Memoirs of a Wandering Viking, Chapter 1: Stranded in the Sundarbans

In 2007, when I was in my early 20s, I travelled to India with a friend of mine. It was my first major trip outside of Europe and my first time in Asia. At that age, most of my understanding of the world still came from European society, books, television, and whatever limited experience I’d by then managed to gather through other means.

India changed that very quickly.

Everything there felt and was bigger, more intense, more unpredictable. I had my entire 20s as well as my adult life ahead of me, and what felt like an enormous world waiting to be explored.

Some memories from that trip are beautiful. Some are chaotic. Some are both.

Into the Sundarbans Tiger Reserve

One of the events that really stands out occurred when we were in Kolkata and decided to visit the Sundarbans Tiger Reserve, an excursion which didn’t exactly go as planned.

First of all, I don’t know how many fucking buses, boat rides, bicycle taxis, and more boat rides we had to endure in order to finally reach our destination.

Then, as soon as we arrived, the management of the tiger reserve, or whatever they were, welcomed us in the warmest possible way, namely by accusing us of stealing something like 100 rupees from them.

I have to admit that they definitely seemed like seasoned and skillful investigators. I mean, after all, we paid at least 1,000 rupees to sit in uncomfortable buses and other modes of transportation for several hours just to get to the reserve. To do all that in order to carry out this evil master plan of stealing 100 rupees, which back in 2007 would have been less than two euros, that does make complete sense, right?

As a matter of fact, it would have been a grand plan, wouldn’t it? Too bad that we got caught, or we would have been able to enjoy a life full of wealth and happiness beyond our wildest imagination.

Jokes aside, of course we did not steal 100 rupees. I remember getting pissed off about it and telling them all to go f themselves. Things were close of getting even wilder, but finally everybody calmed down.

Then, after many ifs and buts, it was time to go on the tour of the tiger reserve.

We went on a boat up along one of the many waterways of the surrounding mangrove forest and had a guide with us. He was constantly getting all excited over all these different birds, but I couldn’t care less about them. I just wanted to see some tigers.

After a while we arrived at a tower that was used as a viewpoint, overlooking a field where it was common for the tigers to come looking for food. We stood there for quite a while, but did not see any trace of the predators. We therefore had to go back to the boat feeling deeply disappointed.

However, ten minutes or so after we had left the tower, the guide got a phone call. He was speaking in one of the local languages, so I did not understand a word. It was only a short conversation though.

The guide then hung up and told us, “Oh, you’re really unlucky, guys. The tigers came by a few minutes after we left the tower.”

Well, that’s just fucking awesome, mate. Thanks for sharing that with us! I guess his momma never taught him that some things should just be kept to yourself.

As if this was not enough, the piece-of-shit boat driver then wanted money to take us back across the river after the unsuccessful tour. It was a very short distance and it was not part of the deal.

The principle of the matter is what made me snap at the scumbag.

Unfortunately, we did not have much of a choice but to pay the piece of shit. Even though it was a short distance, swimming in the river was not an alternative because it was full of crocodiles.

As a matter of fact, they ended up being the coolest animals we saw during the entire tour.

Trying to be positive about it, at least we got someone to practice English swearwords and name-calling on once we went with that asshole over the river.

There was a hotel right where we got off the boat which actually looked decent considering where we were — out in the middle of nowhere. It even had air conditioning according to the signs on the exterior, the most important thing for me when choosing accommodation in that heat.

However, after the wonderful little trip full of positivity and newfound friendships that we had just suffered through, we just wanted to get as far away from that place as possible.

This was despite the fact that somewhere in the back of our minds, as night started to kick in, we realized that we were not going to make it in time to any of the boats out of the Sundarbans.

What followed was an amazing experience though.

Fireflies in the Sundarbans

I remember how we were just sitting in a bicycle taxi surrounded by complete darkness, with little more than the jungle and its sounds surrounding us, when all of a sudden fireflies started appearing.

At first there were only a few.

Then there were dozens.

Then hundreds.

And within what felt like seconds, there were thousands of fireflies everywhere around us.

