Havlock Day 2

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30th September,

Havelock.

Okay, now for the sown seeds of yesterday. The Bengali restaurant owner at lunch time had mentioned one Elephant Beach, which was either accessible by boat or by a trek through a forest trail. It was secluded and empty and stunningly beautiful....

So next morning, it seemed that the idea was to find that beach. Now treks through forest trails leave me essentially cold, so my bet would have been the boat, but the hotel guys made it sound quite easy, the map looked like it was really a small stretch and so like a fool I agreed to what seemed like a walk to the beach, yes through some vegetation. To note, I was dressed for the beach, with my beach flats on, just the WRONG thing for a forest trail. After a little bit of foxing around, we did find the beginning of the trail, it just seemed to go up hill, and beyond the hills would be the sea, no?...

So we started off, and after going up for a while, the trail swung around and entered the forest. It had been raining, remember? And the ground was terribly mushy, and as we plunged deeper and deeper into the forest, the path weaving and winding, the trail became this gaping continuously slushy, completely unwalkable mud track, slippery and difficult and a sheer nightmare in my beach flats. Soon my shoes where so slippery that it made more sense to take them off and walk barefoot through the mud. Okay, I was not winning any honours here, I was barely trying to survive this. And so I scrambled on, slipped and fell, twisted my ankle, got scratched by thorns, twisted my feet, went into the mud, got out of the mud. Apparently Ingo could hear the sea and boats, and it seemed already too much to turn around, so a hapless me continued, grittting my teeth and trying, very hard to see the brighter sides of things. And yes, this went on for a very long time. But eventually, the sound of the sea became actually sounds of waves crashing on the beach and the boats became louder and we could hear sea birds, and just when I could see a spot of water through the trees, a disturbed Ingo turned around and said that things did not look very good. I hurried to the point where the trees actually parted and looked out to a stretch of slushy mud like the bottom of a lake with small rivulets running around and a whole bramble of half height mangrove trees...and no, no visible sea. Ingo was sure that we could not walk on this, but I was too desperate, and yes we could actually walk over it. We knew that the sea had to be at the other end of the line of mangroves and we gingerly walked through slush and mud and mangroves and water and sand and then...just as suddenly, there was the sea! Beautifully majestic and completely deserted. Well almost completely, as at a distance there were two boats moored and some people with all diving gear ready to take punts into the water.

Okay, blame me if you must, but my first thoughts was to somehow get one of those boat guys to get us back to civilisation. A repeat performance at the forest 'non-trail' was not happening, and I had threatened Ingo that if we did not find a boat to get back, he would have to organise for a helicopter. I put on all my charms and talked as I have never talked, and soon one boat guy was ready to give us a lift back to the jetty. I could have fallen on his feet and kissed them. We had enough time to get into the waters, and the same boat guys even offered us the underwater glasses. We swum in, the water was remarkably calm, and we were further in than the other groups. But i swear we did not see anything. But it was heavenly to swim in such calm water, beautifully clear and gentle.

Very soon it was time to leave. At the back of my mind was whether the 'torture trail' as I would have liked to call it ;-) was worth the time we spent on the beach - about half an hour. It was just the perfect beach to swim! But I guess, inside my head was the several pitfalls of attempting to go back through the forest again, and Ingo decided not to push his luck by suggesting it. So we left when the family we were hitching a ride with left. Small country boat, with a diesel engine fitted on. And a fairly windy, choppy sea. The boat felt like a paper boat on the water and it reflected what was inside my head completely. It swivelled and rocked and lurched. The boy's of the family was feeling ill, going pale in the face and shutting their eyes. I loved every moment of it. A fairly long ride and atlast we were back at the boat jetty. Oh I wish I had a snap of the ladder to the boat - a welded iron rod thingie which put a whole new spin to climbing. We paid 200 rupees to the boatmen and now we had to look for a way to get back to our scooter which was still on the other side of the forest. But first things first, since we were at the jetty, we had to check out the ferry ticket situation for tomorrow. But it was 1.40 pm and the ferry ticket counter apparently only worked from 9 in the morning to 1 in the afternoon!

An auto got us back to the beginning of the forest and it was great to be back on familiar wheels. For the fact that the auto asked for a hundred rupees to take us there, we were actually very glad that we had the scooter. For lunch we decided to hit one of the several shacks next to Radhanagar Beach. The lunch timings were already out, but these cute Bengali men agreed to serve us lunch, we had to wait for them to heat up the food and cook the fish, fresh out of water. A quick set of instructions as to how to cut and cook the fish and there we were sitting down to a hot meal of rice, vegetables, and LOTS of fish. All for Rs 90 a head.

From there onto the beach. My intention was to swim, but by now my foot was hurting quite badly, and so even though I got into the water (Ingo preferring to sleep off his lunch first), my foot was making me nervous enough, so after just a quick dip, I made off to the beach to. My foot by now was quite something to walk on. Lying down on the beach and reading seemed a far doable option and the world looked so beautiful - the sky and the leaves of the trees against it, the sky strip blue with flakes of clouds white and fluffy...the sun was planning to go down and we were sure that it would still be behind the clouds. If we went in search of the sun, over the rocks and the sand, behind the trees, it would be like the receding horizon...always there and yet never reachable. We sat on one of the rocks and saw the sun go behind the trees and the clouds change colour and slowly the stars come out. The night sky had always been one of the most awesome things over here - like a star spangled blue banner stretched over from one side to another, and it was always wonderful to see the stars come out one after the other. Driving back at night, in the dark with the night insects flying onto you was a bit something - visors, which were absent seemed to be a good idea.

And then we hit the market area and it comes as a shock. This place which we have passed several times during the day and which at best seemed sleepy and quiet, was suddenly buzzing with people and activities - the markets were on - vegetables, fish and meat, the sweet shops making fresh 'bonde' and 'gulab jamuns'. Looked too good to miss. The whole place was just throbbing - such a tropical characteristic, where people come alive after sun down. And life, social and otherwise are reserved for the cooler times thenceforth. We walked around a bit before we headed back to the hotel. My foot was becoming quite difficult.

Before going into the hotel I stopped off to call home, and the news was not that good. Sanaa had come down with a fever. The trip inside my head was hard - my baby ill when I am not around. And I am not there to nurse her. I am here enjoying myself alone, doing stuff only my way. I thought I needed that, I thought I required that space inside my head for a while. Now all I felt was how selfish I was. All I could think of was how I could rush home. And I can't - the choices are made.... So am I growing up at last? The hard way? Hundred questions and then a few more. Will they remember to give her paracetamol when she needs it? Will she feed? Will the doctor be able to take this under control fast? How, oh how can I get to her fast? What am I doing here, when my place was there? The place I have built and nurtured over so much time and distance now. Should I not just look at that and be happy? What is it that I am searching for? Why am I doing what I am doing?

This bloody problem with Vodafone when roaming is really bugging the hell out of me. There is Airtel but I can't connect to it. And there is Cell One and of course I can't connect to that too. While Ingo with his foreign connection can. Dumb! So I am dependent on the STD booth to make any calls. And here I have to ask a hundred questions - how IS she?? My foot is killing me, and I am screaming inside myself. Dragged myself to the booth again...and again...to slowly calm myself...

During dinner Anu calls from home. Sanaa is doing a lot better, in fact was quite chirpy. That quietened my nerves a bit and cleared my head. A good light dinner with rice and daal and paneer, and I am just too tired to move anymore. One last phone call home and then I am out for the night.

Too tired tonight, with my feet hurting like nuts. Otherwise I know I would have slept really badly - so the trip had its good uses. What a day was what I was thinking before slipping off to never never land...

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