Monday January 28th - Ratargul

Sylhet's premier tourist draw is Ratargul Swamp Forest. It is the reason that we are here and our target today. Last night D held telephone negotiations with Sylhet's self proclaimed leading supplier of car hire. It is arranged that a car will pick us up, take us to Ratargul, wait while we do the tour and take us  back to the hotel. Money for old rope. This is followed up by a call from the driver who agrees to pick us up at 8 a.m. We have breakfasted and are all ready to go, waiting outside the front of the hotel on the hour. There is some broken cloud cover and it is noticeably cooler this morning. No complaints from us. Regular readers may recall the concept of Indian Standard Time, which dictates that somewhere between 15 and thirty minutes after the agreed time is correct. Does this also apply in Bangladesh?

Happily our man turns up only five minutes later in a car rather reminiscent of a Mark 4 Ford Cortina. We climb in and D confirms ' To Ratargul'. Lonely Planet suggests the place is 35 km north west of Sylhet, Google Maps puts it 20 km north east. Our driver appears to be in the Google camp as we head out of the city on a main road that veers between east and north east. Once in the countryside the road is mainly very good with only short rough stretches. We relax and watch the world go by.

After an hour D begins to think that we should have arrived by now and switches on the mapping system on the phone. We are rapidly closing with the border between Bangladesh and the Indian state of Meghalaya. We have come at least 30km past the turn off to Ratargul. D expresses his doubts to the driver who makes a phone call,  then turns the car round. There is a short cut we can take from this side which turns out to be a cross between a Devon lane and a sand pit. By the time we get to our destination we have been travelling for over two hours.

The driver has delivered us to an embankment overlooking a large area of wetland. There are some wooden boats, a sort of cross between a rowing boat and a punt, as well as a small group of young men. We are quoted 750 Taka (about £7) for a ninety minutes excursion which we agree to. The young man who is taking us out is called Abdul Qadir and we work out that his English is a little better than he lets on.

With some difficulty and no sense of balance we board the boat. Abdul sits at the back and paddles, seemingly without any great effort but we make good progress along a channel with high banks that restrict the view somewhat. We see several drongos and a couple of distant, unidentifiable large raptors. After five minutes or so the channel abruptly ends and we are signalled to disembark. Is that it?  We walk along a bund for 50 metres or so where we see more water and boats.

After another performance climbing in we set off through a narrow channel between trees. They look a bit like mangroves but we are no experts. The water opens out a bit and we can hear birds all around. Abdul draws our attention to some large birds roosting in the treetops. We are looking against the light and ID is difficult. Abdul suggests that they are spoonbills but the bird book doesn't think that they occur in these parts. We get a better view from a different angle and can tick Asian Open-Billed Storks off the list.

The boat is pulled up at a small clearing in the forest and we get out for a walk. The ground is baked mud and must be hard going when wet. Abdul explains that after the rains the water level is about 10 feet higher than current, which is confirmed by the air roots growing out of the tree branches. He has spotted our interest in birds and points out an Oriole for us as well as further 'spoonbills'. There are other groups of visitors, all male and some very noisy. It seems a strange place to bring a stag party. Most of them want photos with us but R puts her foot down.

The next stop is at a watchtower which provides views across the countryside for many miles. Bangladesh is an amazingly flat country. From the tower we see a flock of large birds approach. They settle to roost in the treetops and we are able to identify them as more Open-Billed Storks. At the foot of the tower a couple of enterprising locals have parked their boats selling water, snacks and mangoes. D is not permitted to eat Jhal Muri whether from vendors on boat, train or dry land.

On the way back to our starting point we get another good look at the Storks and a really good sighting of a Common Kingfisher, the same species that is found at home. Our driver is waiting and taking a different route, the trip back to the hotel takes just over 30 minutes. At reception the good news is that the locked bathroom has been opened and D's wash bag liberated.

The Bottomhill Palace styles itself as a 'Japanese style boutique hotel'. We have never been to Japan so cannot verify whether the lack of hot water is authentic. D enquires about this when sorting out departure arrangements for tomorrow morning and is told that the geyser will be turned on. It is. Time to pack our bags again before heading downtown for supper. 

On the way home last night we looked in to a place called Pritiraj that looked busy and has good write ups. Tonight we walk past it three times before finally spotting it down a corridor containing a parked motorbike. We order kachchi, a kind of biryani, with dal, naan and two vorta dishes - potato and tomato. If you look up vorta on the internet you get a lot of guff about Star Trek so try bhorta instead. Why has nobody told us about this before. They are delicious accompaniments to our meal which cost a grand total of 380 Takas including Sprites and Sweet Yoghurt desserts. Best value yet.