20 years ago today, during a 4 month trip
through India, I stepped foot on an island called Smith that is situated in the
very north of the Andaman Islands. It took a 4 day sail from, at that
time, Madras and then another 2 days of traveling across the trunk road
in the middle of the islands on punts, rickshaws, a leaking dugout canoe,
armed buses because of the threat Jawara tribe poison arrows, etc etc etc. I remember that the one guard who protected us from such tribes proudly displayed his M1917 Enfield rifle from WWI. He himself was about 70 years of age and such a character. I’m not sure how good of a shot he was though. Our last leg of the trip was to hire a dingy in Diglipur to dropped us off on Smith island with instructions to pick us up in a week. On the island we found some other travelers camped on the beach and I met one
of my very best friends, Safi Dehili. The reason I initially came to #Ibiza was because of this meeting. All told in this diary……..