I had intended to visit either Kerala and Tamil Nadu or Sri Lanka after Kopan. The flights to Sri Lanka had suddenly become very expensive, minimum £290. However, I did not feel I had the sufficient energy to backpack southern India, so Sri Lanka it was, despite the financial hit. I thought I had played a blinder by booking a flight from Delhi to Colombo, which was only £180. The plan was to get a bus from Kathmandu to Delhi for £20, thus saving myself a sizable wedge. I was gleefully humming away to myself until I tried to book a bus ticket and found out that my visa only allowed entry to India via air, not land. Having already booked the Delhi to Colombo flight, I now had to quickly get one to Delhi. The cheapest I could get was £143. Ouch. I am sure there is a lesson in there, perhaps in regard to doing a bit of fucking homework first before booking anything. Anyway, it was all resolved now. I then experienced a further financial haemorrhage of £42, successfully applying for a Sri Lankan E visa. This was relatively straightforward, although it was slightly problematic entering some of the required information. It wouldn’t be the same if things actually went to plan without any kind of irritant or obstacle. There is always a valuable lesson there.
It took three flights to get to Colombo; Kathmandu to Delhi, Delhi to Chennai and Chennai to Colombo. Another valuable lesson learnt, albeit most fortunately, was to remember that domestic flights often leave from different terminals to international ones. I was catching the airport express metro line from New Delhi when I realised that my flight wasn’t listed on the display screen. It took a while for the penny to drop, but then I realised that I needed to change lines near T1 and travel to the domestic terminal. A fortunate escape. Apart from that, the journey went without a hitch. I arrived in Colombo at 1am, got a SIM, changed the little cash I had in LKR (Sri Lankan Rupees) and then found a hostel nearby to stay the night. I was going to sleep in the airport but there wasn’t anywhere to get my head down. Having just spent 6 weeks in Kathmandu, with low temperatures, the heat in Sri Lanka, even at 1am was oppressive. I was sweating like a Tory at tax return time. The hostel, Airport Tourist Resort, was neither at the airport nor was it a tourist resort. It did for the night, but I wouldn’t recommend it; bathroom full of insects, as was the bed, no privacy and very limited facilities. I guess the price (£5.15) was the only saving grace. Having said that, maybe it still seems a little expensive for what you get.
The next morning I grabbed a tuk tuk back to the airport and tried to find the bus stop for Colombo Fort Railway Station. This seemed quite a laborious and fruitless endeavour. The heat was exacerbating my frustration, entitlement spilling out everywhere. I then noticed a fellow European, seemingly in the same fix, and suggested we pool our meagre intellectual resources. After walking up and down the same stretch of road several times, trying to find the bus stop displayed on Google Maps, we decided to get a tuk tuk to Colombo Fort. It was more expensive, $10, but the uncertainty was removed. My plan was to get a train to Weligama, in the south, and hit the beach. I bought a ticket (LKR 550 – £1.49) for the 3-hour train journey and sat on the platform, waiting. To my horror, when the train arrived, it was completely rammed. The only possible space was standing in an open doorway. As I was starting to feel the urge to go to the toilet I decided I would wait for the next train. Even though this was inconvenient, I was ok with it. Not so the guy stood a few feet away, clutching his surfboard bag and looking bereft. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Gnarly dude. The next train was equally as full but I had prepared myself for this outcome. After a few stations, the passenger numbers thinned out and, although still having to stand, the ride became much more manageable. Then . . . we stopped at what I thought was a station, only we never moved again. Eventually we were told the train had broken down and we needed to climb out on the tracks and wait for the next one to arrive. Obviously, this would be a highly unlikely scenario in the UK, but needs must. It felt like the Great Train Robbery, climbing down out of the carriage and scampering down the track. Eventually, another train approached and we embarked on the final leg of the journey. My hostel, Wake Up Weligama, seemed to be specifically aimed at young types who revelled in being loud, inebriated and fond of 125 BPM dance music. I stayed the two nights I had booked (LKR 2600 – £7 per night) and then quietly moved on. On the second night I was awoken at 4am by other residents cleaning up flooding caused by someone leaving a tap running, and we were on the first floor. My next accommodation, Spindrift Hostel, was much more relaxing, although it had an impressive and dedicated army of mosquitoes. Weligama has beautiful long beaches and shorelines but little else in terms of natural features. I guess that is the point. It was good to just drink coffee, walk along the beach, relax and take stock. The amniotic environment of Kopan had rendered me incredibly sensitive to the sudden re-engagement with conventional reality. Quiet walks and a small degree of isolation were just what the doctor ordered. Weligama is full of surfers, cafes, bars and restaurants, and yet is calm and unrushed. I spent a week there over Xmas, which was, for me, a total non-event. I was happy with that. I had a wander to a Buddha carved into rock, was ok but nothing spectacular. The highlight was discovering the walk to Jungle Beach only took 20 minutes, but you felt like you were really in paradise. A very small cove, large crashing waves, beautiful white sands, gently swaying palm trees, not many people.
