of personal, professional and filial duty – cause that’s how I roll, y’all.

3. Yoga and Meditation: Both definitely the way forward, but only if approached on a “start low, go slow” basis – think yin yoga (minimal movement) or yoga nidra (no movement at all). Anything else is prone to tip me right back into school PE territory (i.e. feeling wholly inadequate and immediately wanting to give up), which I think we can all agree is not exactly the right vibe for embarking on any new spiritual, physical, or emotional path here. Anyway, I personally incline more to the view that quests for enlightenment pair rather better with a G&T and good company instead… 😉

4. Ayurvedic Deep Pressure Point Massage: A true revelation!! I saw stars. I saw God. I saw imminent matrimony with the masseur in question, and his divine thumbs. Painful…? Agonisingly so. Exquisite…? Oh God, yes. In short, more please!

5. “Spirituality” and “Wellness” Have Their Limits. And mine primarily boil down to abortion-themed role-play activities (wrong wrong wrong on so many levels) and involuntary enemas (just… no).

And that’s a wrap for this trip! No great life-changing spiritual revelations achieved maybe, but plenty of massages, cocktails, the odd bit of sightseeing and lots of fun (and unexpectedly deep) emotional chats with the ladies at the retreat. And so for once in my long history of travels, it really has been as much about the “being” than the “doing” this time round – a yin versus yang balance I will definitely need to take forward into other trips. And – as you might have guessed! – I am already thinking about a potential return next years, stars permitting that is… 😉

For now though, thanks a million to all of you reading – you know who you are! – and watch this space for next time! 🙂

Well, as promised, here’s another update from Panaji (or Panjim, depending on who you ask), the vibrant, colourful, and notably laid-back Goan capital.

That said, given the city’s long colonial heritage, you’d be forgiven at times for almost thinking you were in the Mediterranean rather than South Asia. Brightly painted colonial buildings, tiled facades, and whitewashed Catholic churches are of course all direct legacies from the Portuguese. Throw in ubiquitous cafés and confeitarias, an impressive array of street art – plus the waterside setting and distinctive cable-stayed bridge – and you get a definite Lisbon-like air. In fact, all it’s missing is a giant Christ statue looming over the city to complete the Portuguese picture – an oversight by the old colonialists, surely?*

Speaking of Christ, I hadn’t realised just how significant neighbouring Old Goa (a short twenty-minute drive away) is as a pilgrimage site for India’s Christian population. There are 28 million Christians across the country, and it certainly felt as if every last one of them had converged on Old Goa when I visited the other day. The place was absolutely teeming with people – what with massive crowds everywhere, lengthy queues to get into the Se Cathedral, and outdoor masses taking place on a grand scale. Not to mention the abundance of Catholic kitsch on offer everywhere too.

People had travelled from all corners of the country to visit the place, which meant several families approached me as one of the few Western visitors in the mix – just to say hello and take a picture with me. As a great big introvert, I personally find being repeatedly put on the spot by well-meaning strangers excruciatingly embarrassing, but what can you do…? It would take a special kind of churlishness not to reciprocate curiosity with kindness in these situations, and even I’m not quite that much of a bitch to simply give people the brush-off here – whatever I might inwardly feel! And so I ended up slapping on a smile and channelling my inner Michael Palin (ever affable abroad), as I endured what turned out to be multiple such encounters throughout the afternoon. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I’m an atheist – after all, who am I to rain on anyone’s parade here…?

What else…? Well, obviously I’ve been doing my usual thing of wandering around the city, mainly by foot but with the odd tuk tuk journey thrown in for good measure. This means exploring bustling markets, visting local temples, and generally just getting to know Panaji’s vibrant streets – all while trying not to get run over by Panaji’s endless sea of mopeds (the secret: walk with purpose and show no fear). A tiny sample of the countless photos I’ve snapped is included here:

As for now, I’m planning to check in later to a more upmarket hotel for my final night – a tradition I started in Morocco with my relaxing visit to a riad, and plan to uphold from here on in. The Crown Goa is not quite in the same league, but it does boast a pool (I’m desperate for a swim at this time), a spa (no colonics, please!), and panoramic views out over the city – so, all in all, not a bad little spot to wind up my trip.

Anyhoo, on that note I’ll say goodbye for now, before posting what will likely be my final blog of the trip tomorrow – until then!

* Actually really not that old. I only just found out that Goa was still officially a Portuguese colony until 1961, long after the rest of India gained independence from Britain. Who knew…?

