Flying domestically in Bangladesh is a novelty which becomes obvious when seeing the small airports, small prop planes, infrequent services and minimal security.  It took us two domestic flights, numerous delays, a little bit of courage and a good sense of humour to fly from Jessore in the west to Cox’s Bazar in the southeast but the reward was to feast our eyes on the longest beach in the world and to dive into another aspect of life in Bangladesh.

Cox’s Bazar is Bangladesh’s equivalent of the Gold Coast, Miami Beach, the south of France or Phuket but with its own unique features that make it like no other.  For instance, the continuous beach is 120 km (72 miles) long and no other beach in the world comes close to that. 

In most places the beach is at least 200 metres wide and at low tide can be an astonishing 300 metres from the edge of the sand to the edge of the water.  So we’re talking about a lot of beach.  And most amazing, no matter where you go you won’t find a single person wearing their swimmers, lying in the sun or having a refreshing dip in the surf.  In this strictly conservative Muslim country those activities are strictly forbidden for everyone.

After checking into the Ocean Paradise Resort (only the best for us!) we walked down to the beach to get an up close view of this monster.  As they say, the devil is in the detail.  There was very little surf coming off the Bay of Bengal and the ‘sand’  is a bit dark in places like it has an element of mud mixed in.  But the crowds were out in force, enjoying the late afternoon sun, walking along the water’s edge, taking photos of themselves (and us). 

There were beach lounges and umbrellas but typically a fully dressed family would hire a lounge and sit on the corners in a not-too-comfortable sort of way.  Other people chose to splash in the shallow water, again, fully dressed, and it was clearly a cool place to hang out for the young people.  Sort of like hanging out at the mall, but different.  But this is not what we planned when we set the itinerary and instead were thinking of two half days on the beach, a la Bali or Goa or Phuket. 

Further down the beach some entrepreneurs had a ski boat with big rubber tubes and a jetski.  This is where the real action was happening as fully dressed young people would pay their 200 Taka for a ride on the tube or on the back of a jetski.  It was a bit of a sight at first watching mostly men but some women in full saris hanging onto the tube for all their life.  We talked later on about the young Bengali definition of fun – it is certainly different than young people growing up in Australia.  With no coed socialisation, no drinking, very conservative dress and arranged marriages the young people here need to find different ways to enjoy themselves. 

 

With our smuggled gin and whisky from Thailand running desperately low we made enquiries about where a beer or gin could be had in Cox’s Bazar.  Intriguingly, two places were mentioned.  A quick rickshaw to one hotel scored us an expensive six pack but we had to put it in a brown paper bag and sneak it back to our room. 

 

Having scraped the plan to lie on the beach the next day we went to our favourite Plan B – hire a car and tootle down the coast (a proven plan on countless other occasions).  And we had a goal in mind, the town of Teknaf which is on the southernmost point of Bangladesh at the end of this beach and just across from Myanmar.  A more obscure place on the map you could not find.

In the end through some odd circumstances we ended up with a driver and a guide, Mr. Ripon, who was not invited and not expected but apparently took the day off work and came along anyway.  He proved to be good value, helping us understand some of the things we saw on the drive, taking us to some special places and making some insightful comments from time to time (for instance, “this is a long beach”).

Bangladesh is said to not have any rocks, a claim to fame you don’t hear very often, and its soil is rich from a millennia of rivers, rains and floods.  This southern stretch of land was no different with the unusual view of crops growing right up to the edge of the sand and small shanty homes perched on a dune with million dollar views. 

The road was mainly just a single lane, usually in poor condition, but we stopped at some of the key areas which local Bangalis go to, like Himachari Beach and the ‘famous’ Inani Beach.  Both featured endless sand in all directions, a dark haze on the horizon (a feature of this time of year apparently), almost completely bereft of any life and not a single redeeming factor as a beach in our western sense.  Very beautiful, we said, and moved on.

But what we were starting to come across was small fishing villages and with the villages you get fishing boats.  These boats were unique in that their bow and stern curved up much more than most boats, looking almost like a crescent moon.  As it was low tide they rested idly on the mud flats, their owners sleeping during the day and fishing during the evenings. 

We drove further south, past the modest dirt floor huts of local farmers, through huge groves of fruit palms and around harvested rice fields which would wait for the next rain before being planted again.  The slow daily rhythm of life was evident here, people going about their chores in what is their coolest time of the year, mending fields, replacing the palm frond roofs of their homes, casually feeding their chickens and goats.  We have no concept of the simple and challenging lives these people lead but we marvel at their strengths and fortitude. 

And suddenly, completely unexpectedly, we came to the end of the road, as far south as you can go, to the beach of Teknaf.  What we had stumbled on was a scene for all the ages, dozens of these crescent moon fishing boats, all brightly painted and flying colourful flags, being hauled up the beach to a safe high tide spot, lining the beach like sentinels in uniform waiting for an attack.  The view of these boats as they were literally rolled out of the surf was a stunning scene almost impossible to believe.  Julie and I wandered amongst them in awe of what we saw, truly one of the most spectacular scenes in all our travels.   

And as we stood there in awe, boat after boat arrived and hit the beach, quickly surrounded by helpers who maneuvered the curved bow of the boat up onto the axle of two huge rubber tires.  Then they would all push and pull the large boat above the high water line and unload the catch from their three day expedition.  We were told a typical catch would be worth about 10,000 Taka which was about $110 for three days of work and 10 fishermen.

Julie and I could have stayed all day such was the beauty of the scene but we needed to move on.  The drive home was on the inland road, slightly better quality but featured the same beautiful scenes of Bengali farming villages, minimal traffic but people everywhere.  We saw more than once lively games of cricket being played in harvested rice fields with cows in key fielding locations. 

It was dark before we got back to Cox’s Bazar and said good bye to Mr. Ripon.  We sniffed out the other place in town to have a beer and were led up a back set of stairs, through the kitchen and into a dark empty room where the man had room temperature beer for sale (yes, Bengali beer called Hunter, not too bad, probably better if colder).  And we loved them.

The next day we explored the town of Cox’s Bazar a bit, including the 18^th century Buddhist temple and monastery that was mainly there to support the large immigrant population from nearby Myanmar.  This large teak temple was a bit dusty but seriously cool; imagine the history it has seen as the people of this land with their different religions, cultures and languages came and went. 

We bought some souvenirs and an ice cream down near the beach then caught a flight back to Dhaka for one last night in Bangladesh before flying back to Bangkok the next day.  It was the end to a memorable holiday, full of surprises, friendly people, beautiful countryside and natural attractions.  There were challenges, especially the intensity of the culture and the constant attention foreigners receive.  There is no tourism infrastructure in Bangladesh, service standards can be very low and personal space non-existent.  But with a strong dose of curiosity, a fair bit of patience and numerous memory sticks for your camera this can be an immensely rewarding experience.  We’ll never forget it.