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Monday, November 30, 2009

NEIL IS MY HAVELOCK


    Meet your average tourist on his return from the Andaman Isles and he’ll show you spectacular photographs of the sunset at Radhanagar Beach Havelock, the pristine blue of the Elephant Beach and may be a few of those poor elephants stranded on Havelock Island. Prod him some more and he’ll rave and rant about the awesomeness of the Cellular Jail and declare that the Light and Sound Show caused him to break out into patriotic goose pimples. Then you drop the bomb and ask him about Neil Island. Chances are, you’ll draw a blank. A shadow will flit across his face and he’ll screw his eyes up as if in recollection and finally give you a look of disdain that says “Can’t you appreciate the fact that I’ve just returned from visiting the fifth most beautiful beach in the whole wide world?” (That’s how Radhanagar Beach, Havelock is described in some surveys)

    If that has happened to you, you’d better read on, for as far as I am concerned, Neil Island, located rather close to its more famous cousin Havelock, is at least four times the Havelock experience. The fact that I’ve been to Neil four times and Havelock just twice should convince the sceptics as well!



    One of the reasons people don’t really go to Neil Island is because the ferry timings heavily favour the Havelock tourist. Nature has ensured that though they are quite close to each other, their jetties aren’t and it’s a solid two hour trip from one to the other. I had a hard time believing this since I first saw Havelock from Neil and I could have sworn a well stuck golf drive from there (at the closest approach) would have safely landed on the white sands of Havelock! Now I’m either kidding or I could give Tiger Woods a complex. Add to this the fact that the Tourism department shares the average tourist’s mania for ticking Havelock on his list and you have the lop-sided ferry schedule.
  
    In any case, I took a boat to Neil Island at six a.m. one clear morning and this was possibly my best decision yet on the islands. The boat named Wandoor (another beautiful beach just off Port Blair), was a speedboat I was told. I reflected upon what my fate on the slower boat would have been as MV Wandoor clipped across the Andaman Sea at a thundering pace of five knots. Now the trick to enjoying these ferry boats is to remain on upper decks – even on a sunny day. There is hardly a view from the seats inside and the stuffy interiors and odd smell these boats seem to have in common effectively kill much of the enthusiasm one has for the destination. The trip to Neil offers quite spectacular vistas especially the Ross Island and North Point lighthouses which appear on the starboard and port respectively as you leave Port Blair harbour. Thus, about two hours and fifty photographs later I found myself disembarking at Neil Island by eight a.m.



    I have never really understood what it is with our countrymen that pushes them to exit a vehicle even before it has come to a stop. Irrespective of the mode of travel, people will throng the exit, however narrow, to try and win the battle of who touches land first. The disease is so rampant that even foreign tourists who’ve spent in excess of a month in India begin to participate in this mindless egoistical enterprise. I’ve seen it on buses, in trains, even in aircraft (the low cost carriers are no better than flying buses anyway) and now I saw the same desperate attempt to be the first to get off the Wandoor. Almost made me check if the boat had sprung a leak. As I made my way across the jetty I could see the winner of today’s Disembarkation Deathmatch soaking in the congratulations of his believers while the defeated slunk away, sulking, to fight another day I’m sure.

The view from Neil Island jetty on a clear day is breathtaking. The jetty juts out quite a long way into the water like a bony finger so standing right at the end, I felt I was almost looking at the island from a boat – something like the hanging balconies they have nowadays which allow you to see your own building from the outside. To the left is a beach almost completely in shade of overhanging trees. A few Andaman fishing boats, or donghis bobbed gently in the unbelievably clear water near the jetty as the morning sun glinted off the surface of the water. To the right was a mangrove in a stunning range of green providing a vivid and fresh foreground to the sparkling blue sea. I clicked a few pictures and made my way to the island.



    The jetty is narrow and meant for two way traffic. However it appeared that the locals believed whoever was on the jetty had a fundamental right to knock off every obstacle in their path, whether animate or otherwise. Lost in admiring the beauty around me, I had a couple of close calls as cycle rickshaws almost as wide as the jetty trundled up and down with gay abandon. The island end of the jetty is a typical tour guide haunt with drivers holding placards to receive expected guests. Fortunately, I had planned in advance and soon I saw a distant resemblance to my name on one such placard. I waved out to the driver who came forward, beaming. I beamed back and he proceeded to rattle out our schedule for the day. Distracted by a noisy family engaged in drinking (nay, they were eating the white meat too) coconut water, I decided to try some myself. I recommend this drink to each and everyone I meet. Never had sweeter coconut water.