Well, when I wrapped up my last blog post, I speculated about what the fates might have in store for me by the time of my next entry. Little did I imagine it would be an attempted bumhole invasion – albeit, I hasten to add, only of the Ayurvedic “therapeutic” variety (so don’t panic, Dad), rather than anything truly nefarious. Specifically, this would have entailed a) a disconcertingly long plastic tube and b) a mystery medicinal oil, both sneakily earmarked for direct backdoor application as part of an otherwise ostensibly innocent massage, allegedly designed to “balance out” my Pitta-Vata doshas.

It’s safe to say the #metoo conversation has clearly not yet reached the Southern Indian Ayurvedic community – or at least not based on this afternoon’s consent-based (or lack thereof) shenanigans at any rate. It wasn’t just the audacity of the surprise backdoor ambush – unannounced and uninvited though it was. No, the real issue was the sheer and unrelenting persistence of the young masseuse in question, who just wouldn’t take no for answer – despite my making my views on the matter very clearly known.

At the time, I was of course lying prone on a massage table, near stark bollock naked, slathered head to toe in some form “detoxifying medical oil” and really not in the best position to assert my boundaries towards this lady – whose English was as limited as my Hindi. Still, I managed to channel my inner Thatcher with a defiant and repeated “no, no, no!”. When it comes to rectal politics, this lady is definitely not for turning!

Her justification was essentially “doctor’s orders”, for which she was the mere proxy. Only after far too many minutes of mortifying, mainly gesticulatory, back-and-forth did she finally concede defeat – though not before dobbing me in to the consultant first, who (once I was decent again) summoned me to his office for a headmasterly lecture about how rectal oiling was entirely normal – clearly inferring that I was the odd one for not immediately hopping on the alternative medicine enema bandwagon. Of course, I’ve thought of one hundred odd re-“butt”-als (as it were) since, but at the time I just said I hadn’t been expecting it (I hadn’t!), and it was my personal choice and all that (it was!). So, in short, thanks but no thanks on that front, you weirdo bunch of self-righteous, sanctimonious, uninvited rectal evangelists!!

And so it was that I emerged from this long and awkward afternoon session as oily as an Exxon slick, clutching a bag of dubious herbal remedies, best part of £100 lighter and with an emergent case of PTSD to contend with as a result – not to mention a renewed appreciation of the NHS and science-based medicine as a whole.

Obviously, aside from this I have also been visiting lots of temples and markets and shit in vibrant Panaji over the last day or two, and having a lovely time too – but as it stands have nothing further to offer that beats the above anecdote! For that reason, I’ll sensibly save the detail on that till another time – presuming that no one else tries to test my boundaries with any further bum-bound interventions in the meantime, that is! Until then!

Well, as I mentioned last time, while in Palolem, I ended up having an astrological chart drawn up – just for shits and giggles, if nothing else. I don’t actually believe in horoscopes, of course, especially after learning from Richard Dawkins that the entire celestial logic behind them was thrown off its originally plotted axis yonks ago by the interim discovery of new stars, planets and fact of shifting constellations. (Naturally, these inconvenient facts are studiously ignored by career horoscope purveyors and followers of all things zodiac…)

All that being said, I still somehow manage to represent the textbook epitomous Virgo here, namely: perfectionist, driven, hyper-organised, diligent to a fault, and clearly ma-hoo-sively anal retentive. Coincidence? Possibly. Barnum Effect? Maybe. And yet, it’s always tempting to see what the stars allegedly have to say, even if I’m personally approaching the whole endeavour with a vat full of salt at the ready…

Without further ado then, let’s have a look at some of the key highlights from the very comprehensive (a whole 55 pages worth!) astrological report – as it happens, turns out the cosmos has quite a lot to say on the matter… 😉

Personality and Traits

Astrological Chart: Born on a Friday, and so ruled by Venus, you are analytical, detail-focused, often too much, and are practical, you value order, efficiency, and self-improvement. These traits can also make you overly critical of yourself. Virgo Sun means you often spot details others miss. You seek always to improve yourself and express creativity. You are thoughtful and introspective, not given to impulsive actions. You have ability to cut through distractions and focus on what matters, finding joy in simple pleasures, bringing clarity to complicated scenarios, while always spotting the silver lining.