“Come and look at my bananas”
Dyal
My next move was a brief mosey a few KM down the coast to Mirissa. A place much the same as Weligama but smaller and fewer surfers. My first hostel, Sun and Moon (LKR 2600 – £7 per night), provided a free breakfast, and it had beds and lockers. After some sincere soul searching, I can’t think of much else positive to say. The aircon didn’t work, the room was like a sauna, it was full of mosquitoes and the bathroom was like a toxic hazard. Most people only managed one night, I stuck it out for two. When I left Kopan, I was carrying a chest infection, also a fungal infection that I had somehow acquired in a Buddhist monastery. This could only happen to a certain few people. I had taken antibiotics for the chest infection but it seemed to have returned when I was in Sri Lanka. I had mistakenly thought the fungal infection was a mosquito bite, which I had aggravated by scratching. The bottom line is, the sauna experience seemed to have accelerated both issues and I was now both breathless and Fungal Sharkey. I also seemed to have attracted and incubated some kind of Asian perma-virus. Once I had settled into my new accommodation, Rainbow Mountain Villa (LKR 1850 – £5) I then developed a bulbous pus-filled blister between two of my toes. This became so bad that after a couple of days I had to go to an emergency clinic. It was relatively painless, both literally and financially, costing £55 to get sorted. I was given antibiotics and an antibiotic cream, and I had to change the dressing every morning. I couldn’t go on the beach, swim, pretty much anything other than gentle walking. I had been using cortisol cream on the fungal thing, thinking it was a bite. I then read that prolonged use can have side effects and lead to addiction. I of course then began catastrophizing about this and identified that I was being incredibly irritable and angry. I thought that the antibiotic cream would be much better for the complaint, and started using it daily. It seemed to subside initially, but then returned, bigger, faster, stronger. Enough on my alarming physical decline for now. Rainbow Mountain Villa was a small family run gig, situated in a secluded area away from the tourist heavy town. It was beautiful, calm, and atmospheric, you really felt like you were in the middle of the jungle. The only negative was the fact that you shared all this with a thriving insect community. This could be an issue in regard to mosquitoes, who were relentless, but the other habitants caused no problems whatsoever. The mosquito net provided protection and repellent was generally effective. In one amazing moment, I awoke in the night and could see fireflies circling my bed. A truly magical experience, I still question if it really happened, or was I delirious due to the inadvertent consumption of some tropical hallucinogen or overuse of cortisol? The family who ran it were very much on the right side of friendly, and sometimes bought fruit and cooked food out of the blue. Apart from a couple of massages, I did very little at this time due to the foot.
As relaxing as it was, I decided to move on to Galle for a few days. This is a large town 20 Km to the west of Weligama. A relatively painless two bus journey for about £1. The highlight of the journey was an apoplectic local remonstrating with some Russian tourists whose behaviour had outraged him. My accommodation was a 15 minute walk from the bus stop. It was another family affair, a homestay, which cost less than £5 a night and included a quite impressive breakfast. My first day I visited The Dutch Fort, an intact remnant from colonial times. Apparently it had been both a Portuguese and a British fort before its final denomination. I think the Dutch were responsible for the final manifestation, or at least took the credit for it. Not only was it a fine example of colonial defences, but it also had a fully preserved town inside it. This impressive settlement is a UNESCO world heritage site and is well worth the time to wander its streets and alleys. It has obviously been filled with overpriced cafes, restaurants and souvenir outlets, but the original charm and architecture is still very much evident. On my second day in Galle, I took a 3km walk to a small Buddhist temple just outside the town. I purposefully circumambulated the stupa and sat in quiet contemplation for a while. It was cracking the flags, so the walk back resulted in me being drenched in sweat and getting sunburnt. I had another wander around the old town the next day, free and gave me the chance to catch a few things I had missed the day before. There is an international cricket ground in Galle, situated right next to the Dutch fort, unfortunately, there were no games on whilst I was there. To be honest, apart from the Dutch fort area, there is not much to do or see in Galle. 5 days seemed more than enough, indeed wilfully excessive, to scope the place.
