I would reminiscence with every passing season, the tranquil shores and regal rainforests of the Andaman & Nicobar Islands, waiting on when I would travel back, until a friend's travel start-up from Mysore planned a week of adventure to the archipelago.
We the Octet (not all musicians unfortunately) from across the country, given the famed reach of the new yet known "recreational firm" landed in a quiet time-warped aerodrome at Port Blair. On arrival, we were taken to a modest travellers' pied-a-térre to freshen up before we headed to Corbyn's Cove for a swim followed by a ferry ride to Ross Island. Musing among the ruins, the vivid details of history in Ross showed us a glimpse of how brave and assiduous our forefathers were, human traits that need reminding in these times of superficial and banal one-upmanship.
Sound and Light show at Ross Island
Japanese Ruins at Ross Island
The following day was an exceptionally early start to Baratang, the adobe of the Jarawa tribe. Taking in the peaceful silence on the 4 a.m drive one sure feels fleetingly envious of the Jarawas. For they could soak up every night sky and break of dawn in all its glory, while we urbanites forever exist beneath a dull orange haze.
A quick and hot idli-sambar accompanied by chai at the forest check post, gave us our morning measure of energy. At six, on the dot, the convoy of vehicles entered the reserve forest. More than spotting the tribes, the diversity of the undergrowth and canopy were breath-taking. Through the reserve forest, on the other side, we boarded a ferry to north Andaman and then a motor boat, manoeuvred through mangroves to a path that led to the famed lime stone caves. True to literature, they glittered, time and again revealing nature's patience in all her creations.
Limestone caves at Baratang
Our next stop was Bambooflat. Deciphering the origin of this location's name was truly beyond us mainland folks. Dropped at an indiscreet point on the road, we quickly set off trekking through the forest to a waterfall and its heavenly pool that is spoken of in hushed tones among few travellers. Undeterred by spells of rain and a hold up by the pipe guardians of the waterfall, our weariness was overcome by the water rituals that followed.
En-route fresh waterfall at Bambooflat
A shout out to the prompt public mini buses. Fuelled on old Hindi and Bengali ballads, they made our short travels within the islands, dependable and fun. One such trip, took us to the Wandoor beach, a picturesque ocean front with majestic trees. To have a gallery view of the moonrise that night, we were put up at a wooden cottage atop a hill that overlooked a cove. The old tubby cooks at the cottage had our food whipped-up in no time. Tummy happy, we were entertained by our strapping young guitarist, with a panache for constant banter .
The ferry - Bambooka to Neil Island the following day, was a ninety minute warm massage, outcome of strategically sunbathing on the deck under remnant rain clouds. The loud hum of the ferry and the hypnotic clouds overhead soon lulled us to sleep. After that therapeutic nap, we stepped off the ferry to translucent turquoise blue waters of Neil.
Neil Island
A swim at the beach facing petite huts satisfied our primeval need to feel the crisp waves under the afternoon sun. Lunch and forty winks later, we were driven to a beach with a naturally formed arch called the bridge. Photographs taken, we headed to a another beach with a wider shore for a quintessential island sunset. Back at the huts, new card games were learnt in the company of canine foot warmers in between cups of hot lemon tea.
Day two on Neil, was spent at Bharatpur, a beach with rolling waves of sand underwater and no spiky corals. Three hours of frolicking in the water, snorkelling and a quick shower later we were on our way to Havelock Island. After we parked our rucksacks in huts, we headed to the famous Radhanagar beach for another photographers' ideal sunset.
On rented scooters, a few of us rode inland the next morning. Past the Kala pathar beach, on the road leading to expanses of luminescent green paddy fields, one could feel the temperature drop under patches of thick canopy.
Post the ride, recreational diving was on the to-do list. For two, who decided otherwise, it was a game of Frisbee with a competitive retriever followed by snorkelling. All done, we found ourselves riding to Radhanagar beach once again.
That evening, walking away from the crepuscular lit shore felt as though one had lost a lover in that sunset. On our return to Port Blair, we caught a bright rainbow after a jackal's wedding at Chidiya Tapu, which I would say counts as a pretty grand visual finale to our tour. Tanned, scarred and blissfully pampered by the isles, we parted to fly back to our polluted dreary worlds.
PS: To all the cats and dogs on our tour, a very special thank you! Your unconditional affection, healing touch and cold noses make every holiday that much more cherished! And thank you Add-ventures unlimited for keeping us on our toes, the much appreciated camaraderie and rasgoooolas. Au revoir!
