Views from outside the Hang Da Gu cave in Halong Bay...every single one of these boats was filled with at least 16 tourists
“No way,” was all we heard as a familiar face came running up to us at the bus stop in Hanoi where we were waiting for our tour bus to pick us up and take us to Halong Bay. It was Tony, who we had met five months earlier at Sadhana Forest in India and not seen since. So, after a lengthy argument with the people in charge of assigning passengers to their boats, Carrie managed to get all three of us aboard the Dream Voyage for a two day/one night boat tour through Halong Bay: the most iconic destination in Vietnam.
As the most iconic destination in the country, it is also one of the most visited. Our boat left at the same time as dozens of others: each carrying up to 16 passengers. When we made our first stop at the Hang Da Gu cave to view the amazing stalactites and stalagmites, we joined hundreds of other tourists in being ushered through the place as fast as possible. However, that is where the annoyance of the other boats ended. On the open sea one could not hear the noise coming from the other ships and they just became a part of the landscape.
Kayaks docked in Halong Bay...we took one of these out and kayaked in the bay while monsoon rains fell
Halong Bay’s main feature is a series of giant crags sticking out of the water for as far as the eye can see. Our boat stopped a few times in some of the most beautiful spots where were were surrounded by these crags as well as local floating villages. During one stop in the bay we got into kayaks and paddled around. In the middle of kayaking, monsoon rains began to pour down on our heads in a moment I can only compare to when Tim Robbins escapes from the sewage pipe in The Shawshank Redemption and thrusts his hands into the air. Truly amazing and unforgettable.
That night on the boat, we were treated to a traditional music demonstration by our tour guide before joining hands in a circle with our boat-mates to do a series of traditional dances together. When we spoke to people from our bus who got on the boat we would have been on had we not seen Tony and demanded a change, they said they had no such performance and just had a tour guide who yelled at them all day. Whew.
Women in boats filled with snacks, drinks and other items for sale float from ship to ship in Halong Bay selling their wares (taken by Carrie)
A few other highlights from the Halong Bay boat trip were jumping off of the top of the boat into jellyfish infested waters and local women rowing boats full of cookies, snacks and drinks came to the side of our boat to sell us stuff.
Pirating was also the theme of the night, both when Carrie and Tony swam across the bay and boarded a boat that had music playing to look for a party (there was none) and later that night when a different boat docked right next to us and Tony jumped from our roof to theirs. Of course, the boats quickly started to separate, leaving Tony atop the other boat with no choice other than to toss his wallet and playing cards across the span (the cards exploded upon hitting our boat and all landed in the water), jump into the water and swim back to our boat. Classic.
Boats in an inlet to the South China Sea in Na Trang
We came to Nah Trang just for one last dip in the ocean in scuba gear but wound up staying three days relaxing and motorbiking around. The diving itself was pretty nice, though lots of the underwater area was sandy and our dives were cut short both times. By far the highlight was the octopus we watched change colors and try to hide under a rock when we came close.
Nah Trang itself sprawls out into the distance past the beach area that is filled with tourists, overpriced restaurants and hotels. One day we walked around and checked out a wonderful exhibit of black and white photos of Vietnam at the Long Thanh Gallary before searching out the Long Son Pagoda. We avoided some scam artists at the bottom of the Pagoda before hiking up a hill to take in a massive sleeping Buddha statue halfway up and an even more massive sitting Buddha statue atop.
Praying in the East Tower of the Po Nagar Cham Towers in Nah Trang
The next day we rented a motorcycle and headed out of the city to visit the Po Nagar Cham Towers. Located on a hilltop overlooking the South China Sea and the entire town, the Towers are beautiful, red bricked and only semi-ruined. Inside each one is a shrine with some of the thickest incense smoke ever and a non-stop line of people coming in to pray. Our drive later continued along the coastline, stopping at the Hon Chong Promontory to view the ocean and the shrines on islands out in the middle of it.
