Well, we didn’t do much more with our full day in Cox’s Bazar, mainly as there’s not a lot to do! After popping the last deluge of posts on, we got a rickshaw to the Blue Ocean hotel. This was where we’d arranged to meet Mr Chowdhury, the chap we’d met on the bus.

Our rickshaw driver got really arsey when we tried to give him 50Tk for a 20Tk ride – he was demanding the usual 200Tk from us. He went so far as to park up and follow us halfway to the hotel shouting “Howareyou?! Howareyou?!” after us. Obviously, his English was limited to a few phrases without knowing what they meant.

We met Ekramul in reception and he invited us in for a drink before lunch where we were introduced to two of his business partners. We sat and chatted for a while, but had to leave before lunch as Hans and I were both feeling lousy. Having a cold really sucks. This was a shame as it was really nice to be invited to lunch in a strange country by someone we’d only just met – but this seems typical of the welcome we’ve come to expect in Bangladesh.

Instead, we wandered back to our hotel and laid down for an hour or so partly snoozing, partly channel hopping. Later in the afternoon, we took a walk to the Angel Drop restaurant which is mentioned in Lonely Planet. Unfortunately, we caught them on their break between lunch and dinner but did have the most delicious cup of lemon tea ever. Well worth the 10Tk each.

For a late lunch, we returned to the little restaurant where we’d had dinner the night before and then walked back to the hotel. Then went back to the restaurant a couple of hours later for some more food. Then back to the hotel to watch the footie, which we couldn’t as the power was out again.

And that was pretty much our day. Cox’s Bazar isn’t Goa by any stretch, although from what Ekramul and his friend were telling us it could just be a matter of time. The government have been buying up tracts of land along the coast for development into tourist-friendly resorts. The coastline along here is 200km after all.

Our final trip within Bangladesh is to Cox’s Bazar and today pretty much just consisted of the bus ride there. We woke and packed, about to leave our room when reception called us to let us know Mahmud was downstairs. We were expecting him to meet us at the bus office, so that was a pleasant surprise. He’s certainly keen to take good care of us!

After a quick rickshaw ride over, we had breakfast with him and he then left for the office while we waited for the bus to arrive. Arrive it did, and we climbed on board our second long-distance coach in two days. Again, it was fairly comfy but not as good as the one from the day before. Still, far better than the ones in India – as are the roads, incidentally. The overnight bus from Bangalore to Goa had bounced around like a ship on high seas. The road surfaces in Bangladesh are generally very good.

There’s not a lot to write about the journey. It’s amazing how many people walk out into the road without looking, though. Or who look, see something so huge bearing down on them their brains can’t comprehend it and then just stroll out anyway. I think most of them go by sonar as they trust their hearing to pick up the blast of a horn more than they trust their eyes that there’s a big chuffing bus bearing down on them. One woman came so close to getting wiped out by the truck in front of us I actually closed my eyes.

We did have one delay just outside Chittagong, but neither of us know why. The bus seemed to be pulled over by a police officer for some reason, and then just sat there for almost an hour before simply setting off again.

Eventually, we arrived in Cox’s Bazar and we jumped off to be greeted by the usual bunch of rickshaw-wallahs wanting our business. We took two for the short ride to the hotel and then laughed in their faces when they asked for 200Tk for the journey. Hotel reception gave them short shrift and they left with the more correct fare of 10Tk each.

The room’s the usual and fairly spacious, and we do have a TV. Also, it’s Saturday and they usually have ESPN on the TVs here so I can watch the footie. Only… there’s a power cut. The generator seems to be working fine to power the lights but the satellite feed’s down. ARGH.

We did take a short wander out to get some money, food and snacks. Hans ended up in conversation with a small girl who followed him for ages, trying to give him a little starfish in exchange for some “bakhsheesh”. He ended up running around a gaggle of rickshaws to try and hide from her. Well, he will insist on speaking to all the kids he meets.

So not a lot to do this evening but sit and read (I’ve finished four books this week already) and sleep (I’ve slept enough for three nights on the two bus journeys). Tomorrow we’ll look around the area and go to a picnic we were invited to by a guy on the bus, and the day after we go for a trip to St Martin’s Island.

Oh, and my stomach is pretty much on the mend but I now have a headcold. Great.

Our very short stay in Mongla saw us wake up and head down to the dock with our guide. He owns (or at least operates) a boat, and we took a 2-hour rid into the Sundarbans, the largest littoral mangrove forest. In fairness, two hours is enough to get to the entrance to the area where you require a permit and then head back again. As a result, we saw more of the human life along the river’s edge than we saw in the way of wildlife. Apparently deeper in, there is a huge collection of fascinating creatures including Bengal tigers. Having said that, I did catch sight of a dolphin or something popping out of the water. I only caught two glimpses of this creature, so I’m not 100% certain what it was, but it was certainly big, grey and smooth enough to have been a dolphin and such animals do live in the area.

On returning to dry land, we collected our bags and were bundled onto one of the numerour local buses to get us up to Khulna, the largest city in the area. The journey was a little over an hour, and not too expensive although we had to pay for four seats due to the size of our rucksacks! The legroom left a little to be desired as well. Essentially, they’d measured the bus up for normal Bangladeshis (who seem to be about the same dimensions as myself) and then jammed an extra two rows of seats in. A family of Chinese pygmies could perhaps have travelled in relative comfort.