Me: Well, either that’s confirmation bias in action, or the stars have me rightly pegged as the Virgo poster child. Hard to argue with the cosmos when they get it so spot on…

Love and Marriage

Astrology Chart: Your married life will be happy. In spite of providing such a wonderful environment at home, however, the psychological health of your spouse will be a matter of concern. Recommended remedies include: 1. Feeding the birds with something sweet. 2. Keeping ivory in the home. 3. Worshipping the banyan tree with sweetened milk.

Me: Ahem. No comment. But I at least now know where it all went wrong – no ivory, no banyan tree, and I’ve yet to offer the birds anything other than a savoury type snack. Will bear this in mind for next time, though the ivory would have to be imitation only. Can’t have any elephants dying for the sake of maintaining any hypothetical future states of marital bliss, can we now…?

Family and Friendships

Astrology Chart: You have a special attachment with your mother and will get more love from her than do your siblings. You respect your father and obey his words by heart. Virgo Ascendant people are very friendly and loyal to those they care for. You are very selective in friendship and prefer having fewer close friends than large group of acquaintances.

Me: Nyah nyah Daniel – it’s written in the stars: Mum officially loves me more than you! But a big yy to the parental relationships otherwise – dutiful daughter that I am – and to the whole ‘quantity over quality’ approach to maintaining friendships too. You know who you are peeps!

Health

Astrological Chart: You are the master of excellent anatomy. You will attain longevity in life. Despite this, Virgo Ascendant people are prone to worry and hypochondria. Problems with intestines and constipation can be common Virgo complaints.

Me: Constipation is seriously not an issue since adopting a Tim Spector inspired, bio-diverse, plant-based diet. Quite frankly, I’m far more likely to block the toilet these days than suffer from any supposed ‘Virgo complaints’ in that department.

Physical Appearance

Astrological Chart: There is often something ”petite” and spare about the physical appearance, especially the face, of Virgo. Their carefully measured walk, symmetrical bodies and typically youthful, innocent features are telling. You do possess a good forehead with a straight nose and have massive cheeks.

Me: Wait, is that face cheeks or bum cheeks…?!?! This is an important distinction, universe! Unfortunately, due to mild scoliosis, my walk has latterly proven more club-footed than symmetrical – but “petite” and “youthful“ are still compliments I’ll happily take!

Career

Astrological Chart: Be it the field of education, work, or business, you just want to stay ahead of everyone. Failing or lagging behind you cannot bear. Your career will thrive in dynamic, high-stakes fields where you can problem-solve and tackle new challenges. You’re drawn to professions that offer intellectual stimulation, diversity, and a danger or excitement, such as construction engineering, the military, surgery, or roles in leadership.

Me: Aside from the whole ‘fear of failure’ bit, this doesn’t resonate at all. I’m definitely not cut out for a high-stakes, high-pressure career in life-or-death decision making. I find it stressful enough when an IT system goes down on my watch – let alone coping with anything involving medical or military-grade responsibility.

Domestic Life

Astrological Chart: Disorder in the house is likely to grate on your susceptibilities. Your children will mean a great deal to you. You will work for them and give them the utmost in affection and enjoyment, and what you lavish on them will not be wasted.

Me: Well, obvs on the aversion to disorder thing, as is obvious to anyone who’s ever visited my flat before – Marie Kondo eat your heart out! Replace children with cat on the second point though, and in fairness this description is really not all that far off.

Planetary Influences

Astrology Chart: Jupiter is your most favourable planet, bringing luck, growth, and expansion to your life. Mercury is considered a challenging influence for you and you may experience difficulties with overly analytical thinking, decision-making, or mental stress.

Me: Mental note duly made not to visit Mercury any time soon.

Lucky Metal

Astrology Chart: Gold is a lucky metal for you, symbolising wealth, success and vitality.

Me: Ummm, is there anyone in the world to whom that statement would not apply – other than maybe the Brinks-Matt robbers…? I think not.

Good Years

Astrology Chart: Your good years are: 14, 23, 32, 41, 50. These years represent milestones in your life when you’re likely to experience growth, opportunity and success. There are chances that life may stay quite strugglesome till your 50s. But, things are amazing from the age of 50 to 56.

Me: Oh joy – only 7 more years to wait then. As for the other supposed “good years”, 14 was spent in peak adolescent angst; 23 joyously gallivanting around the world; 32 I bought a flat; and 41 coincided with both a pandemic and a divorce – so fair to say these represented something of a “mixed bag”. On a final note, is “strugglesome” a word…? Well, it is now…

Favourable Days and Dates

Astrology Chart: Your inauspicious day is Sunday and favourable day is Thursday. Kartik is a traditionally challenging month for you. This could mean that significant or challenging events may arise during this period.