Finally, our motorcycle day took us to the Thap Ba Hot Spring Center, which was completely unlike anything I have ever seen. The standard 100 dong ($5.50) entry fee covered a mud bath in a tub shared with numerous Vietnamese people, a mineral bath (also in a shared area), a walk through a hot mineral water alley that shoots thin streams of water, a sit under a waterfall and a swim in a pool filled with 50 of your closest friends.
There was no privacy: even for the people who spent 400 dong for a private mud and mineral bath tub. All the extra money buys is a tub free of other people in an area with at least 25 other tubs in a line next to yours. It was a completely strange experience from start to finish.
Imagine a beach with a few hundred feet between the water and a row of bars roughly a quarter mile long. Each bar is blasting music at concert volumes and selling buckets full of alcohol to anyone regardless of age or level of intoxication. Add some blacklights, body painting, glow in the dark items, food stalls and stages for people to dance on. Now put 10,000 people on the beach and see what happens.
While many revelers arrive on the day of the party, we got to Koh Phangan a day early so we would have time to check it all out before the madness began. After waking up in the late afternoon on our first day we wandered around and saw everyone setting up. That evening we attended a pool party next door to our hotel that was filled with a combination of people having a great time horsing around in the pool and others dancing on the dance floor. A wild scene unlike anything I’ve seen before, but as we were not in bathing suits or dancing, it was time to check out the beach.
Even though it was a warm-up night, there were still a few thousand people dancing away on the beach. The music was great, though it was a bit hard to hear at times as the bars are all right next to each other and the different songs mix together. As for the selection it was mostly trance, techno and an occasional hip hop song.
Over the course of the night our group was both together and separated, but every time we saw each other it was like finding a long lost friend in the crowd. At around 5am a flaming jump rope came out and we had a blast watching the drunks try and play. Carrie and I spent the night and early morning dancing our hearts out until the sun came up over the ocean behind us and they shut the music off. By the time we finally made it home it was past 7am.. Quite a warm-up.
While we all slept until 5pm the island underwent a transformation. People arrived in packs, every local was out selling something and the island felt positively electric. Tonight there was no pool party, no other activities…just the beach. The sky was clear, the moon full, the music blasting and we were ready to go!
Upon arriving at the beach the first thing we noticed was a huge police presence that was lacking the night before. There was also a “sleep area” where people who had a little too much fun could go and be kept safe by the on-site medical staff. It was good to see that precautions were being taken, as we had heard horror stories about full moon parties in the past.
Carrie shows off her glow in the dark tattoo in front of a wall filled with all of the options one could get painted on them
For those not needing police or medical attention, there were rows of stalls with blacklight body paint. Each one had pretty much the same designs, which they would paint on you for a price. The beach was also filled with people selling glow in the dark bracelets, hats, glasses and necklaces. Pretty much everyone on the beach had some sort of neon aspect to them. Mine was a bright green neon stick around my wrist.
Food stalls were set up all over the beach and taxi speedboats were waiting to take people to private parties on yachts anchored just off shore. Countless people were out in the water swimming, sitting, standing or laying down in one of the boats foolish enough to park there for the night. Pretty much everyone had a bucket of booze.
The actual party was the same as the night before: just about five times bigger. Pretty much the entire beach was filled with people dancing, talking, walking around, flirting and having a great time. There were fire dancers, people blowing fire, guys and girls spinning fire and, of course, more fire jump rope.
When sunrise finally came, there were tons more people on the beach than the day before. The music also never stopped. While we went back to the room around 7:30am, we met people who were dancing until nearly 3pm. Crazy!
Carrie and I in front of a full moon sunrise
So is it the greatest, biggest and best party in the world? That’s what they say and I do see some merit in the statement. The beach layout is great and gives people a large area to do things without having everything too spread out. Even with 10,000 people there is still room to move around.
