Lonely Planet, you have failed me...

I have been a faithful reader and user of Lonely Planet travel guides since my tour of Europe 10 years ago. These concise and thorough books are the bible of the thinking person traveling abroad (you can use Rough Guide, but everyone knows those are for frat guys). These ubiquitous guides, often referred to as "the book" or LP, are often on tables in cafes, in hands of those walking around cities, and most cherished among the few possessions of the backpacker traveler. They are loved for their no-nonsense, straight talking summation of the world's best places. Want to go spelunking in Budapest? Lonely Planet will point you there. Want pizza in Jaipur? Lonely Planet will tell you where to go. Need to get from Calcutta to the Sundarbuns park? LP will guide you on every train, boat, rickshaw, and donkey cart you need to get there.

After having LP guide me for 4 months around Europe, 2 weeks in Japan, and a total 8 weeks in India (split over 2 trips), I am a totally devoted fan and know how to read between lines to find the really good places it has to offer. I thought I did...

Goa, on the west coast of India, is a former Portuguese colony for a total of 450 years. Most people spoke Portuguese up until a few years ago. This area of the coast about the size of Rhode Island, was liberated from Portugal in the 1960's by the Indian Army and annexed into India. Not everyone here saw it as a liberation. Nevertheless, it is a peaceful, tropical, cosmopolitan place full of Portuguese colonial charm in the buildings, food, drink, and interesting mix of people.

The Indian army wasn't the only group to invade this beautiful area of coast in the 60's, the hippies did as well. They helped to develop many of the beaches into the international party scenes they are known for today. 747s full of Europeans, Brits, and Israelis land everyday at the Goan airport at high season all looking for a good beach party. Around Christmas and New Years, they descend on the place like locusts during a hatch, sleeping on the beach and aside the road. The most famed beach that we could discern from LP and other travelers is Anjuna beach. Many people for the last month have all said "oh, have you been to Goa?? It's so wonderful, you must go to Anjuna, there is no place like it!!" We met a nice German man on the train who claimed that Anjuna was the best beach in India. Diu could not compare, according to him (please see the Flickr site for Diu pictures and decide for yourself once all the pics are up). LP described it as a "place to see and be seen" and spoke of many beach-side accommodations, restaurants, and general beach related merriment.

So after 3 wonderful days of spending time with my cousins and aunt a few kilometers away from Anjuna, we were very excited to come and see it today. The rickshaw brought us to "Anjuna beach". There was no beach there, only red rocky cliffs. Leaving Ian with the bags, I walked about 1/2 mile down the shore road to find "the best beach in India." I did not find this, but I found a brown-black beach studded with rock outcroppings (ie not a swimming beach), sewer run-off, and trash. The shore was only dry about 10 feet deep before tired looking restaurants shot up from the beach, mostly boarded up with blue tarp and dried palm leaves for the season. There were some other confused tourists looking for this "amazing" beach. The whole place felt like Bourbon street at 10am on a Tuesday in the summer.

Never have I felt so misled by my beloved LP. Maybe the scene is fun at the beach bars in high season, but the beach was worse than the one in Revere. Having seen too much of Bourbon street at 10am in college, we moved on to the very lovely Baga beach, described by LP as "overdeveloped." If in LP language, "overdeveloped" really means "a long, wide, clean, sandy beach where a guy sets up beach chairs to serve me beer", I am IN.

- Nisha