A Journey to India’s Hidden Paradise

Tucked away in the sparkling turquoise waters of the Bay of Bengal, thousands of kilometers from the bustling mainland of India, lie the Andaman Islands. This chain of tropical isles feels like a dreamy escape from reality. With lush jungles, pristine white beaches, vibrant coral reefs, and a rich colonial history, the Andamans are a world apart. Though politically part of India, geographically and culturally, they are something entirely unique. Of the 500+ islands, many remain uninhabited and untouched, offering a rare glimpse of untamed beauty. Among travelers, the stars of the Andamans are Port Blair, Havelock (now Swaraj Dweep), and the secluded Long Island – and this is where my unforgettable island adventure began.

Escaping the Chaos

After a whirlwind month of non-stop travel across India, I hit a wall. The constant movement, the crowds, the noise – it all became overwhelming. I needed an escape, a place far from everything. That’s when I decided to change my plans. Instead of heading north, I would travel south to the Andaman Islands. Not by plane, but by ship. With more time than money, and a love for sea travel, I booked a spot on a large passenger ship bound for Port Blair from Calcutta, a journey of 1,550 kilometers.

1550 Kilometers Across the Sea

I thought I knew what to expect from my previous sea voyages in Indonesia, but this journey was different. My assigned berth was deep down on the third lower deck, a massive, windowless hall packed with triple bunk beds. The air was thick, and the space was already crammed with people. It was clear I wouldn’t last there. So, I set off exploring the ship and found a semi-sheltered corner on the second upper deck – shaded, quiet, and away from the chaos. Soon, other backpackers joined me: an Australian, an Englishman, and a young Swede – their names were (I am not jocking) Peter, Pete, and Peter. We quickly formed a little deck community, sharing snacks, watching the horizon, and keeping an eye on each other’s gear. The food on board was basic, but with plenty of snacks, we managed just fine.

Arriving in Port Blair and Meeting the Past

After three and a half days at sea, we arrived in Port Blair, the capital of the Andamans. It was a surprisingly busy town but with a much calmer energy than the Indian mainland. We checked into a budget hotel, where I had my first encounter with bedbugs – a classic backpacker nightmare. But Port Blair had more to offer. One highlight was visiting the infamous Cellular Jail, a colonial-era prison built by the British. Known as “Kala Pani,” it once held Indian freedom fighters in brutal solitary confinement. The prison is haunting, with its tiny cells and cold corridors. A light and sound show in the evening brought the stories of those imprisoned there vividly to life, leaving us with a powerful and chilling experience. Between history lessons, we found time for pleasure too, discovering a fantastic little restaurant serving fresh, flavorful local dishes.

Havelock’s Hidden Shores: A Tale of Isolation and Beauty

After a few days in the city, we felt the pull of the wild. The Aussie Peter headed off alone for some pre-planned island hopping, while the other Peter, Pete, and I boarded a ferry to Havelock Island, or Swaraj Dweep, in search of solitude. Our destination: Beach No. 7, now known as Radhanagar Beach – a six-kilometer stretch of untouched shoreline with no hotels, no infrastructure, no locals, no shops. (1994) Nothing but ocean, sand, and jungle. We rented three small tents in Port Blair and bought enough food for several days from a village shop near the Havelock jetty. English Peter had a cooking pot in his luggage, and we picked up some plates and utensils. We found a local family at the end of the road who allowed us to refill water from their home. We took a bus across the island to reach our beach. And yes – it was exactly as we had hoped: completely empty. We found a spot a few meters from the beach, inside the jungle, to set up our little island camp, pitch our tents, built a firepit. Cooking over an open flame wasn’t easy – the humidity and occasional nighttime rain made it hard to get a fire going – but we managed. Those days felt magical. No other people. Just the sound of the waves, the rustling jungle, and the soft wind. We walked for kilometers along the beach without meeting a single soul. Time slowed. Nothing to do. Nothing to be. Just existence.

Long Island, Wounds, and Small Miracles

After a few blissful days, we caught a small boat to Long Island – even more remote and rarely visited by foreigners. The landscapes were stunning: tropical jungles, untouched beaches, colorful reefs. The locals were friendly, warm, and completely unpushy and genuine. But paradise came with a price. A small cut on my foot turned into a nasty, open wound, which refused to heal despite every remedy I tried. The tropical moisture seemed to make it worse. Strangely enough, once I returned to the dry mainland climate, the wound began healing on its own, without any further treatment. A small tropical mystery.

Farewell to Paradise

Back in Port Blair, we reunited with the Aussie Peter. Together we took a few more short trips – including one to Ross Island, a former British administrative hub now completely reclaimed by nature. Roots grow through old buildings, deer roam abandoned barracks – the jungle has taken it all back. Over the course of a month, we explored the main island and many of the surrounding small, uninhabited paradise islets. Some we passed by boat, others we briefly visited – each one more beautiful and remote than the last. Eventually, the other guys flew back to Calcutta. I stayed true to the sea and boarded another ship, this time bound for Madras (Chennai).

Conclusion

The Andamans were more than just a destination for me – they were a reset. A remedy for overstimulation, a slice of paradise that gave me space to breathe, reflect, and simply be. I found adventure, peace, and deep connection – to people, to nature, and to myself. After this rejuvenating escape, I felt ready for another month of traveling on the Indian mainland. So if you ever find yourself overwhelmed, burnt out, or lost – maybe what you need isn’t more motion. Maybe what you need… is an island.