At the same time, the closeness of the bars gets a bit old when the music mixes together. Also, if dancing the night away isn’t your thing then this is not the place to be. I feel like the best party in the world would have more options. For now I’ll label it a pretty awesome party and revisit the statement when I go to more of the “best parties in the world.”
The reletively undiscovered Long Beach on the Perhentian Islands
What better reason to leave the cool weather of the Highlands than for some scuba diving and time on a tropical island. The Perhentians are a pair of relatively untouched islands, the smaller of which is Long Beach where we stayed. It reminded Carrie and I of the Corn Islands in Nicaragua. The beach was where all the action was. There were restaurants, bars, sundry shops, hotels and dive shops lining the shore. Behind the beach and the single line stretch of civilization there was nothing but dense forest and some walking paths.
As for the cast of characters on the Perhentians, Carrie and I had picked up a couple of new friends on the minivan ride from the Cameron Highlands. One gal was Karen from the UK who was staying at our hostel. Our other new friend was Claire from Scotland, who we had actually met atop Mt Batur on our sunrise hike in Bali. We hadn’t seen her since, but there she was in the same van. Random! Anyway, the four of us got a room together and thus a new crew was born.
Nemos (aka clown fish) in our dive in the Perhentian Islands (taken by reuben)
During the two days there, Carrie, Karen and I crammed in five dives while Claire worked on her tan. On one dive through a shipwreck we actually had a conversation in an artificial air pocket 12 meters underwater. Caused by divers’ bubbles rising, the pocket allowed us to actually take out our breather, have an echo-filled conversation and breath the underwater air. It smelled and tasted a bit funny, but was perfectly fine and an amazingly unique experience.
During another dive we went to a cleaning station where little shrimps with claws are all congregated by a large piece of coral. Fish come over and the shrimp pick the dirt off them. Well, instead of a fish they got our hands and we watched as dozens of the little guys crawled all over us and gave us a cleaning. It didn’t hurt, but I definitely felt a lot of little pinches.
Claire, Karen and Carrie in the Perhentian Islands
Then there are the Nemos. Every dive we go on, the clown fish are the most fun to play with. Think about the fish from the movie Finding Nemo. That’s a clown fish. They really do live in anemones and every time we come over to them they are the most curious fish in the sea. An outstretched hand is usually enough to get them to come out and say hi.
Oh, and on one dive we literally saw dozens of bamboo sharks hiding under rocks and tons of blue spotted sting rays swimming all over.
Other than diving we really didn’t have much time to explore the island. We ate a few meals, wandered around, checked out the nightlife scene and the chicas had a girl’s night out when I went to bed early one evening. We could have stayed longer, but the world’s biggest party was quickly approaching and we had to get to Thailand. But that’s a story for next time…
A video of what scuba diving in the Perhentian Islands was like, as taken by Reuben
After Mt Batur we went back to Ubud for a few days during which Carrie got sick. While there we stayed at the same hote as Angie, our new Scottish friend who we met at Batur. She wound up coming with us when Carrie felt better and we headed south to Kuta, the resort town and party capital of Bali. Out transport this time: a rental car for $9 a day (too bad we didn’t come up with this money-saving idea earlier).
Imagine everything I wrote about Phuket last time but in a much smaller area. The streets are lined with shops and young people, many of which are Australian, walk around drinking beer at all hours of the day. It’s a party atmosphere 24/7, though we tried to go out one night and found that there was not much doing.
My favorite part, though it irritated me sometimes, was walking the gauntlet of shopkeepers on the side streets. Every single one would try and get me to come in and look at and buy their goods ranging from stickers to teeshirts, beer coozies, statues, hats, sunglasses, nick nacks and more. They all called me their friend and told me they had a very special price just for me. Frequently heard phrases were, “yes hello!, you come look, hello my friend, only look no buy, looking is free.” Also, every five feet were the people offering transport or massages. “Yes, hello transport? You want massage?”
When not walking or avoiding the gauntlet, our other big activity in Kuta was the Waterbom water park. For six hours the three of us slid and tubed our way through 16 different slides and down the lazy river. Typical us, we were amongst the final people to leave the park.