Me: Have the stars gone insane…?!? Sunday is a bloody great day – it’s day 2 of the weekend! Agree Thursday is a good day also though, on account of the fact that it’s a) nearly Friday and b) there’s a decent chance of work drinks. As for kartik, that apparently means September – so self-evidently a good rather than a bad month, given I am invariably gifted with a generous array of birthday presents at the approximate halfway mark.

Astrological Chart: As an Earth sign, you are practical, patient, stable and reliable. You value security and prefer solid, tangible results. While you are grounded in reality, you may resist change, favouring what is familiar. Your connection to the material world gives you endurance, but you seek comfort in routine and stability.

Me: So, basically, I’m a boring old stick-in-the-mud with a hankering for routine, a tendency towards JOMO (Joy of Missing Out), and an abiding sofa attachment so deep I reckon I’ve put down roots into it at this point. Yep, sounds about right!

Yoni (Animal Instinct)

Astrological Chart: The Ram yoni indicates you have a fiery, determined nature. You can be headstrong, passionate, and driven, especially when pursuing your goals. You might sometimes clash with others when your strong will meets resistance.

Me: I was just about to deny any supposed ram-like qualities, given I am by nature very much conflict-averse. But then I remembered the state of murderous bloodlust that at times descends on the work front, where vanquishing mine enemies represents less of a professional obligation and more of a viseral, no-holds-barred personal victory. So, yeah, I guess that kinda tracks too…

The Year Ahead

Astrology Chart: The year 2025 will bring many changes and opportunities, especially related to foreign lands and new connections. You may even get a good opportunity from a faraway place, bringing benefits and happiness. However, mid-year may bring some challenges as Rahu creates confusion in partnerships and financial matters. Travel to distant places will also bring rewards and peace of mind in the second half of the year. Overall, this is a year of growth, especially with foreign associations playing an important role in your success. Keep your confidence high, and you will overcome any challenges.

Me: Hmmm, quite a few mentions of foreign opportunities there – I’m intrigued, universe. But who on earth is Rahu and why is he trying to screw things up for me…? Is he some astrological villain I need to confront? I’m all up for kicking his arse if necessary – I mean, don’t make me go and unleash my inner ram all up on you, bee-yatch.

Well, there we go – the stars have officially had their say, and I’ve had mine. As it stands, it seems the universe has me destined for overseas greatness – once I’ve survived the next few ‘strugglesome’ years ahead, that is. As for now, I’m keeping an open mind to what the future might hold – after all, the universe may yet turn out to know something I don’t…

For now, though I’ll keep on living out my often excruciatingly self-aware, archetypal Virgo existence, which – judging by precedent – means obsessively plotting every facet of my personal and professional existence via Excel spreadsheet, compulsively self-critiquing, and ensuring to keep the old bowel movements regular – while also not daring to get out of bed on Sundays from henceforth on. Anyhoo, that’s it for this time round – until then, let’s see what fate has in store for next time… 😉

So, as promised, I’m picking up pretty much where I left off in my last post. Which is to say that, while in Rome (as it were…), I decided to dip a temporary toe into Goa’s so-called spiritual waters – a decidedly brief dalliance which in the event turned out to be enlightening, eccentric and at times just downright disturbing in equal measure.

Over the last few days, I’ve supposedly had my chakras re-aligned; my stagnant prana unblocked; my inner child healed; my aura cleansed; and my negative energies collectively released. I’ve had my pressure points prodded, been gong-bathed into a state of blissful oblivion, and even had my astrological chart compiled (more on which another time maybe). I wisely resisted the urge to go in for the whole past-life regression thing though, as – let’s face it – it’s probably best I don’t confirm anyone’s suspicions about a certain Teutonic dictator with a dodgy tache any time soon… 😉

For the most part, all that aforementioned spiritual mumbo-jumbo left me about as enlightened as a spent lightbulb. That is, however, until yesterday, when – more through luck than judgement – I was persuaded to stump up a thousand odd additional rupees for a “proper” Ayurvedic massage with a bona fide practitioner – as opposed to the amateur cheapo beachfront affairs I’d been indulging in up to that point.