    Neil Island is perhaps singular in that it has four very different beaches, which is why I say it provides a more wholesome experience than most other places. My driver and guide decided I should experience Sitapur Beach, bathe at Bharatpur Beach, visit Laxmanpur Beach II and finally savour the sunset at Laxmanpur Beach I, in that order. I obliquely pointed out to him that he’d missed out a few key members of Lord Rama’s immediate family. Surely they could have avoided I and II with so many names still to go!



    Sitapur Beach turned out to be the most perfect crescent shaped beach I could hope to imagine. Standing at one end, I marvelled at the blueness of the water and the dazzling white sparkle of the crashing foam contrasting with the silver sand. “Beach no go in high tide”, said my knowledgeable guide, “You go see caves now”. I took his advice and walked along the water along the length of the beach. It must be about three-quarters of a kilometre. Right at the end are two limestone caves which were, well, OK but this beautiful and romantic beach more than made up for the unexciting caves. I saw just one couple strolling ahead of me and I made the walk back trying to click award winning photographs titled “Footprints in the Sands of Time” or some other such esoteric subjects. I am told Sitapur Beach has an amazing sunrise too, provided the horizon is cloud-free which it never is whenever you plan to wake up early.

    I moved on to Bharatpur Beach which turned out to be the shady beach I’d seen from the jetty. By now the sun was well up in the sky and the trees provided welcome relief. The water was absolutely calm with an odd lazy breaker rearing its head occasionally. In the near distance (whatever that means!) I saw Havelock Island (Refer to me remark about the golf shot earlier!). This was too good an opportunity to miss so I donned my designer Speedo trunks and splashed around for a while, a bit like Daniel Craig in Casino Royale. The amazing thing about the waters of the Andaman Sea is that one does not feel icky and sticky afterwards. In fact, one can do without a fresh water shower later. But that’s my strictly my opinion! After the swim I possibly touched the pinnacle of idyllic luxury when I lay down on the beach, in the shade with a book and nariyal paani so thoughtfully being sold there. And did I mention that I was the only one on the beach that day?




    If there is a grey area on Neil Island it has to be the eating places. In all my visits to the island, I have not yet dared to eat at any one of the places which seem to be involved in the business of selling food. There are quite a few of them in the main village square but they are squalid and look unhealthy. There is one place though where there is a constant presence of foreigners, but it’s hard to tell if they die after the first meal or are repeat offenders.

    My guide urged me to hurry. “Come Sir! Low tide go, you no go”, were his cryptic words. We hurtled off in the Maruti Omni which I think is the one of the worst abominations on Indian roads, or off them for that matter. Soon he had veered off the narrow metalled road and the Omni’s tyres were struggling to grip the increasingly sandy terrain. Just as I was about to caution him, he stopped and declared “We have arrived”. We proceeded to a little thicket by way of a narrow track and suddenly, as the track descended rapidly, I found myself looking out at a vast expanse of bones and the sea beyond. Closer examination revealed they were not bones but millions of pieces of finger corals deposited over what, a million years? My guide took me across this white ocean much like Dumbledore leading Harry Potter across the evil cave. I saw a magnificent rock arch reminiscent of the photographs of Krabi in Thailand which, by the look of things, must become awash at high tide. But it was around this arch where the real secret of Laxmanpur Beach II lay. The water had receded at low tide leaving behind a fantastic array of corals and natural aquariums. Thankful to digital technology, I took out my camera and became oblivious to all but the click of the camera shutter and the drone of the guide’s voice till he reminded me I’d miss the sunset if we did not hurry.








    Loathe to leave this most spectacular of beaches, I unwillingly walked back and we found ourselves at Laxmanpur Beach I. The sand on this beach is absolutely remarkable. It is soft – and I mean soft and fine and wonderful to touch. I kicked off my shoes to savour this walk up to sunset point. I turned the corner at the southernmost point on Neil Island to be greeted by a clear horizon and an out of the world sunset. The sun was like an orange comet descending into the grey waters as a speedboat went by, perfectly silhouetted. I could have died right there. That is why I say Neil is my Havelock.

    The next day I went back to the jetty to catch a boat back to Port Blair and realised that the only thing that can rival the Disembarkation Disease is the Embarkation Epidemic! But then that’s half the fun of staying in a country called India!

3 comments:

  1. Absolute delight to read. Add writing to your photography talent as well. Abhinav, you should join NGC when you eventually get the opportunity :)
    Loved this post. Will go through others!
    What a marvellous start!

    ReplyDelete

  2. Report Bugs Topic tells about the bug reports of this blogs....



    Neil Island Andaman

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  3. Hey keep posting such good and meaningful articles.

    ReplyDelete