— This is Friday Coffee?
— Yeah!
— By Mango?
— Yeah!
— Remixed by Paul Keeley?
— Are you a DJ too?

And then I realized. Yes, I really was in Anjuna Beach, this now worldwide-known trance scene (thanks to Above & Beyond and their label Anjunabeats) which used to be bustling with loads of illegal night-time trance parties. And yes, I was in Goa, this now worldwide-known province of India where the electronic genres of… goa and psytrance started, thanks to an incredible number of crazy Israeli tourists coming there to have a hell of a good time on those amazing beaches.

Obviously, they were not really the type of tourists you meet in resorts or five-star hotels. They were backpackers, with almost no money but an incredible energy and no need for comfort. I, too, thought I was one, but really, I think India still lowered my comfort standards. Good thing I went there, I guess.

View Round-the-world trip in a larger map

I got down of the train in the little morning. Margao Station. I made my way to the town center, two kilometers further, with my bag on the back, under a heavy sun that even knocked down dogs and… goats?!? After getting lost in the streets, as per usual, I saw a bus coming right at me with a “Benaulim” sign written on a cardboard in front of it. I waved at him, asked “Benaulim?”; the ticket guy nodded and I jumped in.

Oh yeah. The ticket guy. Well, in Indian buses, there are at least two guys in it: the driver, and one or more ticket guys, who ask you where you go and sell you tickets once you are sitting. Makes it easier for the driver, who only has to worry about dodging cars, bikes and people, and stopping when the ticket guy whistles. And Indian people are awesome at whistling. And at dodging stuff on the road too.

And I arrived in Benaulim Beach, a quiet, peaceful little town near the beach, that seemed to have as many foreigners with backpacks than actual inhabitants. I dropped my bag in Rosario’s Inn, a guesthouse run by a tranquil family, before heading to the beach and sipping lassis (Indian yoghurt shakes) on a sunbed.

I had planned to stay only one night. I stayed three.

But then it was time to move; I had not much time in India and I knew it. But I could not leave the province without going to Anjuna Beach, and see the trance-pumped parties of Northern Goa. A kind of musical pilgrimage, if you want. So I moved again, taking a bus to Margao, then to Panjim, and then, finally, to Anjuna.

I only found expensive guesthouses, as this place was pretty touristic, even for Indians. I was a bit hopeless until I stumbled upon an American backpacker in one of the guesthouses I visited. He was sitting down in the restaurant, finishing his lunch.

— So you’re looking for a cheap place?
— Yeah! Do you know one?
— Well, the guesthouse I’m staying at is only Rs150 per night (US$3.30/2.5€). I’m leaving this afternoon, so, if you want, you can have my room.
— What? Hell yeah I’m taking it!
— It’s dirty though – that’s why it’s cheap.
— Well, don’t worry… I think I’m getting used to dirt.

I thought I was getting used to dirt. And I learned ten minutes later that when a backpacker tells you it is dirty, well, you can trust him. It actually is dirty. What I can say is that I had at least a relatively clean bed, and that was everything I needed. On top of that, there were no fleas and bedbugs. So why complaining?

I just took a few steps out of my room, in the direction of the beach, when I stumbled (again!) on two backpackers I had met in the Red Shield House, in Mumbai: Wilson and Lloyd, from Wales. These two guys were on a party/hungover/party again loop. I joined them; and later, we were also joined by two English girls as well. I had planned to stay only one night. I stayed three.

One thing I will remember, though, is my feeling when I brushed my teeth, right after I woke up every morning (well, every noon), sitting down on the edge of the cliffs, with only this wide-open immense space of sea in front of me.

Apparently, Anjuna is pretty known for its flea market, so before leaving, I decided I would take a walk there, just to see how it looked like – wasn’t gonna buy anything to get my backpack even heavier. Well okay, it was huge, but still, that ultra commercial, so-touristic and so-not-genuine area made me feel bad after half an hour of wandering. That was way too long, to think of it. What a waste of time. I got back on the edge of the rocks on the beach, in front of the sea, and happily let my thoughts fly away.

Again, I packed my stuff; again, I said goodbye to my friends; again, I got in a long-distance bus, direction Mumbai, where I would look for another one to Udaipur, Rajasthan. My next destination. Because I had to head North. Because I had to make my way to Delhi.

Because, again, I had to move forward.

Bonus Track(s): Mango – Friday Coffee (Paul Keeley Remix) and, just for your culture, Above & Beyond – Anjunabeach (Original Mix). And for your culture too, it is not a progressive track as the description says but an uplifting trance one. And Friday Coffee is progressive house, goddammit.

Bonus Track 2: Cutscene from Cairo airport.

My flight-problem curse stroke again. As I presented my passport to the custom officer, he found out I entered twice in Egypt with only one visa (I did not know it was single-entry – damn, they should write it on it).

— This stamp means you can only stay near Taba.
— So what can I do?
— You’ve got to flight out from Taba.
— WHAT

Let us freeze the time (so that you can imagine my horrified face a bit longer). My thoughts ran like this.

I’ll-need-to-fly-from-Taba-Too-far-Need-at-least-one-day-to-get-there-No-way-to-change-my-flight-date-that-quickly-Anyway-can’t-change-the-departure-airport-Damn-I’m-gonna-miss-my-flight-The-following-flights-are-gonna-get-cancelled-I’m-gonna-lose-2,800€-No-there-should-be-another-way-It-can’t-be-happening

The officer surely saw the level of horror on my face too, because he said a few seconds later:

— Wait a moment, I’m gonna check.

And he checked. And I waited. Nothing was happening in my head this time, as I already thought everything I had to think I guess. Everything was relying on that officer. And he came back.

— Okay, you can buy another visa right now and we’ll stamp your departure on it.

I am a bit scared of what will happen on the day my curse will win.