Holy Mary Mother of God! This was full-on sensory blitzkrieg here, complete with super-intense pressure point manipulation which practically had me seeing stars, as I alternated repeatedly between exquisite agony and euphoric release. At one point I almost thought I saw the face of God – were the all-mighty a sadist with ultra powerful digits, that is. Either way, I ended up practically floating out of the place in ecstasy, successfully resisting the temptation to propose to the silver-thumbed masseur on the spot… Not full-on spiritual nirvana perhaps, but it was about as transcendental as voluntarily submitting yourself to a form of therapeutic torture can possibly get!

It’s not all mantras and meditations, though. Goa’s spiritual offerings run the gamut from the genuinely beneficial – think yoga, meditation and massage, all deeply rooted in centuries of ancient tradition and widely recognised by the scientific and medical communities for their physical and mental benefits – down to the downright daft or harmlessly woo-woo. But lurking at the fringes is a decidedly darker side to the so-called “spiritual healing” scene, case in point being an emotional trauma workshop I naively showed up for the other day. To say this class should have come with a trigger warning is an understatement (and, in turn, I’m issuing one to you now – you have been warned!).

Long story short, the self-proclaimed guru running the class (your stereotypical American aged hippy type, who for our purposes here I will call “Deva Batshit”) turned out to be a walking cocktail of questionable beliefs at best, and downright dangerous “teachings” at worst. Among the many flavours of BS she spouted over the course of the session (of which there were far too many to unpack here), she also turned out to be bizarrely fixated on the souls of aborted foetuses – practically lightening up with undisguised glee when two ladies in the class were pressed into “confessing” to having had one. Well, according to the oracle that is Deva Batshit, these aborted “lost souls” apparently latch onto the mother’s spirit like some eternal cosmic stalker, trailing her through multiple lifetimes until they can be psychically “set free” to fulfill their true destiny and shizz. A notion that is clearly unhinged, as well as oddly reminiscent of old Catholic ideas about unbaptised babies’ souls lingering eternally on in limbo – plus ça change and all that.

For all the tongue-in-cheek tone of this post, I have to admit that, when I found myself unexpectedly bearing witness to a role-play between a tearful English woman and the spirit of her unborn child, suffice to say I knew immediately that I was seriously in the wrong place here. And as for the insidious Deva Batshit, I’m not sure if she’s knowingly exploiting people’s very real pain, or whether (as I suspect) she’s truly bought into her own nonsense at this point. Still, there’s a certain poetic justice in knowing that karma – a concept she no doubt bandies about when it suits her sales pitch – has a way of catching up with even the most fervent peddlers of snake oil eventually…

(For a far more credible and scientifically informed take on the relationship between trauma and epigenetics, I highly recommend the works of Gabor Maté, which mercifully bear absolutely no comparison to this wholly ill-informed, fantastical shit show.)

And – for better or for worse – that’s a wrap for Palolem. All in all, I’ve spent five days allegedly ‘unlocking my potential’, only to end up re-embracing my inner cynic and over-indulging in massages here – from the tame to the truly transcendental. Still, not a terrible way to spend a week (passing encounters with LSD-addled old crones aside) – and definitely in keeping with the original brief to spend more time “being” than “doing” for once on my travels.

Tomorrow it’s off to the Goan capital Panaji, where I’ll be getting back to the latter – but keeping it at a measured pace, and likely with the odd spa visit thrown in for good measure too. After all, got to keep those chakras in alignment from now on! 😉

Well, it’s been a decidedly relaxing few days here in lovely Palolem, where my aim has simply been to maintain the blissed-out state I (of sorts) managed to achieve at the Bamboo Yoga Retreat over the past week. Not that it’s been all that hard, particularly. As I mentioned in my last post, Palolem very much epitomises that quintessential Goan hippy vibe and, quite frankly, it’s not like I’m exactly over-exerting myself here much either…

The original plan had been to squeeze in a couple of day trips from Palolem, namely to the Tanshikar Spice Farm and Dudhsagar Falls. However, on weighing up the heat, hassle and high cost of getting there (both a good hour or more away) against the sheer number of beachfront spa treatments I could indulge in far more conveniently right here for the same price, I swiftly binned off that idea. After all, Dudhsagar is hardly Niagara Falls, and it’s not as if I haven’t toured my fair share of spice farms across Asia in my time either (the one in Bali, where we drank cat poo coffee, would be a pretty tough act to follow, anyhow…).