Verdict: Bali Hai
Walking down the shopping gauntlet in Kuta
Walking the gauntlet again and haggling down a teeny sticker from $7.50 to 50 cents…long but funny
The Similan Islands off the Andaman (west) coast of Thailand is home to some of the best scuba diving in the world. One of the best ways to experience this is to live on a boat for a few days, which we were determined to do. Unfortunately, the rainy season was fast approaching and even after dropping everything in Krabi to head to Kho Lak to book a trip, we found that there were very few boats still going out.
Frustrated with our lack of options, we stopped for a bite and met Sarina, Claudio and Chris: local dive instructors on their day off. For nearly two hours, the three made calls and helped us find exactly what we wanted…even if the dates required us to spend two days relaxing and catching up on some writing before heading out. As a bonus, Sarina and Claudio could come along, get paid and be our dive masters (essentially an underwater guide).
Our delux cabin
First some background on the tour. The package we agreed to was ten dives over three days and nights on board the M/V Amarpon: a luxury speedboat. After the second day, we could choose to stay on board for two more days and nights, bringing the total number of dives to 18. Three gourmet meals a day were included, as were water, coffee and tea. Accommodations were in teeny little cabins with bunk beds, but as the dive shop owner, Marcus, was worried about filling the boat, he upgraded our cabin to the deluxe suite to get us in the door. This meant we got the same cabin but with a private bathroom.
As for the food, lunches and dinners ranged from fried rice and chicken to fish soup, shrimp dishes and pad thai. However, my favorite meal of the day was always breakfast. Imagine me, starved of tasty meats, face to face with heaping plates of bacon, sausage and ham to go along with fried eggs, onions, tomatoes and loaves of toast. I was simply in heaven and wanted breakfast for every meal. Even now, weeks after returning to land, I still crave it.
Our trip started with a rough six-hour boat ride through a series of storms that had Carrie feeling seasick and both of us in bed before 9pm. Waking up refreshed, we spent the first full day and night diving but were disappointed with what we saw. The next day things just got worse, as a huge storm tore through the Similan Islands and forced us to miss our first dive. The wind ripped the protective tarp off of the roof of the dining hall, the boat was rocking around and we honestly wondered if we had made a mistake tempting fate and going on the last live aboard of the season.
When we finally got back into the water, the visibility was low and the animals seemed to have been scared off by the storm. Needless to say, we woke up on day three convinced that we were going to be leaving. However, in order to do so we had to be picked up by another live aboard boat that was going back to harbor, as ours still had two more nights at sea. Making our decision tougher was the fact that our first dives on the third day were some of the most amazing we have ever done.
A manta ray we saw scuba diving off of Koh Bon (taken by some German guy on our boat)
Long story short, Marcus made us a great offer to stay another day…so we did. We tried to leave on day four but no boat could pick us up so we had no choice but to finish out the trip. Boy did that work out in our favor as on the final day we spent three dives swimming with manta rays. Now, I’ve seen a ton of cool things diving: corals, sharks, turtles, fish and more. But nothing can compare to the manta. These things were at least 15-20 feet long and were just as curious about us as we were about them. We literally just floated there as they swam by and circled us. At one point there were three in a row, just swimming around checking us out. And then there was the whale shark!
Throughout Central America, all Carrie and I wanted to see was a whale shark…but we just kept missing them by a few weeks. They are very rare and many divers go their whole life without seeing one. We thought our bad luck would continue but after our final dive one was spotted very close and we all put on our masks and snorkels and jumped back in. I won’t even guess how large it was but the thing was massive and simply amazing.
Looking back on the whole experience I am so glad we did it. We saw so many types of coral that I have never seen before and countless new types of fish. Though I did get scuba’ed out a few times, it really was a one of a kind experience that I hope to do again one day. But for now, I’m glad to be on solid ground…something that took some getting used to again on our first night back.
