Anjuna (Goa), December 21
Antoine
biker's it, I have my bike! Sonny and Bunny, both Sikhs, I rented a beautiful black Enfield 1998. It might be less recent than the Mayor Kagal, it is in perfect condition. It is also more powerful, with 500 cc. So I can make the journey under the best conditions, they fitted me with a motor guard, luggage rack and a second mirror. It cost me 12,000 rupees for two months (less than 200 euros) and I do not have to worry about resale. In short, it's party.
By cons, learning is a bit difficult, especially booting. I find it hard to understand how we can raise the piston, before giving the shot good kick along and supported. Initially, the operation always takes me good five to ten minutes and I take some stinging returns in the foot. Often, they are Indians and compassionate jokers who eventually start to me. But once on the road, nobody knows how I got there and I tell it well, looking proud and straight back on my bike is vintage vrrlap vrrlap vrrlap between my thighs ... the first few days I'm going slowly to avoid the risk of sheer unassailable, but this goes unnoticed because the Indians never seem to exceed 50 km / h.
Chapora (Goa), December 24
Goa, land of raves
So here I am on the mythical land of tranceux. This small Indian state even gave its name to the main branch of this kind of energetic techno, trippy and melodic goa trance. Before leaving France, I read that local government works hard for years to end the festivities that chained themselves almost every day on the beaches and jungles. I come to write an article on what remains of this scene, telling his story by relating it to its origins hippies and try to understand what went wrong, why the authorities are so desperate to ruin (the article is online at the end of the blog).
On the trail of tranceux
I just know that the two legendary beaches of ravers are those of the villages of Anjuna and Vagator in the north of the state. I begin to go at large Wednesday market in Anjuna, where the sponsor of Hugo sells crafts from Asia. Curiously, I find it quite easily in the midst of this unbelievable mess of fabrics Kashmiri, Nepali statuettes, bags Rajasthan and fruit juices Goan.
Old Hippie
He did not seem very concerned with techno, but he advised me to take a turn for lunch at Banana Jo, a restaurant that brings together old hippies corner, where 8 Finger Eddie, the oldest of them from the top of his eighty-four. Duly noted. At noon pétante, I see an old man landed in a flowered shirt with a hearing aid. He tells me kindly coming in 64, when the region was home to no more than twenty-haired travelers. If the spot has quickly become legendary, it is largely because the Indians were accustomed to receive and knew the Portuguese. He speaks of the freedom that everyone in the West and dreamed that prevailed here: living with three sub sleeping under the stars, play music, lazing bare all the day, take drugs, practicing free love ... I find it too cute, this old hippie who facetious old enough to be my grandfather. At the end of the meal, as I was told it does not receive retirement, I asked him to settle his dinner, but he says that someone else is already busy. I learn later that he has nurtured for years the junkies who allowed themselves to die and in return, the elders of Goa assure him his livelihood. Meanwhile, I did not learn much about the trance, apart from the fact that Eddie loves it.
the fallen
The Anjuna Anjuna beach, across from where I boarded, has very little to do with that of the golden age mentioned by Eddie. Nor even that of the famous raves that motivate my way. Today, the narrow strip of sand lined with coconut trees is stormed by a mixture of English flabby under parasols Coca-Cola, Russians in swimming trunks who throw Frisbees, old tattooed freaks sitting yogi in their G-string and Indians all embarrassed by the waves in their pants and their saris. It is not yet the international Bidochon, but there slowly coming. Wildlife has so little interest that I flaps on a bird much more fun, confident walk quietly.
Thursday and Sunday, however, one of the beach bars, the Currley's, trance program from 17h to 22h. The dancers romp gently against the sunset, very nice my faith.
night, the beach changes ownership. So I returned to moonlight, I'm racing a dozen dogs and I do not have to hello to my calves as an early retirement protected by a bamboo pole that I had the presence of mind to take with me. I glean some info at the Paradiso, the biggest local box. A bartender tells me they do not play trance since last year, but I would do well to question two DJs from India, the Dragonboyz, who were residents for five years. I will see them directly in their house near the station. They told me that the scene is dead, because it is now forbidden to make music after 22h. They add that even in the clubs, trance is illegal, which leaves me skeptical. Then they send me back to Chapora, Vagator a nearby village, where the label Disco Valley held by Teo a Greek.
fossils
Chapora is the place I was looking for. All day, the most beautiful fossils of Goan trance to grumble about the end of the "parties" by linking the chillum at a spectacular rate. For eight to ten people, keeping three count movement chillum and three in preparation.