It was a moment that is difficult to properly describe, because it felt like a dream.

Sitting there in the darkness, surrounded by thousands of tiny lights moving in every direction, I almost felt like I was floating through space with stars moving all around me.

It was nature putting on its own light show, and I remember just sitting there completely amazed by what I was witnessing.

What further added to the magic was the fact that there seemed to be some kind of festival or celebration taking place in the area that night.

As the bicycle taxi carried us through these small villages, we kept passing large groups of people gathered around enormous bonfires, celebrating together in the night.

After all the bullshit earlier that day — being accused of stealing 100 rupees, missing the tigers by 10 minutes, arguing with the boat driver — this completely unexpected experience made the entire trip to the Sundarbans worth it.

Unfortunately, though, our adventurous trip was not over yet.

Stranded in the Sundarbans for the Night

We finally arrived at the last village we had travelled to by boat earlier that day.

However, just like we had feared, the boats had stopped going for the day.

This village was very remotely located, and we just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

We even tried to bribe people to take us across the river, but they all said that it was too dangerous at night since the water was full of crocodiles out hunting for food.

Apparently, there were also tigers roaming around in the vicinity of the village.

I mean, sure, I wanted to see a tiger, but not if it meant that I would end up as its dinner. That was not exactly the type of wildlife experience I was looking for.

As someone with a very Scandinavian look, I did stand out among the people of the village, to say the least.

I therefore felt like all of them were staring at me, and they probably were.

The village was so far off the beaten track that we even had a hard time finding a hotel.

I remember how we ate at one of the local restaurants and then went to the local police station to see if we could get any help finding a place to sleep there.

We had to wait there for quite a while, but in the end the police helped us find a room in a dilapidated building.

I would not even call it a hotel.

That is how bad shape the place was in.

The roof looked like it was about to collapse at any moment.

But that was not the worst.

Far from it.

As the people who were taking care of the place opened the door to one of the rooms, I could just see how my friend’s eyes went wide open. There was proper fear in his eyes.

He was more or less frozen by the fear, but still managed to point at something on the wall.

I therefore looked in the direction he was pointing and saw the biggest fucking spider I have ever seen.

I immediately recognized it as a camel spider since I had previously seen some videos online featuring those monsters.

When the guys who were in charge of the building saw our reaction, they were like, “Oh, no problem, no problem,” then grabbed a broom and just swept the spider off the wall so that it fell onto the floor.

It then ran in underneath the bed.

That must have been the worst fucking attempt at solving a problem in the history of mankind.

Before they swept the spider off the wall, at least we knew where the hell it was.

Now, we had no clue.

We were still in a state of mind that can best be described as shock, but did manage to get another room.

However, knowing that the spider was still around was enough to make us feel extremely uncomfortable.

Furthermore, knowing that it was very likely that there were more camel spiders around didn’t exactly make things any better.

I think I slept around five minutes that night.

I’m actually surprised that I managed to doze off at all, even just for a couple of minutes.

It was a clear sign of how exhausted I was after an extremely hectic day.

As a matter of fact, I didn’t wake up by myself.

Something woke me up in the middle of the night.

At first, I did not know what it was.

To make things even better, there was a power cut in the village.

It was therefore pitch black, and I couldn’t see anything at all.

I immediately assumed that it was the camel spider that had woken me up, so I felt uneasy to say the least.

However, I soon realized that it was something a bit less sinister that was the culprit.

The walls of that place — I don’t even know if I can call them walls — were so fucking thin that I could literally hear the guys in the next room farting. That’s what had woken me up.

And they farted a lot.

And loud.

Whatever they had for dinner that evening, I do not want to try it.

I had no choice but to lie down again, pray that the camel spider wasn’t in the room and try to fall asleep to the romantic sound of constant farting.

Once again, I managed to fall into what can best be described as a kind of semi-sleeping state of mind.

I lay there for a while until the alarm finally went off.

Apparently, I then told my friend that I wanted to snooze, something he quickly made me realize was a crazy idea.