Scuba Liveaboard This and That
The first whale shark we have ever seen in nearly 50 dives (taken by some German guy on our boat)
For whatever reason, every other guest on the boat was from Germany including a group of 50 somethings on some sort of trip together. As such, most conversations were in German except for when the younger of the passengers hung out with us and used their second language.
Every morning we were greeted by the calls of “GOOD MORNING!” from the halls of the boat and before every dive the staff would shout “BRIEFING!”
Despite being in the middle of the water, all we could hear was the sound of the motor keeping the power working for the lights and the AC rooms.
Something about scuba diving makes me need to pee like crazy. Too much info, I know, but true.
Moray Eel (taken by some German guy on our boat)
Not sure why, but Americans seem to be the only ones who don’t wear banana hammock speedos as bathing suits.
Because I wrote it on the contract, all the staff were told my name was Gregory, which it is, so for five days I was once again known only by my birth name. I never bothered to correct them.
By the time we hit our third dive with the mantas, word had gotten out to the other boats and Carrie counted 25 other people in the water with us.
So many people had underwater cameras that at times with the mantas and the whale shark it felt like we were surrounded by paparazzi.
Some underwater videos, taken by a German guy on our boat:
Sorry, I couldn’t resist the bad titlepun, though I now know it’s actually pronounced “poo-kit.” Anyway, for years I had heard that if I ever made it to Thailand, Phuket was the place to go to have fun. So, despite having done all that research on tours in Krabi, Carrie and I changed our plans and headed to the resort town of Patong on the island of Phuket. Our budget hotel options were limited, so we treated ourselves to a nice AC room with TV, DVD player (that we didn’t use once), fridge and free wi-fi: all for the sky-high price of $14 per night. Imagine that back home!
Bangla Road, the center of nightlife in Patong, Phuket
Patong is just like any other resort town in the world: completely devoid of local culture and existing solely to fulfill the fantasies of the visiting tourists. The streets are lined with people selling everything from fake Rolexes to bootleg movies, tee shirts, knick knacks, Thai massages, tours gourmet meals and meat on a stick…all at the lowest possible prices. Walking down these streets is like walking through a gauntlet, as every single person wants your money and gets in your face to ask if you want what they have.
Every five feet a 7-Eleven sells tourists of all ages snacks, water and beer, which they walk down the street consuming at all hours. There are bars and clubs everywhere, but nowhere is more prominent than Bangla Road, which is the main draw of nightlife in Patong. Some alleys literally have a bar every 10 feet, each with dancing girls on the tables…though many of the girls are actually men. Foreigners and locals alike move from place to place until the wee hours of the morning when the street shuts down until the next night.
Some videos from our experience in Patong, Phuket:
Thai Boxing Promo on a Pickup Truck in Patong, Phuket
On James Bond Island, the filming location of The Man With the Golden Gun, in Phang Nga Bay, Thailand
As I mentioned earlier, Carrie and my main goals for tours in Phuket were to see the limestone rock crags that jut out of the waters nearby…and for me to see James Bond Island. Since I was a young boy, James Bond has had an important role in my life. I still remember watching the TBS marathons with my father in the Poconos: especially The Man With The Golden Gun. The image of solar panels rising out of a rock in the middle of the water has been ingrained in my head for two decades: how lucky that that rock was just a boat tour away.
Every day thousands of tourists board boats for tours with dozens of agendas: but they all seem to stop at James Bond Island around lunchtime. This was exactly what I did not want, but after looking around with little success I resolved to joining the masses: until we found Sim’s Tours. Offering a twilight cruise around Phang Nga Bay (pronounced fang-nah), Sim’s tour began with a cruise around the crags and concluded with a stop on James Bond Island just before sunset. However, first we had to get there.
After being five minutes late to the pickup due to our timeshare presentation we found that the bus to the dock had left without us. Repeated calls to the bus resulted in more frustrations, as they did not want to wait for us. However, after some pleading they agreed, so we flagged down a motorcycle taxi and told him to step on it so we could catch up with the bus.
