It is easy to look at the official tourism numbers and conclude that Goa is thriving. Indeed the state continues to receive millions of visitors each year, particularly from within India. But the numbers only tell part of the story. The emotional pulse of tourism has shifted. Foreign visitors, who once helped define Goa’s global character, are returning but only slowly and cautiously. Something in the relationship has changed and it deserves attention rather than narrative management by the state government.
A Russian-origin friend, based in the UK, visited Goa recently after I sold Goa to her instantly. Of course she had imagined the place for years. Within two days, she sounded deflated. The beaches were “much more crowded, smelly and littered” than she expected. She felt annoyed by desi travellers who repeatedly asked for selfies. Hotels felt overpriced. She rented an apartment that lacked natural light. Yet she stayed. She adjusted. She wandered, as she always does. She met an NRI who said he had come to Goa to “find himself,” a line Goa has heard in many accents. Before leaving, her verdict on the former Portuguese colony was pointed: “Goa is beautiful, but something in its atmosphere is slipping. Too many rules. Taxi mafia. Not enough imagination to repackage itself to foreigners. And so many stories about Delhiites ruining everything.”
In 2024, Goa welcomed more than ten million tourists, but fewer than five lakh were foreign. That is a notable shift from earlier decades, when foreign travellers stayed longer, spent across local economies and gave Goa a relaxed cosmopolitan rhythm. Meanwhile, destinations that once stood alongside Goa in the global imagination have surged ahead. Bali welcomed more than six million foreign tourists last year. Antalya received over 16 million. Sharm el-Sheikh and Hurghada continue to recover steadily, helped by direct flights and predictable pricing. These numbers signal where travellers feel wanted
One clear sign of change is in charter tourism. Charters from the UK, Russia, Germany and Eastern Europe once supported a long-stay culture in Goa, where visitors returned year after year. Charters still arrive, but infrequently. Operators speak quietly of guest experience concerns and uncertainty about how welcome foreign travellers feel.
People who work in tourism describe grounded challenges. Hotel prices have climbed quickly. Transport often feels like a negotiation rather than a service. Rules around Goa’s famed nightlife have toughened. None of these issues alone define a destination. But together, they create unease. Tourists do not travel for unease.
Recent incidents have raised more serious concerns. In one widely shared video from Arambol beach, foreign women were surrounded by groups of desi tourists from north asking for photographs despite visible discomfort. In Vagator, a visiting family reported aggressive treatment by private bouncers. A visiting Russian chess player publicly expressed shock at accommodation quality and cleanliness before cutting abruptly leaving. Each incident may be isolated, yet collectively they hint at an erosion of the atmosphere that once made Goa easy to love.
The state responded with commitments to increased police patrolling and reminders that private security personnel cannot interfere with tourists. These measures are necessary. But Goa’s charm never relied solely on policing. It rested on a cultural instinct that valued personal space. Goa followed the spirit of “let people be.” It meant ease, not indifference. Freedom, not restriction.
Goa today is made up of several tourism worlds. There are casinos in Panaji. Villa enclaves in Assagao and Siolim. A backpacker culture in Anjuna and Arambol, though it no longer sets the tone. And a strong domestic weekend wave that is energetic and enthusiastic, Each model is valid. The issue is that they coexist without coherence or identity
By contrast, competing destinations have sharpened their narratives. Bali markets wellness and a softer way of living. Antalya offers structured coastal comfort, where tourists from both Russia and Ukraine can share the same shoreline, away from the sounds of war. Sharm el-Sheikh sells leisure supported by clear security and smooth logistics. Goa, at the moment, shifts its narrative depending on who is listening.
The state government says it is now pursuing a regenerative tourism approach: heritage villages, homestays, hinterland trails, wellness travel and cultural programming. These ideas recognise the coast cannot carry tourism alone. But the real test will be implementation. The next two winter seasons will show whether they shape visitor experience or remain aspirational.
I have been visiting Goa since the late 1980s, when it was packaged as “Goa in the rains”. I was then a domestic tourist. I visit Goa now as part of an expat crowd. I hear complaints and compliments from both sides, but recently complaints have outnumbered compliments. My love affair with Goa has grown stronger, and so have my concerns. My comments are self-criticism, not an attack on the state government or the Chief Minister. I am only interested in the reclamation of Goa’s old culture of quiet respect for tourists, especially foreign tourists. Then they will come back.
Because at the core, the issue is not only accommodation or pricing. It is behaviour. Taking photos of strangers without permission. Staring. Treating beaches like stage sets instead of shared spaces. This is where Goa’s old cultural instinct is missed.
Goa does not need to compete with Antalya on volume or Bali on lifestyle branding. It needs to remember what made it special: ease, warmth, informality, utter freedom and natural coexistence. The indifference of foreign tourists is not a crisis. Something subtle but essential is fading and could still be recovered.
The sea has not changed. The sunsets are still gorgeous. But perhaps the soul is missing.
(Syed Zubair Ahmed is a London-based journalist.)