There’s something about being a DJ which is an aphrodisiac for the ladies. Last night was the official debut of Alpha Bar’s Silent Noise night – the flyer says Palolem’s premier outdoor nightclub. It was wicked actually, a really lovely space illuminated by purple laser beams. Earlier in the day I’d been handing out said flyers along the beach – a great way to get chatting to folk actually. Come 8.30 I was the opening act, & for two hours played mi tunes loud thro’ the speakers before the 10.30 watershed when Goa tunrs its music off. Then the headphones come into play & as the venue filled up people began dancing. I couldn’t tell if they were dancing to mine or the guy next to me. He was a nob actually, proper DJ ego, which I laid into big time. I think it was something to do with the 5-rupee sachets of 80 cl whiskey I’ve discovered – that 8p for a treble.
My compadre is this New Zealand lad – a good kid called James – who followed my disco with some New Zealand drum & bass – its not like jungle or owt, & doesnt sound like someone kicking a drum kit down the stairs, & we complemented each other finely. It was great to see folk dancing & having a good time, & singing along to the classics I squeezed in among the disco. Because its all silent, its a bit like Weatherspoons with everyone having epileptic fits – the only music one can hear is the cricket opera from the surrounding jungles.
After my set I was ‘pulled’ by this hot Dutch lady, & after a skinny dip at dawn I woke up by her on silky white sheets at her mate’s gorgeous Portuguese villa. ‘So do you have a boyfriend at home?” I asked – it turns out shes married. Apparently she’s never done it before or ever will again – it was a lot of pressure to be a charming young plaything actually. Still, proper funny. I read her a little Keats & sang a song or two like a proper cavalier servente. She’s also a top film-maker, highly respected in Holland & beyond, & with the cutest english accent I’ve ever heard. If this is what happens when ya a DJ I’m gonna think about packing in the poems!
Back at the ranch its just me & Charlie now. Fim went to Gokarna on Wednesday & the house feels a little empty. Despite starting his book about life as a London ketemine dealer, & the football games we’re playing with the kids at the school next door to us – with Charlie wearing his 1966 england world cup shirt – Charlie’s getting itchy feet. With my Dj mission in Patnem ending on a high, we’re gonna move on to North Goa.