Writing the last post made me want to write more about the trip: an online diary to preserve it as much as possible. Also, if I'm completely honest, I'm supposed to be writing scripts for a project I'm working on (my life is distressingly millennial these days. It's 10 am and I'm at a cafe drinking iced lattes and typing on a Macbook that isn't mine) and as usual, I don't feel like working. I wonder what life is like for people who do.
Anyway, I'm going to mostly skip the first day at Port Blair although it was eventful. Here's a brief summary though:
Port Blair reminded me of a crowded mountain town. This was because it was a) crowded, b) mountainous, c) a town. Many parts of it smelled very strongly of fish. Understandable, considering it's by the sea and populated by numerous Bengalis. Sens, Ghoshes and Boses had their signs plastered everywhere.
We spent most of the day trying to get tickets to Havelock. Apparently the government doesn't like people going to Havelock (there was also some festival happening) because they made it as difficult as possible. If you're a tourist, you can't use government ferries anymore which was very disappointing because they're the open ones, with no roof. All the private ones were booked but after five hours of walking from travel agent to travel agent, we found one who fell victim to my mother's pleas.
(My mother is very good at pleading when she wants to be. Her usual aggressive and dominant personality is cloaked by this helpless woman sort of persona and the poor fools who fall for it fall over themselves trying to help her.)
We left for Havelock early the next morning. It was a private ferry and you had to sit below the deck. The windows were carefully designed to obstruct the view and nearly all the passengers (mostly Bengali) took out egg sandwiches and started eating them. I finished my own egg sandwich within the first fifteen minutes and took a short nap. When I woke up, the boat was moving and I joined Addu on deck.
The deck was not large but I found a corner and leaned against the rails, facing the sea. Give me that vicious salt-laden wind over the heavy, comatose scent of mountain pines any day. I spent the next ten minutes admiring the way the boat sped past some clouds, while others valiantly kept up with the sea - as well as examining the deep blue water in desperate hopes of spotting a shark fin. (I knew no reasonable shark would be swimming close to a ferry at 9 in the morning but I was hoping for an unreasonable one.)
Something that left a very sour taste in my mouth happened after. People started coming on deck but instead of enjoying the wind or looking at the sea, they just started taking selfies. I swear to you, not one person looked at the view. They were too busy capturing themselves instead of something so much greater.
People suck.
And then they made all of us go down so a second batch of people could come up to take more selfies. I was furious and disgusted and went back to sleep until we reached Havelock.
Barefoot Scuba Resort is about ten minutes away from the docks by auto. Addu, Mum and I got into one auto. Our luggage was put in a second auto that followed us. Both autos drove recklessly which is why, for those ten minutes, I was subject to my mother leaning across me, sticking her head out of our auto and shrieking, "OHMYGOD. LOOK AT THE WAY THAT AUTO IS DRIVING. I CAN SEE MY SUITCASE. EEEK! IT'S GOING TO FALL OUT. OHMYGOD."
She only paused to shriek about our own auto whenever it took a violent swerve. No words, just shrieks and gasps. I don't know how Addu handles the woman. Seriously.
Havelock reminded me of South Goa. Slopes, seas, trees. Fresh air and not too many cars. After what could have been a delightful journey, we pulled up at Barefoot. Mum and Addu had a cottage - a lovely big room with a verandah, dressing room and open-plan bathroom. And I had a hut. - a tiny, dark room on stilts with enough space for a mattress and not much else. It sounds like I'm complaining but I don't mean to. It was charming and comfortable and I spent many happy hours there, nursing my aches and bruises after a hard day's dive. (Although I did use their bathroom for as long as they were there.)
My course was going to start the next day. We spent that first morning in the sea. It was beautiful but disappointing because the tide had gone out and there were too many rocks to swim properly. Coming back to shore was a pain - it was the first time I realised how painful and difficult rocks can be to navigate. Unfortunately it wouldn't be the last.
We had lunch at another beach resort down the road. Addu had been there before. When we were halfway there (it was hot and I was hungry), he stopped and said, "Hm. Come to think of it, we should have walked the other way." I wasn't forced to strangle him though because he checked with a local cigarette-wallah and was told we were going the right way after all.
The sun had set by the time we finished eating. (I also started smoking openly in front of my mother, I am just too old to slink into a corner and light up and it is so pointless when both she and I know that I smoke. Plus, I am no longer financially dependent on her which means she can't use the whole "technically I am paying for those filthy cancer sticks" - bonus points for originality, mother - as an angle of attack anymore)
Anyway, I was in bed by 9 pm, ready to start my course the next day.
And I swear I'm going to write about it soon.