In addition to some lit confident that the authorities do not tolerate the freedom allowed by psychotropic substances, paranoid old refrain that runs at raves have always expected a few people I meet, that Teo, who give me interesting info on the history of holidays in Goa, music, police corruption, the reasons for the repression ... Failing to meet Goa Gil, DJ emblematic of the region, which is in Africa until spring, I find on the Internet an interesting interview with him on the genesis of goa trance. I was also a copy informative documentary called "The Last Hippie Standing", where the Prime Minister of Goa makes it clear he wants to drive the freaks because he wants to develop tourism more traditional foreign exchange earner. History of my questions directly to those concerned, call the government spokesman and the police chief. But for my preview of the scene is complete, now I need to party ... I am therefore preparing to go to the Before Nine Bar Vagator December 23 for Christmas and the next day at Hilltop, which is one of only two authorized parties of the year, with the New Year Before
to tell you this, I show you the stuff that came out of the toilet, or rather who did a little jump from the side, keeping her place in the fridge when I flushed ...
While I am, I also put the door of the laundry ...
Search the boy Imagine a large dancefloor overlooking a beautiful beach, right in alignment with the sun. In addition, the sound system is excellent. Okay, the picture, it makes weird because I took it when nobody was there, but I had to hurry before the sun goes down.
I'm happy with the clever stories about smoking joints, but in reality I'm a small player. Joints too loaded gun to me so many nights that I am wary. Anyway, on this great dance floor overlooking a beautiful beach, I feel myself let go. Tonight is Teo who mixes and although I am not very fond of trance, like a little fire to my taste, I take my foot. It's heavy, square, mental, austere, dark and very techno at the same time very smooth, really nice. So, when a chillum passes me, I tell myself that it will allow me to go deeper into the sound and I filled my lungs comfortably. Big mistake. I do not even go through the phase of euphoria two minutes later I'm completely lost. The music goes too fast, impossible to follow. Soon I am unable to stick to the pace, it would be stomping their feet on the ground. Even without moving, I do not know what position to adopt. I dare not go and sit Nor, I'd be too afraid that someone speaks to me. I just stands there, entangled in my embarrassment. I know it will eventually pass, I breathe out loud, but for now, really, it does not. Around me, everyone is dancing, I try to be discreet, invisible. After an hour, I feel a little better and finally I manage to ask me in a corner. This is the moment chosen by a tall young woman dressed in white bronze to sit next to me.
Show me stuff
She is Indian, told me in broken English of the stories I do not understand. After a moment I realized that she wants me five hundred rupees lent him until a flow of money. It would be partly for that I laid her home after the party. If I feel like it, she can show me some stuff ... I have some difficulty understanding, then it takes a knowing look. No, but it is currently soliciting me or what?! I do not know what to say, still struggling with my brain smoke. Stupidly, I do not want to offend, so I try to save time, I said that I must think. Finally, the music stops, she escorts me to the car park. I try to explain that I am willing to make a detour to her house without stopping, but I do not think she understands. So I give what I have, one hundred rupees, hoping the décramponner. Without success. Once installed it on the bike, I realize that I would be unable to bring anyone, including me. We got into a taxi and I plant in front of his door, despite her protests, under the eye of outrage driver who can not get over that I could let an opportunity to fire a shot. Tomorrow, for sure, no chillum to rave Christmas.
Chapora, December 27
Merry Christmas!
Today is Christmas Eve. A dainty nursery was installed before the chapel of Chapora, the village children are wearing red hats with white ponpon and friends kiss by wishing a merry Christmas.
