Arambol - born to be wild (aka the moped diaries)!

Hello! Right now I'm sat in the most uncomfortably sweaty internet cafe I've ever been in. I'm at Madgaon railway station in Goa, waiting to catch the train back to Delhi. Outside, swarms of rickshaws ferry passengers to and from the station while the sun covers the swathes of palm trees in afternoon heat. I can't believe five weeks have passed already. Soon I will be leaving India.

Goa was brilliant. I can't wait to go back. So much happened since I last wrote! Let's start with Friday evening: I wandered down the street in Anjuna, looking for a cheap fly-blown place to drown my sorrows for an hour or two, and I spotted a sign on a doorway: 'Live music - Peter from Australia!' Suitably intrigued, I jumped from the saddle of my metaphorical horse and headed inside.

Inside was a restaurant (not a metaphorical one, a real one), and I sat down and ordered prawn curry. Peter, a youngish musician guy around my age, was performing cover songs on guitar for the assembled diners. It's rare to hear Western music anywhere in India so I sat back to enjoy some familiar tunes with a beer.

After his gig I got talking to him and asked him where was fun to go. He told me to head to Arambol (20 miles up the coast) and check out the traveller scene, and then visit a banyan (fig) tree out in the forest where lots of hippies live!

Peter is travelling round India for several months and - talk about a dream job - earns his keep performing at the restaurant five nights a week! He gets enough money from playing guitar and singing to continue travelling as long as he wants, visa permitting. I think that is an awesome thing to do. You don't always need a plan when you travel, just head off on the road and try to use your talents and abilities to earn money! (I am an expert lover and also a skilled assassin. I think this will earn me lots of money.)

We hit it off pretty well and after his gig he offered me a lift on his moped. We visited the nearby town of Chapora (which buzzes with travellers at night-time) then stopped at an outdoor nightclub in Vagator to watch a gymnastic and juggling show. I learned later it was the finale of a four-day international juggling festival! There was a special energy in the crowd; it reminded me of the first time I visited the Sziget festival in Hungary and saw people partying in forest glades without an advert in sight.

Galvanised by my nocturnal moped experience (I'd never ridden on a motorbike before), I headed out the next day in search of a scooter to hire. Public transport in Goa is patchy at best so to explore properly, you need to rent your own transport. I struck a bargain to rent a shiny new Honda Activa bike for three days at the bargain price of 500 Rupees (less than a tenner). 240 more Rupees secured me a full tank of petrol. I quickly acclimatised myself to the bike's controls and off I flew down the road to Arambol!

Elsewhere in India I would recommend you never ever try and drive. The roads are extremely busy (especially in the big cities) and the motorists are lunatics. But Goa has much quieter roads than anywhere else I've been and it's reasonably safe to drive yourself - all the tourists do. And when in Rome, do as the Romans do - beep your horn at anything in sight and go as fast as you f**king want! As you speed past a beautiful field lined with palm trees, with the wind rushing through your hair, you realise what it is like to be truly free.

Shit, my time is up... my train leaves in 30 minutes. I have to collect my luggage. I'll continue the Goa story once I return to Delhi. Bye for now!