I had forgotten where we were and what could be lurking just underneath the bed.

Remembering reality woke me up quicker than if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over me, and off we went.

The Morning Boat Ride

Once we had gotten out of the hotel, we saw a man who we asked for directions to the jetty.

Of course, he turned out to be a crazy person.

He was mute and therefore used gestures to signal for us to follow him, which is of course not what I mean when claiming he was crazy.

Thankfully, he actually led us to the jetty but then got on the boat with us for some reason, which I found suspicious since he was heading in the other direction when we had run in to him earlier.

Also, it was quite a long boat ride that we had ahead of us, at least an hour.

I knew right away why he got on the boat though, and I think you know it too.

He wanted money.

Since I had slept so, so well at the village version of the Hilton Hotel, with lovely pets such as camel spiders and tigers roaming around, I was extremely tired.

To be more precise, I could barely keep my eyes open.

However, every time I was about to doze off the crazy man would tap me on the shoulder and point really enthusiastically at… nothing.

This went on for the entire boat ride, but I was too tired to even get angry and therefore just played along with it.

I would say things like, “Oh, wow, awesome, a piece of air or some water,” every time he tapped my shoulder and pointed at nothing.

I’m at least quite sure that he wasn’t pointing at a mermaid or the local version of the Loch Ness Monster, but you never know.

Once we got to a village from which we were going to take a bus, I got the feeling that the pointing man was a local celebrity, not only in his village but in the whole area.

Shortly thereafter he ended up asking us for money, just as I had expected.

---

This is the first of many travel anecdotes I’ll be sharing on The Viking Observer. Stories from the road—some funny, some chaotic, some unsettling, and some simply unforgettable—will return as a recurring part of the blog under the title Memoirs of a Wandering Viking.

Before I even had time to react however, this other man came out of nowhere and just clocked the crazy man right in the face.

Then he yelled something at him.

Obviously not friendly words.

I feel bad about that now when I think back on it.

But at the time, I just remember being so sick and tired of people asking me for money that I didn’t care that the pointing man got knocked out.

Also, I was not in the best shape at the time, to say the least. Neither mentally, as a result of barely getting any sleep whatsoever, nor physically, since it was so fucking hot that I literally looked as if I had swum the whole way with my clothes on.

Back to Kolkata

Shortly after the pointing man got knocked out, we got on the bus and started making our way back to Kolkata.

I had never spent a night in that type of living condition and poverty before, so I had a bit of an eye-opener.

Or so I thought at the time at least.

I remember how the guy I was travelling with and I were sitting in one of the buses on the way back to Kolkata, talking about how we would never complain about “Western problems” ever again.

After having experienced life in the Indian countryside, our own problems seemed like jokes in comparison to those of the people living there.

One thing that really stood out to me was how the boat where the pointing man had joined us would stop at these little clay islands in the river and pick people up on their way to work.

On one of those islands, a man boarded who was dressed like any office worker, but he lived in a clay hut and his whole family stood there waving goodbye to him as he left.

Seeing that really stayed with me for some reason.

Living in those kinds of conditions without things like air conditioning and the comforts I was used to would have been a total nightmare for me.

It really made me think about how privileged and ridiculous some of the things we complained about back home actually were and still are.

Our great little insight didn’t last very long though.

At least not for me.

When we finally reached Kolkata and got back to the hotel, it took me about five minutes before I started complaining about how the air conditioning in our room was too loud.

So much for that deep insight about life and its hardships.

(I just want to add that I still encourage people to visit Sundarban. It’s a beautiful place, my visit was 19 years ago at the time of writing, so much could have changed when it comes to the management of the tiger reserve. Also, we visited at a really bad time of the year, that could also explain what happened. I am sure that visiting the tiger reserve at the right time of the year can be amazing. Have a look at this video for example.)

For background on this setting, see UNESCO’s Sundarbans National Park overview. You can also meet the writer behind these travel memoirs.

Continue Memoirs of a Wandering Viking

Explore the full Memoirs of a Wandering Viking series, or continue directly to Chapter 2: A Recreational Haven.