Florescent painted trees hung with bizarre ornaments . . . Black lights illuminating glowing dancers . . . Huge sound systems . . . A multitude of travelers from around the globe . . . Wealthy Indian businessmen from Bombay . . . Poor beggars from the field next door . . . and holy men from across the Sub-Continent. What do all these elements and people have in common? They all converge on Goa -- in bamboo groves and the beaches -- for all night and into the next day trance-dance techno parties.
Swedish Eva dancing well into the morning.
The parties have become quite popular as of late. Since they happen during the Christmas holidays, Goa techno parties have begun to attract loads of curious Indian tourists, mostly drunken men. As a result, the raves don't really get kicking until four or five in the morning when all the pesky drunks have passed out.
The Indian horn player and his dancing cow. People would pay him just to shut up.
Fueled by psychedelic drugs, the ravers shake their bones under the hypnotic spell of DJ wizards. As the parties wind down late in the morning, the ravers relax by drinking chai and eating snacks in nearby fields. The following exodus is to the beach, then a 14 hour crash-hibernation to rest up for the next party.
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