Lured by the Beach Side of a Beleaguered Land in Bangladesh
By JEFF KOYEN

IT was a crisp and gorgeous day, and there were fewer than 100 people on Inani Beach, a wide swath of powdery white sand stretching from horizon to horizon along Bangladesh's southeastern tip. It is part of a sandy stretch that measures 75 miles tip to tip, and is often called the world's longest beach, but it felt more like the loneliest.

I was lounging on a rented deck chair for several hours last April on sand as soft and flat as the Bay of Bengal itself, spread out like a freshly paved road. Rows of spindly firs swayed in the salty breeze. And the only interruptions were the young Bangladeshis who would fetch me a lukewarm cola for a small baksheesh, or tip.

Far less crowded is Inani, where fishermen work along what is often called the world’s longest beach.

There are no Jet Skis, no motorboats and no cars - just the splashing of the bath-warm water. Pedal-powered rickshaws idled on the dirt road. Wooden fishing boats bobbed gently on the dark green water, like pirate ships of yore. It was so quiet, in fact, that wearing headphones would seem somehow rude, even if you were listening to George's Harrison's "Bangladesh."

For a certain generation, that's how this country is best remembered: for the 1971 Concert for Bangladesh that Harrison and his friends, including the Bengali musician Ravi Shankar, held to raise money for famine relief in Bangladesh.

Bangladesh still rarely makes the news unless there's a devastating flood,a disease outbreak or political turmoil, as was the case last month when strikes related to next month's elections paralyzed the country and left at least two dead. (At travel.state.gov/travel, the State Department has cautioned Americans that it "expects the situation throughout Bangladesh to remain uncertain through January.")

The swimming pool at the Seagull Hotel, a self-described “four star” hotel and among the newest in Cox’s Bazar.

But this impoverished, overpopulated and beleaguered country is quietly drawing tourists. While many if not most of Bangladesh's visitors come from India, more Westerners are discovering this undeveloped stretch along the eastern edge of the Bay of Bengal as a less traveled and cheaper alternative to Bali and Thailand.

Wedged into northeastern India and along a short border with Myanmar (formerly Burma), this fertile sea-level land straddles the Tropic of Cancer and is intercut by the Ganges, Jamuna and Meghna Rivers on their way to the Bay of Bengal. It has marshy jungles crisscrossed by innumerable streams, wide tracts of unspoiled beaches and the Sundarbans in the southwest, the largest mangrove forest in the world and home of the royal Bengal tiger.

And much of it, refreshingly, is free of tourists. Indeed, the country's tourist board has adopted the slogan "Visit Bangladesh Before Tourists Come."
With 147 million people occupying roughly the same area as Iowa, Bangladesh is among the most densely populated nations on earth. It's also a Muslim nation.. As such, every experience is informed by Islam, from the morning prayers broadcast from tall citadels to the near absence of liquor stores and anything resembling Western night life.

I started my monthlong visit in Dhaka, the swirling and chaotic capital on the Buriganga River. One doesn't enjoy a casual stroll through Dhaka. A trip to the city's center means bushwhacking through throngs of garishly decorated rickshaws, buses held together by Bondo putty and taxis that belch and wheeze around the clock.

Dhaka is also not the most pleasant-smelling city; a hint of sewage and humanity always hangs in the hot and sticky air.

A man sits in his shop of traditional musical instruments in Dhamrai, in the outskirts of Dhaka.

I didn't stay long. Like most travelers, I made my way to Cox's Bazar, a bustling town on that same long stretch of beach as Inani. The trip from Dhaka was a harrowing 10 hours in a ramshackle former school bus. This was not a peaceful journey: Bangladeshi drivers are not known for staying in their lanes.

But just miles away from frenzied, industrialized Dhaka, the landscape changed dramatically and revealed a verdant, flat land covered by hand-tended rice fields and palm trees hanging lazily in the heat. Tiny ponds, green from algae, dotted the countryside like puddles after a rainstorm. Children bathed and played and waved excitedly at passing buses.

Cox's Bazar may be a beach town, but in some ways it feels like a big city. With narrow dirty roads that are jam-packed from sunrise to well-past sunset, it is a smaller version of Dhaka - unnerving, unkempt and madcap. But it is also the epicenter of Bangladesh's tourism, and the favored staging ground for visitors heading out to the pristine white sand beaches and balmy, shark-free waters.

A trip to the city’s center means bushwhacking through throngs of garishly decorated rickshaws, one of the easiest vehicles to go sight-seeing in Dhaka.

Though the beach stretches for miles to the north and south, most visitors are content to sit on the sands at Cox's Bazar itself. They're free, open to the public and so expansive that it's nearly impossible to feel crowded.

For Westerners trying to blend in, hitting the beach Bangladeshi-style means leaving the bikini at home. Beachgoers dress is if they were going to work. Men are clad in slacks and dress shirts - some even wear ties. Their wives, without exception, wear traditional saris. Even the children are dressed modestly in long pants and button-downs. And no one swims as much as they wade in the warm water, their pant legs and saris hiked up to their knees.

A visitor walks out of the Seagull Hotel in Cox's Bazar, a bustling town on that same long stretch of beach as Inani.

You won't come across many Westerners, but that may change. Beachfront plots are being snapped up by hoteliers hoping to develop the tropical sandbar into a tourist strip. Several high-end hotels catering to well-heeled foreigners have already opened.

Among the newest is the self-described "four star" Seagull Hotel, a short walk from the aptly named Hotel Road, a couple of miles south of the town's center. Soaring above the evergreens that line the beach, its mirrored glass and white-concrete facade stands in stark contrast to the town's modest and dusty red-brick shacks. It looks more like a suburban American office building than a beachfront resort.