Instead, my days here have since settled into a predictable yet satisfying rhythm. Firstly, up at six for a sunrise run and to see the beach slowly but surely come to life, all while the majority of fellow tourists slumber on in their beds.

Next up later that morning, some form of Southern Indian brunch, such as dhosa, idli or aloo paratha, each accompanied by some form of sambal – plus at least one obligatory lassi in the mix, obviously!

Afternoons have typically been spent alternating between the various massages, classes or spiritual healing type workshops on offer to the itinerant Goan soul-searching contingent here. As for now though, let’s put a pin in that one until my next entry, as this definitely warrants its own separate post in another day or two’s time…

Back in the here and now though, come six pm-ish and you’ll typically find me sundowner in hand and shooting the breeze with other travellers in one of the many beachfront bars here. Big shout out to Claudia (if you did end up reading!) – a Canadian practitioner of Ayurvedic medicine, currently on a research trip to Goa, with whom I ended up putting the world to rights on one such memorable occasion. As promised, @Claudia, I really will try to get that pesky vata imbalance under control once I get home – now that I actually know WTF that means, that is… 😉

Eventually, dinner time rolls around, which for me usually involves a visit either to one of the many beachside restaurants or a back-street dhaba. To date, I’ve been happily working my way through the vast array of local Goan cuisine, with specialities sampled so far including prawns xacuti and various seafood thalis.

Anyway, it’s late now, and as you can tell, I’m officially fed, watered, socialised and relaxed after yet another day in paradise here. Next time, we’ll be diving more into Goa’s so-called ‘spiritual’ side, where things get a little more… ummm… intense, let’s say. Until then, namaste and catch you all up on the latest goings on soon!

Well, here we are all still alive – to the best of my knowledge at the very least… It’s times like this in life that I wish I wasn’t such an epic worrier. It’s almost like I need a practice of some sort – one with both mental and physical applications – to help discipline the mind and still the incessant mental chatter… 😉

As for now, I’ve moved on to Palolem, another white sandy beach about twenty minutes up the coast. I have to say, it was a bit of a wrench to leave the blissful Bamboo Yoga Retreat after such an idyllic last few days, but thankfully it’s “only” on to another beach at this point and not like having to return to the “real world” just yet. That said, Panaji (the Goan capital) may end up being a bit of a shock to the system when the time comes – not to mention the inevitable return to work after all this too!

Still, I genuinely had a great time at the Bamboo, and would absolutely do something like this again in future. In fact, I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that yoga retreats are to women of a certain age what youth hostels are to backpackers: i.e. a great way to meet people on the move, do something vaguely cultural / edifying by day, and then collectively converge on the bar to get a bit squiffy together by night… I even had one of the older ladies hug me last night and tell me that I’m a beautiful soul. I mean, she was four sheets to the wind at the time, but still, I’ll take it! 😉

As for Palolem, this is definitely much more how I expected a “typical” Goan beach to be, i.e. raised bamboo huts on stilts; lots of little dhabas offering curries and cocktails; and locals hawking everything from bracelets to boat trips on the beach (fortunately only minimal pressure to buy though):

After having a bit of an explore, I ended up popping into the quirky Mill café for a spot of lunch and a perusal of the local notice board. Yoga classes? Check. Art workshops? Check. Rebirthing ceremonies and past-life regression sessions? Naturally – this is Goa, after all, home of the stereotypical free-spirited, eco-conscious, yoga-pant-wearing, New Age type Western travellers, who flock here in search of spiritual nirvana… or maybe just a good Instagram post. My lunch – a turmeric and ginger lime soda and a chickpea and feta paratha wrap with pomegranate and vegan mayo – wasn’t exactly authentically Indian here. But it was, however, very much authentic “hipster wanker”…. 😉

Needless to say, I won’t be signing up to revisit any past lives any time soon. Still, if you can’t beat them, join them, I suppose… Personally speaking, I’ll happily stay on the whole wellness / ‘spirituality’ bandwagon here over the next few days, in the form of a few deep breathing exercises, the odd turmeric latte, and a good pressure point massage or two – achieving zero actual enlightenment along the way, of course… 😉

Anyway, on that note, that’s it for today – until next time!