My next stop was Kandy, in the centre of Sri Lanka. A train ride to Colombo Fort, a brief stopover, then a train to Kandy. All surprisingly surprise free. The latter part of the journey, as the train starts climbing into the mountains approaching Kandy, afforded some majestic views. The beauty, for me, of Indian and Sri Lankan trains is that you can open the doors and just hang out, literally and figuratively. The coastal stretch to Colombo and the mountain stretch to Kandy were so much more enjoyable and immersive because of this. There is something magical about leaning out, breeze on your face, feeling like you are just floating along. I would of course advise caution and awareness. I initially stayed at Mount View Inn. There was a view from my window, but it wasn’t a mount. It was an empty swimming pool covered in filth, with rats running about in it. The people who ran it were lovely, they certainly tried hard to please. Unfortunately, I just felt very uncomfortable there; a huge dead cockroach appeared in my room, seemingly out of the ether, you could hear rats running about in the ceiling space, other guests were very noisy, I received several bites, A move was inevitable, and I chose Sunbloom Inn as it appeared to tick all the requisite boxes. I really did like this place; large well furnished room, clean, great views, great staff. I could have stayed there a long time. It was £10 a night but well worth it. The only negatives were location, a 20 minute walk into town, and the shared bathroom had some very purposeful and yet unobtrusive ants. I didn’t mind them, but others may. Whilst in Kandy I decided to visit my friend Dhamma Seehah, a monk from Kandy whom I had met in Kopan. The monastery is about 15km outside the town, in the hills. I found a tuk tuk, agreed a price, all seemed to be going well. We got about 3 km from the monastery and the driver suddenly said he couldn’t go any further as his machine was too hot. He then wanted more money, for covering less distance. I admired his entrepreneurial spirit but struggled to see things from his perspective. I paid him what we agreed and walked the remaining distance, never a dull moment. At least it gave me the chance to see more of the wildlife and flora. When I arrived at the monastery I was happy to see Dolkar (Rachel) who had also been at Kopan. Small world. We chatted, ate lunch, watched the monkeys terrorise other diners. I then had the dime tour from Dhamma and we sat and put the world to rights. It was wonderful to catch up with them both.
My next mission was to take up the offer of a tour from one of the many tuk tuk drivers. To be fair they weren’t as pushy as the ones in India, although still ubiquitous. The tour we agreed on was to visit several places including the giant Buddha, overlooking Kandy, and the Ambuluwawa Tower, some 25km away. Our first stop was an ayurvedic herb garden. I found it interesting and revelatory. However, as soon as I made it clear I didn’t want to buy anything they couldn’t get rid of me quick enough. It was a similar experience at the tea factory later in the trip. The Ambuluwawa tower, on the other hand, was an all round sensory overload. It loved me unconditionally, to the point that I lost the ability to move at times. Perched on top of a mountain, at 3560 feet, the tower has multiple levels, all reached by climbing 1000 steps. It represents Sri Lanka’s multi-faith background, with different levels for different religions; Buddhist, Hindu, Moslem & Christian. As you climb higher, the tower becomes narrower and the staircase becomes external. For someone like me, vertiginous when on the third rung of a step ladder, this is an ordeal of mammoth proportions. I was impressed that I got to 4 levels from the top, but any further was impossible. Along with the height, there was also the fact that the barriers seemed ludicrously low and unsafe, and there were people jostling and pushing. Despite all this, I actually enjoyed the terror and adrenaline saturated euphoria. Our final stop was the giant Buddha. This did exactly what it said on the tin; a 50 feet high Buddha meditating over Kandy. There is a small temple there but not much else. The tour cost me LKR 9000 (£25). This was the only day, out of seven in Kandy, when it didn’t rain. My other main cultural investment was to visit Sri Dalada Maligawa, AKA the temple of the tooth relic. It is located in the Royal Palace complex in Kandy, and allegedly houses a tooth of the Lord Buddha. There are other temples and attractions within the complex, all included in the price of LKR 2000 (£5.40). I followed all the signage, did as I was instructed and somehow found myself in the temple without actually having paid, still not sure how this happened. Anyway, the temples are all exquisitely beautiful, lots of people meditating, and a lot of places to visit. I found myself at the Buddhist Museum and had to pay a small amount, LKR 200, I think, (£0.54) because I didn’t have the main ticket. If I am honest, it seems a little chaotic and disorganised in terms of logistics, but it is a wonderful place to experience. I spent a lot of time wandering the streets, finding nice coffee and food, and had a few massages. Natural Coffee and Buono were the definite highlights. I tended to eat at local outlets which were cheap and cheerful, often getting a filling meal for less than £2. The weather, and the infection on my foot, limited me somewhat, leading to me feeling I missed a few possible experiences before I returned to Colombo for my flight to Kuala Lumpur.
So overall, I liked Sri Lanka. It was oppressively hot in the south and pretty much constantly raining in Kandy. I was ill most of the time and had an issue with my foot. Despite these limiting factors, I felt that I saw some wonderful things and greatly enjoyed meeting many Sri Lankans. Particularly Dyal, a complete stranger who invited me into his garden to proudly show off his banana tree. Like Indians, Sri Lankans seem to have no concept of personal space. However, apart from this, I found them very welcoming and friendly. Sri Lanka is cheap to visit, although massages were relatively expensive. You could easily backpack for £20 a day or less. One thing to note is that hostel and budget accommodation is of quite a low standard in general. Bearing in mind the colonial history and more recent events in the country, Sri Lankans seem to be positive and well grounded.