A view of the limestone crags of Phang Nga Bay (taken by Carrie)
In true Bondian fashion we sped down the streets of Phuket, weaving in and out of traffic before finally catching up with the bus. However, after that it was smooth sailing. The tour was amazing, the crags beyond beautiful and James Bond Island was just as I imagined it. Best of all, when we arrived we were the only boat there for a solid few minutes. I was, of course, the first to jump off to ensure that my photos did not have any other tourists in them.
About to go snorkeling off of the Krabi Islands, Thailand
The one other stop on our tour was the Muslim Gypsy village: a collection of houses on stilts that used to be a traditional town but has since become a tourist trap. It was sad to see that the entire village is now a floating market filled with stall after stall selling the same tee shirts, magnets, post cards and souvenirs…many with James Bond Island plastered across them. Still, although I did not like what I saw, I couldn’t resist the chance to get some keepsakes for myself.
Though Sim’s tour met all our crag-viewing needs, we had already signed up for another tour. So, the next day we hopped onto a sweet yacht and headed to a series of islands near Krabi for some snorkeling, sightseeing and relaxing on pure white sandy beaches. Highlights included an island whose rocks looked like a chicken, seeing rock climbers hard at work on Rai Lay Beach, watching tourists cross an underwater sand dune and a delicious lunch overlooking the blue waters. Even the snorkeling was impressive…and I am not a fan of snorkeling.
Constructed by the Portuguese in the 1600’s and later taken over by the Dutch then the British, Galle Fort is a cute colonial town reminiscent of Antigua, Guatemala. It is surrounded by sturdy brick walls and filled with European architecture, narrow streets, little houses and shops, churches, cafes, friendly people and, my favorites, a clock tower and lighthouse.
Were Galle located in any other country it would be overrun by tourism, but here it is a sleepy little town that makes you want to spend days just wandering around and relaxing. The book says it and we agree: if Sri Lanka ever becomes a popular tourist destination then Galle will be a place that we will say “wow, I remember it before it got all touristy.” It also helped that we were there during both the off season and renewed Tiger fighting, because we literally had the streets to ourselves.
While Fort is a historical district, the actual town outside the walls is just like any other bustling city in Sri Lanka. Market-lined streets go on for miles and we frequently headed to them for some cheap local food and to use the Internet. The coastline is right there also and the view out to the ocean and over the fort is spectacular. There was even a little county fair being set up, though we never got a chance to go inside.
Galle Fort. Imagine a 30 foot high wave crashing into the wall surrounding this little colonial town
Back inside, our guesthouse owner, a cute little old man who has lived in in Fort for decades, told us about the tsunami in Galle. Located next to the wall separating Fort from the ocean, he looked up from the front porch and saw a wall of water quickly approaching. Grabbing his family, he hopped in his car and drove to the highest point in town, watched and prayed. When the wave finally slammed into the centuries old wall it stopped in its tracks, sparing the historical district from a watery grave.
The actual town of Galle outside the gate, however, was not so lucky. It had no wall to protect it and was buried under 30 feet of water, killing hundreds and leaving the city decimated. Meanwhile, the only real water to enter Fort trickled in from outside and still reached five feet in some areas closer to the front gate. Truly an amazing story and hearing it from him actually gave me goosebumps.
Our final stop in Sri Lanka was the beach town of Hikkaduwa, though it was unlike I have ever been to. The main highway is also the town’s one road with a row of restaurants and guesthouses separating that road from the ocean. Mostly a surfer’s destination, the waves crashing were some of the largest I have ever seen and I think it may also be the first time I ever saw someone surf. We treated ourselves to a beach-front room and slept to the sound of the ocean for two nights.
