The new spa capital?

Goa has become the new Kerala when it comes to spas and massage centres - minus the ayurveda.

The nine-km-long stretch of road that runs immediately behind the beaches of Candolim, Calangute and Baga is packed, more or less end to end, with a pastiche of sarong-and-T-shirt stalls, family-run hotels, open-air restaurants and STD booths. Squeezed in between whatever spaces remain are massage centres offering Kerala ayurvedic massages.

Ten years ago, there were no massage centres, good, bad or dodgy. They mushroomed around five years ago, and they all offered panchakarma treatments. Today, the word panchakarma has been replaced by a more accurate description: ayurvedic massages. I find the metamorphosis telling.

Goa has become the new Kerala, with one vital difference. Completely lacking the ayurvedic baggage that Kerala has been blessed with, wily entrepreneurs have noted that the warm, moist, balmy climate of Goa is not unlike that of South-east Asia's major spa centres: Indonesia, Malaysia and Thailand, each of which is identified with its own form of massage.

It was a recipe for success. Unlike Kerala, where the thrust of spa experiences centres around the home-grown ayurveda, Goa is a clean slate: draw on it whatever spa treatments you want, from whichever part of the world. It isn't just tourists "" Western and local "" who visit the state in droves: I caught up with Jatin Walia of Delhi's Body Spa International, shopping around for a partner with whom to set up his brand, headquartered in Singapore.

"Goa has everything that Bali has, and Bali is considered the spa capital of the world. There the five elements are all available naturally. In other environments, water has to be introduced artificially, in the form of waterfalls or pools within a spa. Here, the sound of the sea has been provided by nature. We work on the body; nature works on the mind."

Walia "" and others of his ilk "" can be said to have created a new variety of tourists: the spa junkie. It's a breed that works hard and visits spas to de-stress. Over time, this class has become informed.

Today, it's no longer enough to pass off njavarakizhi massage as being part of panchakarma "" the customer knows the difference. The question is, did spas and the facilities they offer create the spa junkie, or did the species evolve because of the plethora of choices they have at hand?

Goa alone is now home to spa treatments from every corner of the globe. You want Swedish massage? An enterprising European woman who has made Goa her home advertises Swedish massage by the simple expedient of nailing advertisements on every tree in the vicinity of Baga beach.

If it's Pizhichil you're after, peer past oil-stained curtains around Calangute "" you'll find young lasses from Kerala wielding bottles of dhanwantaram tailam. If you're not quite sure what you want, walk down to any beach and lie down: an army of masseuses from the neighbouring states will accost you, offering you a massage right there on the sunny sands.

And if none of these appeal to you particularly, you can always check out the deluxe hotels. There's not a single one that does not have a spa. The newer ones, of which Park Hyatt Resort and Spa is the best example, have created the spa at the same time as the rest of the resort was built, which is to say, every facility has been thought of and planned for.

Treatment rooms open out onto walled courtyards, so that there's privacy as well as the feeling of being outdoors. Public spaces flow into one another, complete with tinkling fountains and post-treatment relaxation armchairs. Staff rooms are well away from guest areas, so that the chatter of spa personnel does not impinge on your consciousness as you're in a treatment, and every treatment room is equipped with its own steam room and shower.

It's perhaps for all of these reasons that Park Hyatt's Goa property has received the prestigious Conde Nast Best Spa of the Year award, though there's another possible reason as well: it's one of the few spas around that makes no concession to ethnicity.

Thus, Balinese Mandu Lulur is not administered by Balinese beauties; no lissome Thai lasses will give you the famous "lazy man's yoga" massage, and the Shirodhara stream of oil on the forehead may be administered by girls from Kalimpong rather than Kerala.

Dr Jai Chandran Thampi, director of the spa, says that from the beginning, they were very clear that they wanted an international approach.

"No matter where in the world you are, there are only about six different strokes that, administered singly or in combination, gives you a 'type' of massage: petrissage, effleurage, stretching, deep tissue stimulation and so on. Our spa personnel are trained in every one of these equally, obviating the need for particular communities being associated with types of treatments."

It could well be the way all spas are headed in the future: a future in which spa junkies dictate the facilities they want, and spas bend over backwards to provide them.