Snake charmers and snake oil salesmen

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A few kilometres up the road from Unawatuna is Galle, declared as a UNESCO world heritage site in 1988. It's a beautiful old city dating back to around the 13th century, but most famous for the Fort built by the Dutch when they took over from the Portuguese in the late 17th century. It's very picturesque, with streets made for aimless wanderings, which is exactly how I spent the day.

Its colonial history make for a fascinating architectural hodge-podge, and a surfeit of museums and historical sites to visit. I only visited one, the National Maritime Museum. Set in an old warehouse, the building itself is beautiful, and the museum wasn't too bad either. Then I drifted up and down the streets, admiring the buildings, looking at jewellery, art and crafts shops, or walking around the city on the ramparts.

The ramparts are home to another tourist trap, the snake charmers. No one will be surprised to hear that I declined the opportunity to have my photo taken with a python draped over me. I also declined the opportunity to see the man charm the cobras and make the dressed up monkey dance. I may not be the world's biggest snake-lover (or monkey-lover for that matter either) but I thought it was cruel and I didn't want to encourage him.

On my travels I've been warned by numerous kind people - Camilas, Lalith and Prasad amongst them - about the snake oil salesmen, or as they called them, "dangerous peoples", in Unawatuna and Galle, ready to take advantage of innocent female tourists and steal your valuables if you'll fall for their tricks. I came across my first potential "dangerous peoples" as I was walking home last night. It wasn't late, about 8ish, as I'd had an early dinner, when I noticed that a car was following me. It was a small hatchback, so not one of the tourist cars that abound, and the driver was stopping about 20 metres ahead of me, then watching me until I caught up. This continued for a little while, but I wasn't concerned on the beach road, which was busy with shopkeepers, tourists, and restaurants. I thought when I turned onto the main road that the car would get sick of this and go, but instead the man in the car continued to watch me. It was dark and he was creepy, so frustratingly, it was a tuk tuk home for the last 100 metres.

I met the next lot of "dangerous peoples" in Galle. I was wandering along atop of the wall admiring the views back to Unawatuna when I noticed a likely pair of young lads loitering around where I was. They were not walking together but were obviously working together. I stopped, dithered a bit, took some photos, and they stopped with me. Then one of them started talking to me and it was pretty obvious he wasn't one of the usual friendly and genuine people I've been meeting. "You are very sexy" is not how a gentleman should start the conversation. I got quite grumpy and turned around and walked back to where I'd come from. He look surprised and said, "You no like?". NO! They wandered off in search of other prey.

It seems I'm alert to the young ones, but fall for the old men. As I was wandering past the Muslim Cultural Centre there was a lovely old man sitting out the front who waved me in. I thought it might've been an interesting historical place to visit, so I wandered in. The sweet old man showed me the hall (!!) and started telling me his life story, ending with a "Donation for me, madam? For medicine?" So I took his photo and gave him a donation, wondering how I'd managed to fall for it.

After the pair of "dangerous peoples" on the ramparts, it occurred to me I could invent a husband. So in the tuk tuk on the way back to Unawatuna when my driver asked if I came alone, I instinctively answered yes, then kicked myself and mentioned a husband in New Zealand, before realising that this wouldn't help me, so then added a fictional friend in Unawatuna at the beach. Phew. Then we got chatting and he told me about his newborn twins (a boy and a girl) before asking me more about where I live. I'd forgotten about my made up husband in New Zealand and I responded I live in Australia, confusing the driver no end who asked why my husband was in New Zealand. So then I expanded my story and now my husband is visiting his sick parents in New Zealand. As they say, if you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything! The tuk tuk driver was harmless - I will save up my husband for the "dangerous peoples".

So then it was back to the garden oasis. No monkeys today, however the entertainment was provided by the chipmunks.

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Photos

National Maritime Museum
This Buddha was discovered on the East Coast following the Tsunami.

Galle
Note the sign, "Accommodation for Foreigners only." I've seen this a bit.