Leopard Valley

Hands reaching for colorful confetti at a club

The words Leopard Valley have been whispered in the wind over the last few days. Described as ‘clubbing evolved’ (although I read it as ‘clubbing involved’), it’s South Goa’s big Friday night party and it promises to be the all night rager I’ve been looking for after a chilled five days. However, if I’ve learnt anything about India it’s that expectations should always be managed and what is advertised as a high-octane night in an amphitheatre bulging at the seams with euphoric clubbers and international DJs…… could actually just be 3 Indian guys, looking up from their phones and going ‘oh… you came?’

After some drinks ‘in town’ (still Agonda beach) we catch a taxi to this mysterious place in the middle of the Goan jungle. Luckily, it delivers: it’s a big, busy open air club complete with a pool and a tattooed, Kate Moss-esque DJ who mixes with intermittent swigs of beer and a cig casually hanging out of her mouth. She is the kind of effortless cool most could only ever dream of being. We dance, with pointed fingers in the air, to trance until the early hours (I don’t know if it’s trance, that’s just a word I heard once, I don’t even know what trance is).

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