India awaits... And remembering my first ever visit

Bharat mata ki jai!

I'm flying to Delhi on Wednesday and travelling onwards to the Himalaya. I have had the good fortune to visit India on several occasions. It has only been a few short months since I returned from spending the  winter in Goa; the resonance of India is still alive within me.

This will be my first trip to the north. While I'm excited and nervous about venturing somewhere new; I know that it will be amazing.

I can't resist pausing to enjoy a moment of nostalgia and recall my first ever visit to India, back in 2002. On the surface it was quite unremarkable, yet  it was during this trip that the seeds of my spiritual awakening were sown.

When I returned to the UK, my life began to change rapidly and dramatically. And my love affair with India had clearly only just begun.

I had booked a two week holiday in Goa, flight only. It was Easter, the end of the tourist season. At that time I had no knowledge of yoga, hinduism or spirituality in any form. I was the archetypal material girl, with an adventurous spirit.

I had no specific expectations, just an open curiosity and wanting to have a pleasant time on the beaches. In my early thirties I was carefree, enjoying the adventure and tried out a selection of beaches: Anjuna, Vagator, Colva, Benaulim.

I remember that I paid far too much for a sarong, tasted a highly memorable prawn biryani and almost succumbed to a holiday romance with a guy from Milton Keynes who belonged to a wedding party.  I travelled as a stone skimming the ocean, kissing the surface of each place before moving on.

Happy days at Palolem Beach Resort

Then I reached Palolem, a beach village in the far south and everything changed. My taxi discharged me where the dirt road ended, in front of Palolem Beach Resort.

I loved playing the hippy, although I had ample funds and money was not a consideration in my choices. So I made a large canvas tent my a temporary domicile and stayed for six or seven days.


I was so very happy: the compound felt like home with a fairly decent restaurant and a super quaint beauty salon, really a hut. I remember getting my hair washed and dried, it took forever as there wasn't really enough power for the blow dryer, which kept stopping, then we would wait a few minutes and try again.

I was charmed and delighted. Palolem beach is utterly gorgeous with stunning natural scenery. Although I haven't returned, I  gather that it is currently popular with honeymooners and couples (ahh!) and that prices have increased and inevitably, development has taken place. I'm pretty sure too that it would still be magical.

I lucked out with two fantastic neighbours: Josh from Leeds and Aaron from Israel. I developed an instant crush on Josh: a northern accent always makes me go weak at the knees.

Josh was handsome with floppy dark hair that played around his eyes. He was tall. Most of all he was relaxed, confident and came to Palolem for THREE WHOLE WEEKS EVERY YEAR.

Palolem beach at sunset

This was mindblowing to me and extremely seductive: imagining hanging out in Paradise for THREE WHOLE WEEKS with nothing to do except relax!

I was living a very tightly contained existence of career, mortage and zero flexibility. My time was most definitely not my own. Josh was living the dream!

Aaron was thoughtful, sensitive and deeply passionate about ecology and conservation. He definitely had a tight budget; I remember him counting rupees in his palm and making tough decisions about what and where he could eat.

We hung out together as a three. Josh smoked dope, so he was going nowhere fast. Because of my sentiments towards him (unexpressed!) I was happy to hang out too, in plastic bucket chairs in front of my tent, making my way through Vanity Fair (the novel).

Then one day, a key event. The resort was being extended and labourers were constructing huge concrete slabs upon which the tents were erected. I watched, mesmerised as a slender, dark skinned local wearing only a lunghi transported sand to be mixed into cement. He was carrying the sand in a small woven basket on his head. This made no sense to me!

I called over to Josh, Hey look at that guy! He should get a wheelbarrow, it would be so much quicker. It was Aaron who answered me, You've missed the point totally. So he gets a wheelbarrow and works ten times faster. Then what?  I couldn't follow his line of reasoning and so, somewhat baffled returned my attention to the frivolous escapades of Becky Sharpe.

I taxied out of Palolem with great sadness, so much so that a powerful surge of emotion erupted from within. I had never felt anything quite like it and was terrified.  I was out of control! Crying and sobbing violently, my tears and grief could not be suppressed.  

I believe that this first visit to Goa catalyzed the great shift that was to follow: an emotional breakdown, the irrevocable dissolution of my seemingly perfect existence. Part of me had awakened and my life would never be the same again.

Thank you for reading.  I have enjoyed revisiting my past.  I am looking forward to blogging the next chapter in my Indian odyssey as time and technologies permit. I hope that you will keep me company as I travel.

Peaceful blessings

Jennifer