We had some time to spare in Khulns before our bus to Dhaka arrived, so we grabbed lunch at the Hotel Royal and attempted to use the internet connection at their business centre, but it broke. Outside the bus office, one young kid played hide and seek with us for about an hour after I gave him a packet of biscuits. At first he seemed pleased, then he realised he was getting them instead of cash, not as well as. Can’t blame him for trying, though.

The highlight of the day was Hans having the tables turned on him by a couple of beggars. A woman approached us with the usual baby in arms, miming for food and money while rattling off in Bangla (which, obviously, she seemed to think we’d understand). We made the usual “no Taka” gestures, while I pulled out my empty pocket lining to prove a point. She poked at my rucksack as if it was a cunningly disguised picnic hamper and wasn’t impressed when I showed her it contained a bundle of wires and a toothbrush.

Hans, however, did the usual “him Taka” routine, pointing at another Bangladeshi. Eventually, the beggar woman took pity on poor, penniless Hans… and handed him a 2Tk coin! She refused to take it back and it eventually ended up in the hands of another (very confused looking) female beggar. The crowd which had gathered were in stitches.

Our bus rescued us and we settled in for the comfy journey up to Dhaka. A good job the seats were good (including built-in massager) as it proved to be a much longer trek than we’d expected. Our arrival time was supposed to be around 8pm. Due to a holdup at a river crossing, we didn’t reach Dakah until almost midnight.

The bus station wasn’t too far from our hotel, but the first taxi driver was insistent that we pay him 200Tk for the trip. We tried haggling down to 150Tk. No? OK, how about 175Tk? No, OK, how about the taxi behind you? That guy instantly asked for 100Tk, a much fairer price. We jumped in while the first taxi driver called after us. Too late, pal. You had your chance.

A quick checkin and the hotel told us of a place to eat around the corner. Handy as we’d not eaten since Khulna. We just had rice, curried mixed veg and dall for two plus a couple of Cokes. No way could we finish all they gave us, and it was decent grub. The bill was a minute 74T – 50 pence, give or take. For two people. Unreal.

While we were eating, the staff had been spooning meals into little cardboard boxes and wandering outside with them. As we left, we saw a queue of beggars chowing down on the free food. Hans has worked in a lot of Muslim areas and this is apparently just part of the Muslim “code”. As well as giving some of your income to charity, giving food to the poor and welcoming travellers are also encouraged. Hence why Hans couldn’t go more then 100 yards in eastern Turkey without being offered a cup of tea!

We’d slept for ages on the bus – nothing else to do – so ended up sitting around till 1:30am to catch the Simpsons again. Worth the wait as it was an other episode neither of us had seen. Alarms set for 7:30, we finally nodded off.

A pretty relaxing day, partly as there’s not a lot to do on a boat that’s ambling down a river. We slept quite late, being woken by the waiter knocking at our door around 10:00. Then we slept for another hour. Best night’s sleep in a couple of weeks, I think.

Breakfast was omelette and toast with some fish and chips on the side and a rather delicious cup of tea. Hans milled around the ship a little while I bulldozed through another Jack Reacher novel.

A small girl kept popping her head into our room and nattering away in passable English. At one point, she’d just seen a plane in the sky outside (a big one, I confirmed). Cute as the proverbial. It turns out she was a stowaway, having followed us onboard at Dhaka! The staff said they’d feed her and take her back up on the return trip. I think it’s fairly commonplace. Maybe she’ll grow up with the same urge to travel and a budget to go further – or the cheek to manage it on the sly!

There was also another white man on board. Our first non-Bangladeshi in Bangladesh! He was a Swedish man who’d just headed down from a trek in the hills with his guide who, it turned out, knew the chap we were to meet when we arrived at our destination.

Lunch was the same food as we’d had for dinner the night before and we sat and read, took photos and snoozed until around 7pm when we docked at Mongla.

In the near-darkness, we disembarked and sat on the back of a cycle-drawn cart while a young boy pedalled like bonkers to get us over the rough ground. I’d not like to come up against him in a kicking contest. he may have been small, but I reckon he could beat a mule into second place.

After a short ride, we stepped onto a boat to be taken across the river to the Hotel Pashur where we would be staying the night. It’s by far the poshest place in the area and still ludicrously cheap by western standards. OK, it’s still also rough and ready by western standards but it has comfy beds and a hot shower. What else do you need?

We ordered dinner and in the half hour wait for it to be served walked out of the main gates to walk around. There’s very little on this side of the river, so we settled on having a cup of tea (2Tk) and bought some biscuits and water for later on.

Dinner was pretty good – Hans going for enough rice and dall to feed three people (he almost finished it) while I listened to my recovering tummy and went for chicken schnitzel and chips. Pricewise, it’s fairly expensive for Bangladesh but that’s what happens when you eat in hotel restaurants.

With not a whole lot else to do, we made full use of the lovely hot shower and then sat and read for a bit before bed. Definitely a chilled-out day or so.