The hotel has 182 Holiday Inn-style rooms, a restaurant that serves pizza, a beauty salon, a private walkway to the beach and a big swimming pool, where, on a Monday afternoon, a handful of European men were discussing business. But otherwise, the hotel felt empty.

Beach goers enjoy the incoming crystal-blue tide.

Still, at $60 a night for a double room with ocean views, there's no denying its appeal. Moreover, the service is prompt, professional and friendly.
In fact, everywhere you go in Cox's Bazar (or Bangladesh, for that matter) the people are friendly to a fault. Like gnats on a hot afternoon, clouds of children and grown men swarm around foreigners as they walk down the street, eat at a restaurant or sit down for a haircut. At first, this may come across as aggressive, but you soon realize it is their way of showing hospitality.

I learned this firsthand on a day trip to Moheshkali, an island a few miles offshore from Cox's Bazar where Burmese refugees live in peaceful accord with Bangladeshis and a Hindu minority, giving this tiny fishing island an unusual air of multiculturalism.

Since this was at the tail end of the dry season, the weather was prone to sudden downpours. So while the sky was clear and the waters smooth when I boarded the ferry that morning, menacing thunderclouds and violent lighting awaited my return a few hours later.

The beaches in Cox's Bazar are free, open to the public and so expansive that it’s nearly impossible to feel crowded.

As the ferry - actually, a 10-person powerboat - rocked and rolled across the bay, tossed like an injured duckling in the chop, a young man leaned in and yelled in English: "Hey, American! Are you scared?"

Truth be told, I wasn't. Since arriving in Bangladesh, I'd survived a 10-hour game of chicken in a hand-me-down bus, ridden shotgun in rickety rickshaws that tipped over regularly, and pushed through narrow alleys packed three-deep with nervous cows. What's a little seasickness?
But this man wasn't antagonizing me; he was striking up a conversation. Back on terra firma, the young man, Muhammad, a high school teacher, invited me to a nearby cafe, where we dried off and enjoyed sweet tea and even sweeter pastries.

To repay his kindness, I visited his class the next morning, where I gave an impromptu English lesson. Once again, I was invited to tea, this time by a doe-eyed student eager to learn more about America. I graciously declined; this back-and-forth generosity could have gone on for days - and I wanted to get back to the beach.

VISITOR INFORMATION
GETTING THERE

Several airlines fly to Dhaka from New York City with one stop, among them Emirates, British Airways and Cathay Pacific. A recent Web search for late January found round-trip fares starting around $1,335, on Emirates.

From Los Angeles, Malaysia Airlines was as low as $1,201 for a round trip, but with stops in Taiwan and Kuala Lumpur. Thai, Cathay Pacific and Singapore Airlines made one-stop flights for several hundred dollars more.

Traveling within Bangladesh is inexpensive. A driver can be hired for 1,500 taka (about $21 at 73 taka to the dollar) a day. The 10-hour bus trip from Dhaka to Cox's Bazar was 700 taka each way.

Sunset and low tide brings a fisherman out with his net.

United States citizens must present a valid visa upon arrival, which costs $100 and is valid for 90 days from date of entry. But visa requirements can change, so consult the Bangladesh Embassy in Washington (202-244-0183, www.bangladoot.org).

Those who enter Bangladesh by air but plan to leave by land will need a Change of Route permit, issued free by the Immigration and Passport Office (Agargaon Road, Sher-e-Bangla Nagar, Dhaka; 840-2-913-4011). It typically takes two business days.

The Bangladeshi weekend is Friday and Saturday, and banks and many stores are closed. A.T.M.s outside Dhaka are not connected to the international network, and traveler's checks are very difficult to cash. Bring new, crisp American dollars - due to counterfeiting, many stores accept only "beautiful" bills.

January and February are the best times to visit, when temperatures average 78 degrees and the humidity is low.

WHERE TO STAY
The Seagull Hotel in Cox's Bazaar (Motel Road; 880-341-62480 or 880-2-832-2973 for Dhaka office; www.seagullhotelbd.com) is among the new upscale resorts catering to Westerners. Deluxe double rooms start at 3,600 taka, including tax, but packages can be even cheaper.

Though somewhat fallen from its glory days, Hotel Shaibal (Motel Road; 880-341-63274; e-mail, bpcho@bangla.net) has a private beach and one of the town's few legal bars. Air-conditioned rooms start at 2,000 taka in the high season.

The sun casts a fiery gaze on a boat at sea.

When passing through Dhaka, seek out the greener streets and clean sheets at the Jame Prestige Abode (House 97, Road 4, Block B; 880-2-882-9474; e-mail, jame@bijoy.net). This guesthouse has attentive service, air-conditioning, satellite TV and a small refrigerator for $26.

WHERE TO EAT
Bangladesh cuisine is not unlike Indian food - curries, spicy stews, nan-like breads - though with less variation. Bangladeshis eat with their hands, and utensils are not available at most restaurants.

For authentic, inexpensive meals in Cox's Bazar, try the misnamed Pizza Palace often in English and Bengali) at the corner of Motel and Sea Beach Roads: there's no pizza on the menu, but the curries are delicious.

For sunset dining, take a 140-taka rickshaw ride out of town to Angel Drop Restaurant (Marine Drive Road, Kalatali New Sea Beach; 880-171-441-416). The snacks are fine, but the scenery is spectacular.

Speedboat ferries to Moheshkali leave all day for about 100 taka; they depart when the boat is full. Ask a rickshaw driver to take you to "the dock," or just say "Moheshkali."