More than 25 years of package tourism has guaranteed that there is little left to draw you to Calangute apart from ATMs, some decent restaurants and a quirky hexagonal barbeiria (barber’s shop) at the northern roundabout. In the 1960s, the village was short-hand for the alternative life, but the main feature of the streets today is their messy Indian take on beach commercialism. Shops peddle every- thing from cheap ethnic tat to extravagant precious gemstones. The shacks on the beach serve good food and cheap beer and most fly the St George’s Cross in tribute to Calangute’s charter coin. Between the busy beachfront and the grubby main road, coconut trees give shade to village houses, some of which rent out private rooms.
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