Some villages in the northern coastal belt of Goa come alive at sunset and go to sleep at dawn, thus helping another layer of the economy survive the day’s 24 hours.
Tourism, in this manner, keeps the heartbeat of Goa ticking 24x7. And though it can be an irritant to the locals, life has to go on.
It is 2 am and Ashok from Sindhudurg is glued to his mobile. Time and again, he bursts into laughter, making it obvious he is enjoying what he is watching.
“I shut my shop early in the morning. There is no pattern in the flow of business, but I make enough to survive and save. Working at night is my best source of income,” he says, as he awaits clients on a busy weekend on the coastal belt.
Ashok’s clients arrive in four-wheelers, two-wheelers and on foot, looking for action or returning from action during odd hours of the day.
“It is an irritant during the monsoon, but once the arrival of tourists gets steady, clients keep dropping in at regular intervals. Since, I am the only one available through the night, I end up with a lot of tips,” says Ashok who sells cigarettes, sweets, water and assorted snacks at the edge of a beach visited at the night.
Ashok’s clients arrive in four-wheelers, two-wheelers and on foot, looking for action or returning from action during odd hours of the day.
“There is no point getting scared to stay awake so late into the night because this is my only way to make a living,” he admits.
A few kilometres away, a brother keeps watch as his sister nods off on a chair by the side of a table, on which are perched bottles of petrol and water. A few metres away, a stove used to make omelettes.
The traffic along the road is constant, and customers stop at regular intervals asking for the cost of a snack or even for a bottle or two of petrol. “We didn’t expect the petrol pump to remain closed at night,” says the driver of a two-wheeler as Roy hands over a bottle of mineral water filled with petrol.
“I sell a bottle for Rs 120 at night and sell quite a few litres every night. Some of my clients are regular nightbirds who work from home,” confesses Roy.
Stalls selling cigarettes, petrol, snacks and even meals are part of the ecosystem that has been bred due to tourism. “There was a time when we could find motorcycle pilots right through the night,” reckons Alex from Italy as he walks towards his rented home from a late night eating out.
“In the 1980s,” mutters the senior citizen for whom Goa is a second home during the winter in his country, “there were pilots (motorcycle taxis) available through the night, and they were reliable guys. I could reach home safely with a pilot after a few drinks.”
“Goa has always been a safe place, day or night, and this is why I keep coming back despite other countries being cheaper. I am part of the locals or rather my second family is here. Sometimes, I feel this is my home,” says Susana as she picks up a bottle of water.
“You can get what you want here (Anjuna) at any time of the day if you know the right person. The people are so friendly and good. I do not fear feeling unwell at night, confident that my landlord will get up to help,” she says as she walks to her room.
As the village seems asleep, distant drum beats waft from various corners, lending a different element to nightlife in coastal Goa. Sometimes, the quiet of the night is broken by spasms of hollering in the night. There is undeniably a crop of individuals benefiting from customers who enjoy the nightlife.
This is part of the dark magic of tourism in Goa.