Not sure what was worst, our heads after Marit's birthday extravagnza, or the chaos that unfolded as we queued for boat tickets to the Andamans!
Marit's birthday really was crazy night - ended somewhat prematurely when a hotel porter advised us that romantic dancing on the roof of the building probably would'nt go down to well with the local police (well these folk should think twice before leaving bamboo ladders perilously perched against balconies more or less inviting drunken travellers to climb upwards) - and the 7am rise was most unwelcome!
10am the queuing started, and we'd made the front. Strange then, don't you think, that it wasn't until nearly 1pm we secured our bunks aboard the "Nicobar" despite being first in the queue. Course we have to explain here how the Indian's queue, they don't. Instead these smelly muppets cheat and conspire their way to the front using whatever means necessary. Our situation wasn't helped either by the jobsworths employed (by whom I'll never know) by the Director of Shipping, who spend longer sipping chai behind drawn curtains than doing what they're paid to do. Bloody Indians!
Still, a couple of hours of shouting and elbowing later we emerged from the crowd clutching our tickets - elated that we were indeed bound for paradise. But first we have a few weeks in Kerala to look forward to.
Marit's birthday really was crazy night - ended somewhat prematurely when a hotel porter advised us that romantic dancing on the roof of the building probably would'nt go down to well with the local police (well these folk should think twice before leaving bamboo ladders perilously perched against balconies more or less inviting drunken travellers to climb upwards) - and the 7am rise was most unwelcome!
10am the queuing started, and we'd made the front. Strange then, don't you think, that it wasn't until nearly 1pm we secured our bunks aboard the "Nicobar" despite being first in the queue. Course we have to explain here how the Indian's queue, they don't. Instead these smelly muppets cheat and conspire their way to the front using whatever means necessary. Our situation wasn't helped either by the jobsworths employed (by whom I'll never know) by the Director of Shipping, who spend longer sipping chai behind drawn curtains than doing what they're paid to do. Bloody Indians!
Still, a couple of hours of shouting and elbowing later we emerged from the crowd clutching our tickets - elated that we were indeed bound for paradise. But first we have a few weeks in Kerala to look forward to.
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