marital beach bliss
after the glorious, manic chaos of our indian wedding, coming as it did on top of the various travails of 2011 (the english wedding, vicki finishing her masters, deciding to emigrate to the cayman islands, moving out of our little mouse in arundel square), we were desperate for some much deserved rest. our veins were still shot through with restorative old monk when we crawled out of our bed in the bengal club at 3am on sunday morning, pausing only to yank ben off our sofa, and headed off to the airport to catch our flight to the andaman islands.
i've been intrigued by the andamans ever since i bought my first lonely planet india a decade ago and noticed a dislocated chapter hidden at the back of the book dedicated to these enigmatic islands owned culturally by india (bengal no less), but geographically seeming much more akin to the myriad beach island delights of south east asia. at the turn of the millenium this mystical allure was amplified by the limited access to the islands, with expensive weekly flights or eight day steamer voyages the only available options. happily the opening up of the indian domestic travel market has shuffled the islands closer to cal more quickly than any shifting tectonic plate could hope to, with air india running daily flights from cal, albeit at the inhumane hour of 5.15am.
driving through the streets of cal at 3am allows you to believe that waking up a little early has transported you to an entirely different place, with the incessant beeping horns, cacophony of just avoided collisions and grasping hordes thousands of miles rather than a few hours away. that illusion was rapidly shattered when we stumbled blearily into the domestic terminal to be abruptly awakened from our drowsy reverie. cars spewing out people, gruffly shouted goodbyes, unfeasible amounts of luggage all showing no respect for the advanced hour, cal's airport made no concessions at all to the tranquillity gifted by the early morning.
we located our flight after a minor panic caused by its absence from any screens and checked in our bags, before rejoining ben in a security queue which managed to be simultaneously painfully slow and yet frantic. pausing only to laugh at a chap with spunk on his shoe (a brand which i cannot see catching on in the uk), we received uninterested pat downs from moustachioed soldiers more akin to the brusque nightly embrace of an unloved partner than any real terrorist deterrent, jostled for position with various excitable mashi/pishi and finally settled into our 70s style plane. a couple of hours in the air, auto ride, catamaran across the water (just: when we arrived there were no tickets left and only the sight of a near tearful vicki, hands stained with mehndi cheeks stained with the threat of tears, allowed us to wangle some last minute cancellations) and another short auto ride later we arrived at barefoot, just behind beach number 7 on havelock island. no internet, virtually no phone signal, no tv, just solitude of the most glorious kind, being that punctuated by a comfy bed and a fully functioning bar and restaurant churning out sweet lime sodas and chicken 65.
from there everything went very much to plan. we had a romantic little hut, decorated with an elegant european sensibility and relatively immune from bugs and spiders, and from which it was the shortest of walks down to the beach. beach number 7 is more evocatively referred to as radhanagar beach and, as nooone here will ever tire of telling you, was named time magazine's beach of the year a few years ago. it's easy to see why the accolade was granted: still sufficiently secluded to feel exotic, the beach itself consists of a strip of clear white sand sandwiched between the shimmering blue waters of the bay of bengal, clear as the guilt on a lying child's face, and, thrillingly, high rainforest trees looming overhead, completing the picture postcard views whilst providing welcome shade. we are talking french polynesia stunning here, and with better food to boot.
and that was pretty much us sorted for the next four days. late mornings lazing on the beach and splashing around in the bath-warm water, afternoons putting the kindle to good use (not sure about "if on a winter's night a traveler"; thank god for wodehouse and some easily digestible linear narrative) and sipping sweet lime sodas, evenings eating surprisingly good food, the andamans provided exactly the kind of recuperative break that we had desperately needed, with each hour that passed making us realise afresh just how essential this rest was.
of course living amongst the trees brings with it certain rustic delights, and we regularly contended with frogs transfixed by torchlight, mammoth hermit crabs and, on one terrifying (for me) occasion, a coiled snake hissing from under a tree, but they added to the allure of the place (well all except the snake which very nearly added to my laundry bill). vicki took it one step further this morning by going snorkelling with rajan, the last of the andaman elephants famed for their swimming abilities, and emerged from the water looking happy if not a little confused by what she had just witnessed and relieved to have avoided the excrement that had bobbed by her head as rajan truly relaxed in the water. checked out now and just waiting for our ferry back to port blair before starting the hectic leg of this holiday; the andamans have provided the perfect shot in the arm prior to the inevitable madness that awaits in agra.
