Even on the night of departure, India had one last surprise in store. The only three-wheeled auto-rickshaw I manage to flag down on the main road is already loaded with a towering stack of newspaper bundles. Still, they squeeze me in beside the pile. Curious, I wait to see where the newspapers are headed. We soon stop at a large gate guarded by security staff, who inspect both the delivery and — somewhat amused — me. The gate opens, and the newspapers are unloaded at a luxury

Together with two German travelers, Isabel and Helena, I set off toward the southern tip of Mumbai using the city’s suburban train network. The girls head straight into the women-only carriage, while I squeeze into the general men’s compartment for a 45-minute ride in what feels like a moving sauna. Packed shoulder to shoulder, barely able to move — an authentic Mumbai commuting experience. Isabel and Helena are strong, independent German women. Like all white travelers — mys

A week in Goa comes to an end — in fitting style. At 6 a.m., I return from my final party and calculate that I have just enough time for a quick 30-minute nap before heading to the airport. I wake up one hour and twenty minutes later. That’s 50 minutes after my first alarm went off. No time to think. I grab my things and rush to the taxi stand. No car taxis in sight. Which means only one option remains: a motorbike taxi. So once again, I strap my backpack on and climb onto th

My final day in Goa feels both relaxed and slightly surreal — which, in a way, perfectly sums up India. On the beach, I come across something you might only see here: a couple of men inviting passersby to watch a video message from the local spiritual speaker Prem Rawat — right there on a laptop in the sand. “Only in India,” I think to myself. Spiritual outreach meets beach life. I take a long walk along the shoreline, quietly claiming a stretch of sand as my own. After a wee

Today I decide to walk from Anjuna to Vagator — a short coastal hike that turns out to offer far more than just exercise. From a hill near Anjuna village, the view opens up beautifully. The Arabian Sea stretches endlessly, palm trees sway below, and the coastline curves in dramatic red cliffs. Goa has a landscape that feels both tropical and rugged at the same time. The Portuguese influence is still clearly visible here. Churches dot the landscape, and Christianity remains an

The party starts early in the evening, with a Hindu DJ named Ravi setting the tone. Goa once again proves that beach life and nightlife are closely intertwined. There, I meet two Indian medical students. One of them, Anut, tells me she is in her fifth year. “I study all the time,” she says. “There’s no time for anything else.” In India, she explains, constant studying — and later constant working — is essential. Otherwise, you simply don’t get anywhere. Our conversation drift

Earlier in the day, I ordered fish with rice, thinking that being by the sea would guarantee fresh seafood. It didn’t. Lesson learned: proximity to the ocean does not automatically equal freshness. But the real highlight of the day came in the evening. On Saturday night, a large night market took place near Anjuna — and it turned out to be far more vibrant than the daytime flea market. As darkness fell, the area filled with lights, music, food stalls, and an eclectic mix of t

The shoreline stretches wide, framed by palm trees and low rocky cliffs. The Arabian Sea rolls in steadily, waves breaking in a rhythm that makes it easy to lose track of time. Anjuna doesn’t feel overly polished or commercial — it has a slightly rough, relaxed charm that makes it easy to settle into. At one end of the beach, a group of local boys are playing cricket — India’s undisputed national obsession. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a proper field, a narrow alley, or a s

Today we head to Vagator Beach. Compared to Anjuna, it feels a little wilder — fishing boats resting offshore, red cliffs rising behind the sand, and fewer crowds. On the beach, life moves at its own pace. A stray dog wanders nearby — friendly during the day, we’re told, but apparently far less approachable at night. A cow strolls casually along the shoreline, as if it owns the place. In India, even beaches are shared territory. There I meet Peter Symmer from Chile — judging

Life in Anjuna quickly settles into a rhythm. During the day, I wander around the village or spend hours at the beach. In the evenings, I head to one of the beachside venues with large terraces, where parties take place almost every night — each weekday hosted at a different location. The music is mostly electronic: Goa trance and similar genres. Not exactly my favorite, but these parties are undeniably part of Goa’s identity — a living remnant of its long-standing beach and

In the morning, I brush the red dust of New Delhi off my nice blue shoes, board a GoAir flight, and head south to the state of Goa. Stepping out of the airport, I’m greeted by warm, tropical air — humid, heavy, and unmistakably coastal. I know my chosen beach village is about an hour away, so I start looking for affordable transport. A local man offers a motorcycle taxi. No better option appears, so I climb on. For the next hour, we slalom between cars, weaving unpredictably

A special day: I am about to see the last of the New Seven Wonders of the World — the Taj Mahal. From New Delhi, Agra is only a couple of hours away by early-morning or late-evening express train. At other times of day, the journey can take four hours or more. I opt for the faster connection and arrive in Agra early in the morning. While having breakfast near the railway station, a gentleman approaches me and asks whether I would like to share a taxi back toward New Delhi lat

India is home to 1.2 billion people — one sixth of the world’s population. And yet, from afar, how little we truly know about it. A bit of history. Hinduism. A frail man named Gandhi who led a nonviolent independence movement and was later assassinated. Economic growth. Bollywood. At 4:20 a.m. on April 5, the wheels of a Turkish Airlines plane touch down in New Delhi. The first hour disappears while I wait for luggage that never arrives. Then half an hour in a baggage claim q