I send a mail to my family that I know met. I guess the wiles of my brother to escape the mass, the excitement of my niece to her gifts. I feel a little lonely. Hours earlier, two Englishmen arriving from their island home by hitchhiking (www.nickandmaggie.com) told me how they felt as travelers Goa has beautiful to look cool, in fact it's every man for himself, the only thing that counts is to party and get laid up trapping. They had just raised the case of a young guy just barefoot wearing black jeans with dirt, the air perched in completely crushing her necklace for hours without it bother anyone except the traders who told him to go away. As it passes me, I am seized with a sudden burst of empathy. I asked him if everything goes well and, surprise, he replied, seems pretty net lending. He tells me he's hungry, he nothing to eat all day. I offer him a sandwich, he is delighted. By chewing, he tells me his name is Alexander, he is Russian, he is in India for eleven months, he lost his bag with all his belongings and his money, and he seeks work. In the meantime, I suggest already taken a shower in my guesthouse, and as it does not stop coughing, I bought him a pretty sweet cover a bit so he does not get cold at night. He is very glad. It is a cliché story of Christmas, but when all these people kissing next to us without us, it makes me good to share this little moment of warmth. Two days later, I met him again. I recognize and smile at me, showing me that it does not cover lost, arranged on his head like a scarf for sun protection.
Rave and coconut fluorescent
Chapora In the evening progresses and the street is bustling with a back-and-fro of excited people on scooters. At midnight, the atmosphere up another notch when fireworks are drawn above the coconut trees.
three o'clock, everyone becomes director of Hilltop, two kilometers away. Not crazy, this time I get into a taxi. Teo, who plays late at night, puts the whole world with him. Otherwise we would have had to pay 1500 rupees (25 euros). A price just about right for France but we dine well in India for 50 rupees ... The site is nice. This is not the jungle, but a large outdoor space surrounded by walls and secured by quarantine officers in yellow jackets. The dance floor, large enough, is lined with palm trees painted and framed by neon psychedelic tapestries. On the sides of chai mama have installed the mats on which to sit and chat, drink tea or eat a fruit. When we arrived, the Indians disco shirt and sequined sunglasses Opaque represent half of the 2000 attendees, giving the evening an amazing Bollywood touch. But at dawn, they leave room for the regulars, many of which are outside the bed. The boys are beautiful, naked torsos adorned with tattoos esoteric scholars, their dreadlocked son of enhanced colors fluttering in the raking light. Some follow the music with a big stick, turning it indefinitely on their arms and shoulders. The most dancers seem to be the fiercest Japanese, bouncing like rubber front of the speakers by stomping their feet bare. But it is girls that impress most. Fresh, smiling, nice to fall into the slit skirt, asymmetrical top, backless silk negligee and vibrant. All day, the dancefloor is as glamorous and dynamic never empties while the sun goes over the heads. No doubt, the energy of Goa is still there, she asked for an opportunity to express themselves.
Fifteen hours on the dancefloor
With the exception of two Brest well cool with whom I discussed a moment, I do not know anyone. So I too almost never stop dancing. And when it comes to fatigue, I think my chance to be here, I began to travel, the adventures that await me. While the euphoria overtakes me and I jump off again in the clouds of red dust. In all, I spent almost fifteen hours straight on the dancefloor, it was a good ten years since I had not dropped like this. By mid afternoon, I realize that the soles of my sandals purchased the previous week started to yawn and I withdrew. Despite the sun, the temperature soil is quite bearable for bare feet, an Indian employee with the delicacy of the water regularly. By late afternoon, the music begins to degenerate, the melodies are more vapid and breaks more frequently. The sun is getting ready for bed, I decided to follow suit.
After a shower and a snack, I end my rave beauty of Christmas with a passage by the firm relaxology of Chapora. The masseur am applying pressure points on the feet, calves, knees. When it comes to the head, I fall asleep, but I'm sure my body continues to benefit. Half an hour later, I leave to my bed, numb with sleep, the muscles a little less stiff, ready to fall into a long night.
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