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Steel Notes Magazine the rest of the country .
When I arrived in Goa ’ s capital , Panjim , I met a man at the station who offered me a room in Calangute Beach . I was always wary of touts offering rooms , or anything else , but I trusted this guy enough to at least go and see . The room was upstairs in a large house . It was a short walk to the beach and the Bella Vista Restaurant , for 10 rupees , less than a dollar back then .
The bathroom was off a courtyard downstairs . There was no running water . The well in the courtyard was deep and good , and to take a shower I ’ d fill a bucket at the well , pour it into a cistern , get under it and open the valve . It worked just fine .
Goa has a beautiful coastline , and the white sand beach at Calangute was long and wide .
When I was there , in 1979 – 80 , it was a hippie haven . Europeans would come en masse during the winter months . Drugs were freely available . The broad beaches were the scene of nudity , drug taking , and every full moon and for Christmas and New Years Eve there would be huge all-night raves at Anjuna Beach .
Rock bands would come over from Europe . I heard Ian Dury ’ s “ Sex , Drugs and Rock & Roll ” so much it became a soundtrack . A bandstand would be set up on the beach , with a dance floor . Indians would set up chai and food stalls scattered along the beach , which was speckled by what looked like thousands of candles flickering in the sand . Each candle surrounded by groups of travelers , you ’ d hear the cry , “ Boom Shankar ,” and chillums would swirl around what seemed like a million circles .
In the morning the sun would rise on a gypsy encampment . Blankets , sarongs , lungis and mats spread on the beach . Everywhere glitter and satiny sparkle , as sunrise chillums are passed around candles melted into the sand and still burning against the new sunlight . People dance , some strip and run into the sea , others turn over in their sleep .
One party we had was at Aronbol , where there was a lake close to the sea . Some of the tribe had set up an elaborate structure where they were living . We could swim in the lake , and the ocean . The palm trees and sand made it look like an oasis in an Arabian nights tale .
Often when I think of Goa from that period I think of the term Woodstock Nation realized . In many ways that ’ s how it seemed . People dressed in their fantasy of hippie nation , with loose fitting , colorful Indian cottons , with turbans and headscarves , bare feet and jewelry . There was all the dope you could want or need , good cheap food and accommodation . As I said , nudity , although frowned upon by the Indian authorities , was commonplace .
I had several encounters and liaisons in Goa , including Wendy the Acid Queen . Wendy would come over every year from London , with plenty of psychedelics , and have a house in Goa . We had a brief but memorable liaison . Roger Moore and a film crew were there making a film , “ The Sea Wolves ,” and we partied at Wendy ’ s house .
I forget the names of the three Americans I met there . A couple of them landed roles as extras in the film . There were travelers / tourists . They were the only Americans I remember meeting in two years of travel in India .
I liked the American guys , but there was a strange distance and closeness between us . To me , they seemed just
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