Carrie feeds a hundred plus year old sea turtle
One morning we took a walk down the beach until we came to the spot where hundred year old turtles lived. Knowing exactly what we were there for, a local grabbed some seaweed and lured one of them over so we could see, touch and feed it. At first it was just us and the local, but within minutes there was a crowd of rich resort patrons who joined in the fun. No surprise, we were the only ones who tipped the local.
Later that day we hopped onto a local bus to go an hour north to a turtle hatchery where we could see baby turtles and release one into the ocean. I told the money collector the name of the town, he nodded as if to indicate understanding and printed me up a receipt with a price and the name of our destination. Unfortunately, the ticket was written in Sinhalese, which is a completely different alphabet, so I had no idea if it was right. We just assumed it was and, like all other bus helpers, he would tell us when it was our stop.
Carrie had called the hatchery earlier in the day, so we knew that it was about an hour away. Turtles are released only at the end of the day, so we timed our trip to coincide with the closing of the hatchery, even leaving ourselves a little wiggle room. We watched every sign closely to make sure we got off at the right place until the rain started. Soft at first, by the time we hit the hour mark it was a torrential downpour: and of course we had no umbrellas or plastic to cover ourselves or my camera bag.
Hikkaduwa was the first time I ever saw surfing live
The rain also made reading signs much harder, but around the hour mark Carrie saw one that looked like the town before ours. We watched intently, looking for our town’s name, watching for a kilometer marker sign or anything else to let us know we were there. Finally, at around the 1.5 hour point I went up to the front and asked. Shocker, they had no idea what I was talking about and spoke no English. I continued to say the town name and was greeted with blank stares from all around until finally it clicked with someone who told me, in broken English, that we had gone too far.
The cushy inside of an AC minibus. These cost up to 5x the amount of a public bus
We jumped out of the bus into the downpour and found a dry spot across the road to wait for a bus back, still hoping to catch the hatchery on the flip side. Well, as it was raining and the bus was coming from Colombo, every one that passed was so full it had people hanging out of the door and would not stop. We finally had to take an air conditioned minivan bus for nearly 5x what we paid to get there.
Upon getting into the minivan we also saw a kilometer marker and realized that we had gone nearly 35km too far. By the time we were back in the town with the hatchery it was too late and they would have been closed. We rationalized it by saying that with the rain we probably wouldn’t have gotten to release the turtles anyway, but it was still SO frustrating. The worst part is that it all could have been avoided if the money collector had just said that he didn’t understand me. I could have taken out our book, showed him and had no problem. But that’s just the way it is.
Working on my bloggings in a hammock on the beach next to our Andaman Island guest house
As much as we fought it and considered not doing it, the time finally came to leave India. Right now Carrie and I are in the hill station of Kandy in Sri Lanka and will be traveling around this amazing undiscovered country for the next few weeks. Then we hop back to India for a day or two, hopefully, to get our Thai visas, then it’s off to Southeast Asia.
In the mean time, this entry covers our time on the undiscovered Andaman Islands, scuba diving, a couple of fun and frustrating stories from our 36 hours in Chennai, photos, videos and this and that. I know I just sent out an update a few days ago, but this is a short one so, as always, enjoy!
One of the Andaman Islands from our plane (taken by Carrie)
The Andaman Islands are a series of un and barely-touched islands off the east coast of India that Carrie and I have been talking about since arriving. So, after our two weeks of manual labor in Sadhana Forest we packed our bags and headed to paradise. The plane from Chennai landed at Port Blair, but we quickly hopped on three hour ferry to our final destination: Havelock Island. While it is the most built up of all the Andamans, it still sees only a fraction of the traffic of anywhere in the region.
Havelock Island, or at least the part that is relevant to tourists, is essentially one five kilometer street. It starts at the boat jetty, passes through a downtown shopping and market area that is maybe the size of one city block and concludes with a stretch of guest houses, restaurants and little shops. Keep in mind, guesthouses are usually huts with dirt or cement floors and restaurants are a couple of plastic chairs and tables…nothing fancy at all.