i've been intrigued by the andamans ever since i bought my first lonely planet india a decade ago and noticed a dislocated chapter hidden at the back of the book dedicated to these enigmatic islands owned culturally by india (bengal no less), but geographically seeming much more akin to the myriad beach island delights of south east asia. at the turn of the millenium this mystical allure was amplified by the limited access to the islands, with expensive weekly flights or eight day steamer voyages the only available options. happily the opening up of the indian domestic travel market has shuffled the islands closer to cal more quickly than any shifting tectonic plate could hope to, with air india running daily flights from cal, albeit at the inhumane hour of 5.15am.
driving through the streets of cal at 3am allows you to believe that waking up a little early has transported you to an entirely different place, with the incessant beeping horns, cacophony of just avoided collisions and grasping hordes thousands of miles rather than a few hours away. that illusion was rapidly shattered when we stumbled blearily into the domestic terminal to be abruptly awakened from our drowsy reverie. cars spewing out people, gruffly shouted goodbyes, unfeasible amounts of luggage all showing no respect for the advanced hour, cal's airport made no concessions at all to the tranquillity gifted by the early morning.
we located our flight after a minor panic caused by its absence from any screens and checked in our bags, before rejoining ben in a security queue which managed to be simultaneously painfully slow and yet frantic. pausing only to laugh at a chap with spunk on his shoe (a brand which i cannot see catching on in the uk), we received uninterested pat downs from moustachioed soldiers more akin to the brusque nightly embrace of an unloved partner than any real terrorist deterrent, jostled for position with various excitable mashi/pishi and finally settled into our 70s style plane. a couple of hours in the air, auto ride, catamaran across the water (just: when we arrived there were no tickets left and only the sight of a near tearful vicki, hands stained with mehndi cheeks stained with the threat of tears, allowed us to wangle some last minute cancellations) and another short auto ride later we arrived at barefoot, just behind beach number 7 on havelock island. no internet, virtually no phone signal, no tv, just solitude of the most glorious kind, being that punctuated by a comfy bed and a fully functioning bar and restaurant churning out sweet lime sodas and chicken 65.
from there everything went very much to plan. we had a romantic little hut, decorated with an elegant european sensibility and relatively immune from bugs and spiders, and from which it was the shortest of walks down to the beach. beach number 7 is more evocatively referred to as radhanagar beach and, as nooone here will ever tire of telling you, was named time magazine's beach of the year a few years ago. it's easy to see why the accolade was granted: still sufficiently secluded to feel exotic, the beach itself consists of a strip of clear white sand sandwiched between the shimmering blue waters of the bay of bengal, clear as the guilt on a lying child's face, and, thrillingly, high rainforest trees looming overhead, completing the picture postcard views whilst providing welcome shade. we are talking french polynesia stunning here, and with better food to boot.
and that was pretty much us sorted for the next four days. late mornings lazing on the beach and splashing around in the bath-warm water, afternoons putting the kindle to good use (not sure about "if on a winter's night a traveler"; thank god for wodehouse and some easily digestible linear narrative) and sipping sweet lime sodas, evenings eating surprisingly good food, the andamans provided exactly the kind of recuperative break that we had desperately needed, with each hour that passed making us realise afresh just how essential this rest was.
of course living amongst the trees brings with it certain rustic delights, and we regularly contended with frogs transfixed by torchlight, mammoth hermit crabs and, on one terrifying (for me) occasion, a coiled snake hissing from under a tree, but they added to the allure of the place (well all except the snake which very nearly added to my laundry bill). vicki took it one step further this morning by going snorkelling with rajan, the last of the andaman elephants famed for their swimming abilities, and emerged from the water looking happy if not a little confused by what she had just witnessed and relieved to have avoided the excrement that had bobbed by her head as rajan truly relaxed in the water. checked out now and just waiting for our ferry back to port blair before starting the hectic leg of this holiday; the andamans have provided the perfect shot in the arm prior to the inevitable madness that awaits in agra.
posted by bicrom @ 4:55 pm
