Withering Heights - Vanillas in the Mist [Part II of III]

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the drive to the tea estate manager's office I found manageable. my pineapple floated happily on its sea of stomach acids.

so, with an internal sigh of relief, when we reached the office, i got out of the van, thinking we'd walk around all his acres and acres nestled into the hillside. rock squirrels would frolick at our feet. birds would chirp. the sun would magically break through the clouds.

wrong.

we greeted the manager, then hopped back into the van to continue our ascent.

up.

straight up.

into more mist. more rain.

for another 45 minutes. you know those hikes when you think you see the top of the mountain...but are still another 2 hours? or who knows how long...(Ruediger!)

winding through villages, tea plucker houses (looking more refurbished then my berlin flat), pristine landscape (I later learned there's a garbage and compost monetary incentive program)...

...i tried not to think about the little van we road in tipping over the edge and tumbling to my death, my corpse and its nutrients interplanted with tea and vanilla.

so much for the romance of the scenic tea hills.

alongside the road, Sri Lankans plodding about, working here and there.
what I have found typical thus far: Lankans not particularly full of smile and waves. also not full of marriage proposals and sunglasses for sale. ah, Africa where are thou?

and the mist. rolling mist.
and the green, green leaves of tea, yellow tips shimmering in the sunlight.
and,
the wasp nests.
bigger than my thorax.

more on the innerworkings of tea to come...

ps my newest word of singala: 'tikka-tikka' - which means a little
pps curiously (I find), the word for 'a little' in wolof is 'tutti tutti'. coincidence?

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Photos

safety first
heh?

bunga-oh
what thinkst thee when you doth heareth the word 'bungalow'? yeah...me, too. but the brits have a different idea. a tea estate assistant manager's digs. where i lived like a ceylon princess by my standards...butler bell and all

the sights
tea laborers. not all fair.

tea on wheels
tracks that once brought the tea from the hills to the capital for port. these windy, picturesque train-set-like tracks are still in use...but they carry people (resembling sardines) rather than tea packs.

i'd like to teach the world to sing
serious hippieage. love it.

another food shot
look, as i treaded, carefully. a wonder i got an unfuzzy shot of the ueber-swayful train 'restaurant' car. far cry from the ICE. no apfelschorle to be had here. many mystery items, fried.

revisionist history
i'd like to retract my prior comment about men in skirts. being back in berlin, all these fussball hunks wrapped in german-flag sarongs were s-e-x-y.