Well, a few days on and – much to my own surprise – I find myself having very quickly surrendered to the serenescent influence of the Bamboo Yoga Retreat, which (as I alluded to in my last post) is turning out to be something of a paradise on earth… I never imagined I’d so effortlessly slip into the daily rhythm here, which – bar the odd spa treatment – runs pretty much exactly the same here every day, with only the type of yoga classes held and food served really changing… In addition to the below schedule, you can also take as read in my case that 6am is “run time” and 6pm “wine time”. Yin and yang and all that… 😉

But seriously, I did not expect to so readily adapt to this somewhat hypnagogic new routine – not given my usual nature as incurable control freak and life-long high-octane traveller. And yet, contrary to expectations, I’m absolutely loving the sense, for once, of being truly unburdened of the constant decision making, logistical planning and necessity of getting oneself from A to B (which, as anyone who’s read my Japan posts knows, collectively constitute the mainstay of a usual “Sarah trip”). By contrast, what to do, what to eat, when to sleep, etc., are all pretty much pre-decided for me here, with the most challenging decision being which spa treatment to book in for the day… Even the yoga and meditation classes are, I suspect, more a means of “structuring nothingness” than representing a true end in themselves – merely providing a way of punctuating the day, while otherwise allowing one’s mind to simply drift off into blissful oblivion…

As for the yoga, it turns out that pretty much everyone – bar the “top tier” of yoga enthusiasts here – found that initial power yoga session seriously hard too (or, sensibly, opted to sit it out altogether), which made me feel rather better after my previous, somewhat frustrated post. As predicted, I’ve definitely gotten much more out of the slower-paced sessions, where – rather than having to try to juggle multiple movements in quick succession (no chance!) – you maintain a single pose for up to several minutes at a time, “breathing in” to the stretch and allowing yourself to slowly but surely relax your muscles in the process. This was something of a revelation in itself, as I realised in doing so just how much stress and tension I’ve been seemingly hanging on to without realising. I also found the guided meditation sessions (where you focus on someone’s voice) surprisingly resonant too – as opposed to those spent sitting in the lotus position endlessly chanting ‘ohmmm’, which, quite frankly, just left me feeling a bit silly.

I wouldn’t say I’d had any grand epiphanies per se here, but could definitely see myself going in for a bit of slow flow hatha or yin yoga once back – though it remains to be seen how far that actually sticks on home turf. After all, it’s one thing doing a relaxing yoga class to the slowly setting sun and the calming sound of waves crashing against the sand:

Quite another, however, to try and replicate it at home, lying on the living room floor while keeping one ear out for the lodger and being repeatedly jumped on by the cat…

As for now though, I’m enjoying my stay here beyond expectations – with the only downside to speak of being Putin seriously pissing on my chips over the course of the last 24 hours. After all, it’s hard to stay fully “in the moment” while world leaders threaten global thermonuclear annihilation, which I’m hoping against hope represents “just” the usual posturing and bluster here…

Anyhoo, tomorrow marks my last full day here before I move further up the coast to nearby Palolem. I’ll admit, I’m almost sorry to leave – but I figured I’d still post today in the interim though, just in case it all goes boom in the next 24 hours. In which case, I’ve had a good innings and will at least be going out on a high… well, until the radiation poisoning and/or fallout make it to remote south-western India, that is….

And on that cheerful note, I’ll say goodbye for now, and hopefully post again from Palolem in a few days’ time… Fingers well and truly crossed till then!

Namaste. I am writing this blog post to you, mere mortals, from a higher plane of consciousness, one where – through the transformative power of asana and dhyana* combined – all truths of the world have revealed themselves unto me, and body, mind and spirit now align as one… Ohhhhmmmm.

Or not! So far, I am obviously yet to get anywhere near nirvana, or even getting much of a handle on yoga as a practice either, truth be told. The high-intensity “power yoga” type sessions I’ve had so far have been both a) too technically challenging for me to fully keep up with, and b) closely accompanied by a stream of consciousness internal monologue which in my case ran something like this: Why can’t I frikking do this? Oww, this really hurts. I’m hungry. And rubbish everything. How much longer can this class bloody go on for? Maybe I’m undiagnosed dyspraxic? I’d seriously kill for that instructor’s abs. I’m such a numpty. How many steps have I done so far today? I wonder what’s for lunch later? Mmmm, chai masala… What time is it right now in Seoul? I wonder how work is getting on? – and so on and so forth ad nauseum….

