Puri Sunrise by Carl Parkes
It's been a helluva long time since I visited Goa, but I've been hearing depressing stories for many years, that Goa had gone upscale and was now populated with group tourists who all stayed in five-star hotels. Good news this week from the travel section of the New York Times, which claims that hippie culture is alive and well in the former Portuguese colony. But only the Times could write a three-page article about Goa and never mentioned weed or mushrooms.
There ain't nothing like this in the real world. Come to Goa. Change your mind. Change your way. It's hard to imagine a better jingle for this sandy strip of India's western coast, a venerable Catholic-Hindu enclave where American hippies came to turn on, tune in and drop out in the late 1960's, and where globe-trotting spiritual seekers, party kids, flag-wavers of the counterculture and refugees from the real world have fled ever since.
It's a place where the palm trees bear a strange fruit —fliers for crystal therapy, Ayurvedic healing and rave parties — and every road seems to lead to an organic restaurant or massage clinic. At the yoga centers, postures are manipulated by top Indian and international instructors. In clubs, where trance music is the favored genre, D.J.'s carrying myriad passports provide the mix. Bodies receive needle-inked adornments at skin-art parlors; minds seek enlightenment, or at least expansion, at many meditation clinics.
New York Times Link