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Published: January 9th 2009
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Sunset fishing boat
The beauty of west facing coasts Our last meal in China was in a small Muslim restaurant close to Shenzhen airport. We had a stopover there before getting the ferry from Shenzhen to Hong Kong.
We stayed in a modern hotel and the surrounding streets were uninviting at first sight but when Sue and I ventured out in the evening we found we were greeted with hello's and smiles and soon identified a restaurant where waiters were wearing the little white hats we had become accustomed to seeing in XiAn and ordered our food by looking at other diners and pointing to whatever they were eating that looked good.. We were not disappointed with the food or the resulting bill of about £3 for both of us.
After a little investigation we found we could get a ferry airport to airport from Shenzhen to Hong Kong. This was one of the easiest transfers of our trip to date. We jumped on to the shuttle bus from the airport to the ferry terminal, bought our ticket there, checked our bags onto the boat and after a short 60 minute crosing we disembarked on Lantau island.
Inside the ferry terminal there are airline check in desks; our baggage appeared
Arambol beach
From the cliff above at a doorway 10 metres away from the desk, we checked in waved goodbye to our rucksacks and wandered through security and passport control nearby (we didn't need to go through Hong Kong immigration) and then boarded another shuttle bus that took us airside direct to the terminal.
The flight to Mumbai was smooth and the Jet Air service was superb, we landed on time at 1.00 am and despite a bottleneck were shepherded onto a shuttle bus from the international to the domestic airports within an hour where we waited bleary eyed for our 5.00 am flight.
7.30 saw us lumbering across the beach towards what we hoped was our destination and this was confirmed by 2 excited figures waving and running down onto the beach to greet us.
Tracy and Mike helped us lug our stuff up to the 1st floor room next to theirs and we sat on the balcony chatting and drinking coffee while the sun rose and we could immediately feel the tensions of our journey melting away.
Arambol beach is a crescent of soft sand, shaped by gentle rolling surf, that is dotted with palm leaf walled shacks selling food and drinks It
Rice bowl
Negotiating the cows on the way up to our room has a narrow twisting road leading off inland crammed with stalls selling everything you might need and many things you don't.
Arambol is populated with visitors from many countries from holidaymakers and seekers of truth or physical dexterity; to long term dwellers you feel are unchanged, unwashed and unshaven since they arrived here in the summer of love in the 60's. I say unchanged but many look like nut brown, skinny, little old men and ladies wearing oversized ethnic clothing and riding “sit up and beg” bicycles complete with baskets or ancient Enfield motorcycles.
The locals were very friendly and the traders were not too pushy although Mike and I did succumb (and we were sober at the time) to a drum maker and seller who convinced us to buy a tabla and a dohl complete with lessons. We were convinced we could perform as the Famous Bongo Brothers and busk on the beach with the early evening poy and fire dancers.
We managed to look the part but looks can be deceptive; as deceptive as playing a drum looks. We are convinced that the next time we meet we will be accomplished players...so that's OK then.
Sue
Rice bowl regulars
Caught drinking...again! became friends with a couple of ladies selling on the beach both pregnant, one who spent the day walking up and down another who had a small shack. Sanya who worked the beach used to stop just for a chat and maybe a drink, the other girl when Sue asked if she sold toe rings promptly removed her own and offered to sell them; Sue graciously declined!
Christmas and New Year were relatively quiet affairs due to the increased security after Mumbai including a midnight music curfew. However, the company of George and Jean (Tracy's parents) and their friends Derek and Peter on Christmas day and of course Mike and Tracy throughout meant that we were thoroughly entertained and spent a festive season full of fun and laughter.
I must admit we were enjoying beach life so much we did little else (I blame it on the neighbours...oh and the sunsets...and the cold beer delivered by the waiters from downstairs)
We did visit Mapsa for the market one day (Anjuna's famous flea market had been closed since the terrorist attacks) where we had lunch in a smal cafe for less than £1 each.
We also arranged a day
Bongo brothers
On hearing the beer had gone up from 40p to 60p a pint! trip with Joseph a local driver to take us up to the waterfall (allegedly India's tallest) and then to a spice plantation and finally to Goa old town and this doubled the amount of photographs we had taken to date.
Our time in Arambol was exactly what we needed, a chance to unwind, unpack and unburden
with good friends who never got bored with our company or we with theirs.
Of all the characters weird and wonderful that we met my favourite was an Aussie named Brad a bearded gentle giant in size and personality who I never saw without a drink in one hand and a smoke in the other.
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