The Best Reason to Drink Kingfisher I've Ever Heard Of.

One of the most memorable things about Goa is how beautiful some of the beaches are. Take Palolem for instance. It's been in countless movies including The Bourne Supremacy...the scene where Jason Bourne is escaping from his life and spending it in a beach hut, that was shot there. I love that movie. (Even the scene when his girlfriend's Jeep crashes over Nerul bridge into the Mandovi River where she drowns, that was shot near the place where we went Cat-fishing. Funnily enough, I watched that film on the plane coming home from our trip. Weird.)

Somebody told me, not sure if it's true, but the reason that there are no high-rise hotels on the beaches here is that Indira Gandhi decreed a law that no permanent developments should be made within 300 feet of the coast. Brilliant! At Palolem, all they've got are wooden huts on stilts hiding among palm trees. It's idyllic. However, they were beginning to spread huts onto the peninsula toward Patnem. Can't imagine what it's like now. If you look at the shot I took of the school girls, that's Palolem.

Imagine this though: you've got such beauty and then it's marred by mountains of plastic bottles chucked into heaps a way back from the beach. Tourists worry about the water here and so buy it bottled to be safe. It winds up being chucked all over the place and there isn't any infrastructure for collecting it. Seems the authorities just can't get it together to collect it all up and do something with the stuff, so there it stays, festering in the sun, whilst passing pigs and cows scavenge. Some restaurants do offer boiled water instead but I think visitors are still suspicious. You're advised not to eat salad here because of the water it's been washed in. We spent a lot of time drinking Kingfisher Beer instead (woe is me!). It's brewed in Goa and the company's owner has a massive house near Candolim we were told by our cab driver.

PIg bogs v. UK bogs?

Right, so here's the thing. You've got a perfectly good system...you go for a poo and a pig comes a long and eats it...perfectly green, perfectly recycled....no problem. Then some people from a foreign land come along and say: "Hey, if you want us to come and spend our money then you have to change a perfectly good system into a crap one!" I'm not ranting but that's what's happening. Meandering along the beach you find a sign saying : " European toilet." Roll up, roll up. This is a major selling point to encourage us to go and spend our money at this establishment: all mod cons. You enter the cubicle made of wicker and find a white porcelain bog positioned carefully over a hole dug into the sand. There's a toilet roll threaded onto a piece of string. AAAAH... HOME! As you plonk yourself down on the seat. But think carefully. What happens to your poo? Where does it go? Disposing of human waste takes water and it's water they don't have much of. Seems to me if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Club in the Sky

One night, me and my friend decided to head for the Club in the Sky or Club Cubana near Calangute. I'd read about it in the Lonely Planet Guide. It was a bit of a trek from Candolim but we did a deal with the cabbie as usual.

Inside it was hedonistic pleasure. Set on three levels on the hillside, the dance floor was small and intimate at the top. A winding path took you up. There was a bar strategically positioned in three places so you never had to wait long for a drink.

People frolicked in the swimming pool and I found my way very quickly to one of the double beds which surrounded it. I laid there all night just drinking, chatting and looking at the starry sky. Occasionally a masseur came around and gave treatments on request. This club was a piece of me until a group of English lads on a neighbouring bed started getting lary. A waiter had made a mistake with their order and one particularly odious bloke was yelling abuse at him: "Can't you understand bloody English?" he attacked.

I started to get nervous. His friends were telling him to calm down but it just made him worse. He started to lash out and got personal with one of his mates. We'd had enough. I'd had enough. What is it with the English? Must they always get so drunk they act like ass holes?

We decided to leave....the horizon was a faint glow.

Don't give pound coins to kids no matter how sorry you feel.

The day I arrived I stepped out of the Arrivals hall at Dabolim airport to be confronted by kids. Several tried to grab my wheelie case from me desperately, gesturing for money, uttering the words: "pound, pound." A tug of war ensued because I'd heard about this before but nothing prepared me for the onslaught. After a long flight like that, I was short on patience, so it was hard not to be rude, but being conscious that I was a guest in someone else's country, I had to be nice as pie. All I had on me was small change and I gave the kid a 50p piece. It was obvious he was not pleased by the frown on his face and the way he shook his head. I guessed it was because it's hard to change small coins there regardless of its local value or perhaps there was an adult driving this business. I don't know but I did feel bad believe me. A pound doesn't feel like a lot to you then but after a few weeks of being harrassed for money all the time, you become jaded. Sadly, being rude doesn't bother you any more.

After a couple of weeks in Goa and having seen some pretty amazing women, black from working in the sun all day, breaking stones on the road side, carrying baskets of rocks on their heads, I had the good fortune to meet the director of a construction company at our hotel. We got chatting and he explained it was cheaper to employ 100 women than it was to buy the parts to maintain equipment. Imagine that!

If you visit http://www.womenpaycheck.com/main/officialminimumwages/goa listed below, you'll see what I mean. There are currently 68 Rupees to a pound and those rock breaking women get about 120 Rupees a day! That's about £1.50...and people look down on them too....it's the injustice of the place that's really upsetting. If those little kids get a quid for every plane that lands in a day, they'll be making someone very rich indeed by comparison. It's not the kid's fault.

People in Goa can speak several languages. There is a high literacy level. They are hard working and never seem to stop. Towns buzz with activity; people plying their trade or discussing business.The Panaji ferry regularly crosses the Mandovi river crammed with commuters and tourists. It only costs a few Rupees and it's an ideal place to get chatting to the locals.

Whilst riding pillion early one morning, I saw kids in a playground, lined up, marching in formation. They were immaculately dressed in their uniforms and the teacher carried a baton under his arm, counting time as they went. It gave me the impression that discipline is high on the agenda in schools there. They were practising something for the School Open Day I think. It was an impressive display.

As I made my way to the beach at Candolim, I came across a group of school boys playing cricket under the shade of a huge Banyan tree. I raised my camera and they all bundled excitedly into the shot. This is one of my favourites and captures the feeling of the moment implicitly. The people of Goa display a love of life and are exuberant with it. I felt really at home there.

Right you boring lot! I thought you'd have lots to say....

One of the most mind boggling places I've been to is Goa. What I like about it is the multi-cultural thing going on: People of all sorts of beliefs living side by side. Historically, Goa has been occupied by the Portuguese, so that's where the Catholic Nuns come in I guess.

I didn't go there expecting a pristine place (although some of it was pretty darn fab). It's noisy and vibrant. The way the traffic works is really funny: there are no rules, just if you're coming up behind a vehicle larger than yourself, hoot and always give way to them at roundabouts. Other than that, the local police do stop you if you're driving a moped without a crash helmet.

The food is out of this world if you're vegetarian or pescatarian. For Thali, Vihar (Panaji) is where it's at. I did feel like a right piglet troughing away whilst the little boys mopped the floor on their hands and knees, brought me down to earth with a big bang.