Still, the meditation bits I can at least get behind – not that my brain in any way deems fit to dial down the incessant running commentary for the occasion (it doesn’t), but at least I’m actually lying down in the process – as opposed to inwardly berating myself for failing to successfully move beyond any yoga position other than sodding ‘downward dog’…

Still, tomorrow is another day though! The beauty of this place is that they apparently vary up the style of yoga from class to class, so – while the last couple have been undeniably pretty intense – there are also sessions coming up that are based on more “slow flow” type movements, where it’s more about holding static poses for minutes at a time, rather than transitioning dynamically from one pose to the next in quick succession (which is where I always seem to come rapidly unstuck…).

Whether I ultimately end up catching the yoga bug or not here though, the Bamboo Yoga Retreat itself is still absolute paradise on earth. Unbelievably, we pretty much have an entire mile long stretch of white sandy beach and warm water ocean almost entirely to ourselves here, being shared only with a local fishing village at the far end. This means: no shops, no vendors, no hassle, no noise, no interruptions, no one hawking tourist tat, etc., just idyllic, unspoiled Indian coastline – the kind of place I didn’t think still even existed in today’s over-touristed, late-stage capitalist world! Despite the warm water, attempts to swim here were short-lived though; the sea was deceptively strong, and on consideration I’d prefer not to drown myself on this trip – at least not so early in at any rate.

So, fair to say that Bamboo Yoga Retreat is very much my kind of place: calm, quirky and well-run, with both bar and spa on-site, friendly fellow travellers to hand, as well as fantastic bio-diverse vegetarian food and plentiful chai masala (my personal amber nectar of the moment) on offer for brunch and dinner daily.

As we have clearly established from all the above, I am not exactly the type to wind down easily (understatement of the year!). All that being said though, yoga aside, there’s no denying that this place clearly has a definite magnetic relaxation pull of its own here. And, let’s face it, if I’m ever going to learn to truly chill the eff out – or at least stop fucking swearing at myself – right here certainly feels like the perfect place to start… 🙂

* Sanskrit for postures and meditation

^ I can’t take credit for this title btw. I ran the draft of this post through ChatGBT, and this it what it came up with. Not bad, GenAI, not bad at all…

Well, I’ve at long last made it to Goa (Polem beach, to be exact) after best part of 24 hours’ travel and zero sleep – so knackered is not the word at this point…

Still, the journey went smoothly enough, with both flights being on time and airport immigration proving remarkably efficient – though my transfer from international to domestic terminals at Mumbai did admittedly seem to put the inexplicable cat amongst the pigeons amongst the airport staff on site there. At one point, my boarding pass was being officiously passed around, scrutinised and hotly debated amongst at least half a dozen security agents, before they at long last concluded that, yes, I was indeed in the right place after all (which quite frankly I could have told them myself…).

On leaving the airport, it was immediately right back into the fray that is India: i.e. constantly blaring car horns, traffic flows seemingly with a mind of their own, little old ladies hawking all manner of items along the roadside, and cows bloody everywhere!

Fortunately, after a looong drive through unending green fields of pine trees and rice paddies, I reached the Bamboo Yoga Retreat, my abode for the next several days and genuine oasis of calm amidst the chaos. It was getting dark by the time I rocked up, so I couldn’t take any decent pics, but here are a few from t’interweb to give you an idea…

The plan is to stay here for the next six days, with the (possibly wishful thinking) aim of finally cobbing on to what other people seem to see in yoga and meditation – two practices I sense would likely do wonders for my ridiculously overactive brain, but which, despite best efforts over the last couple of years, I have spectacularly failed to master myself on home turf so far. My thinking goes that, if I can’t make even a little headway on a beautiful, secluded beach in India, the very birth place of yogic tradition, then it’s probably just not meant to be – but at least I’ll know I have given it a proper go while here at any rate….

That being said, a very much earthly distraction from these lofty goals has been thrown into the mix already! I had assumed that Bamboo Yoga, given all its blurb on spiritual health, physical wellbeing and mental harmony etc., would be dry as a bone (not counting the usual array of various herbal teas…) – but apparently not! There is in fact a fully-stocked beach bar on site after all, and – well – when in Rome and all that…

And so, unsurprisingly, that is where I’m now officially headed to grab a much needed drink after such a long journey and hopefully get chatting with some of my fellow retreat goers, who – as predicted – seem to be universally female, middle-aged, middle-class, and probably in the midst of a midlife crisis to boot… In short, I’m sure I’ll fit right in! 😉

Anyhoo, that’s it for now – till next time!

* ‘Namaskar’ rather than ‘namaste’, as that’s apparently how it’s said in Konkani, the local Goan dialect.