Sri Lanka - War Zone? Not an Issue

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The fact that Colmbo International had been bombed the previous week added plenty of spice to our flight out of Cochin - a flight we very nearly didnt make thanks to the 8 security checks that we had to endure before making it to the most bizarre departure lounge on earth. Charlotte and Megan got upgraded due to shameless flirting - mine fell upon deaf ears. Upon landing we were met by our driver (yes, we got a driver and, no, I dont care that I can't call myself a 'proper traveller') and taken to friends of charlottes in the centre of Colombo. Although travel guides seem to have in incessant aversion for major Asian cities, especially Colombo, none have failed to impress thus far with Colombo suprising on all levels. As a small aside I have often been told that Sri Lanka is an 'easy version' of India and this was apparent from the outset. We wandered over to a shopping mall before taking drinks within the colonial splendour of The Galle Face hotel. That night I found myself sat with a pint of Tetleys, an English newspaper and the cricket on a big screen - it was bliss!

The following day we were invited to stay at a place that rapidly became synonomous with having an amazing time - 'Ziggy's Place'. The place itslef is an amazing little guest house with a water skiing school attatched to it. That first day was mostly spent trying to get the children of charlottes friends to leave me alone, getting up on the wakeboard and relaxing to the maxing. The morrow was spent broadly the same bar a brief venture to the beach (accessible only by boat) and, having baywatched into the sea, spending the next hour trying to fight the current and actually get out. That evening we dragged ourselves away for the drive back to Colombo and the requisite preparation for htting the road.

Our plan was to head up into the hills for a week or so before hot-footing back to Colombo to meet Anne and Sarah for their weeks holiday. And so it was on a sweltering Monday morning we left Colombo heading for Dambullah. Located in Dambullah are The Cave-Temples, a key buddhist pilgrimage and general place of torture. Why, you ask?Well, upon arriving at perhaps the hottest time of the day our driver informed us that as the sight was holy we were to leave our shoes in the car. So, en route to the toilets, I recieved third degree burns to my poor feet before cooling them off by wading through the slurry surrounding the grotesque toilets that were on offer. I think Charlotte was scarred for life. After this little incident the same driver told us that we could in fact wear our shoes and that our pain had been utter folly - plebian. I will not continue with a description to the mostly underwhelming Cave Temples. I say mostly because the caves themselves were actally rather impressive but my mood following the earlier incident was such that I was not particularly receptive to the nuanced and subtle beauty that the Caves offer.

From Dambullah we moved on to Siguriya - the sight of a very, very big lump of magma up which we were due to climb the following day. We were very fortunate indeed with our lodgings and so sat out on our little deck and got merrily very drunk on the local tipple: Arak - a drink that from thence onward became a staple of the trip. The food was incredible. After an exceptionally restless night for all we piled into the car at 7am alighting at the Siguriya Ticket Office at 7.20. There we realised did not in fact have enough money to get into the joint and, so, returned the 30km to Dambullah to the nearest ATM. We were eventually let in and, having negotiated the hawkers, beggars and general pests, began to approach the rock itself. It really is rather large and fully deserving of its UNESCO World Heritage Sight Status. Highlights included the huge lion's paws carved from the rock itself, the views from the top and the fact that we were able to get up and down in half the time it ought to take - guns. After taking an incredibly wrong turn, trekking through the jungle for 30 minutes, ending up on a very 'deliverance-esque' road, sitting there for a while and jumping in a very random rickshaw we eventually found the car park and hotstepped on to Kandy.

Kandy is Sri Lanka's second city and, as a result, is crowded, congested and dirty. Despite this there is a certain charm to be found with the lake adding a more relaxed feel to the whole place. The rest of that day was spent searching for lodgings, eating and generally being horizontal. Having taken in the hugely unimpressive Temple of the Tooth the following morning we sat through a hugely funny (if a little dangerous due to the involvement of the army) parking frenzy before spending the afternoon at Amaya Hills retreat - it was very difficult indeed. Having eaten another glorious Sri Lankan meal we headed to 'The Pub', overlooking Kandy Lake, to watch England get beaten by Sri Lanka - I evened with myself that it had been a pretty cool night despite this due to the quality of my chicken cashew from the takeaway, the quality of the beer consumed and the suprising cricketing knowledge of my fellow companions.

Before returning to Colombo we made a slight detour to Pinnewhala (spelling...) Elephant Orphanage and here is where I have to make a confession. My love for elephants is little known but great nevertheless and, as a consequence of this, I was in heaven. Not only where the animals well treated (despite the forewarnings of the LP) but ripe for photographic pretenciousness (and yet more). At one point I had wandered to the very extreme of the river bank for a particularly pretencious, but risky, photographic venture and was rewarded with one of the babies coming for a play - it really was quite wonderful and I was pained to leave. That evening back in Colmombo we were taken to a fantastic seafood resaurant with the night being capped off with the words 'Our treat' beind spoken by our hosts.

With the arrival of Annie and Sarah came time for another trip so Ziggy's Place. So, having been bombarded with visa help requests by the security guards for the duration of my time waiting at the airport, we duly met Anne and Sarah, boarded the party bus and headed for Bentota (yes, Uncle Alex, I travelled with four girls and, yes, I did look like a huge 'Gayboy!'). We arrived just in time for a quick round behind the boat before the heavens opened (a sign of things to come) so what else could we do but sit under Ziggy's lagoon-side hut and sink a bottle of Bombay? From there we went to the emptiest of clubs and epitmoised the ideal of 'making our own fun'. Megan got really drunk and Annie fell over - standard.

Having soaked up what would be some of the very few rays of sun on offer that week we headed over to Hikkaduwa the following day. Unfortunately the girls had allotted me to book the accomadation so we arrived at a very average hostel with all five of us in one room - cue some very unhappy girls and an uncontrollably laughing me. It mattered very little as we got on it before dinner, ate seafood then headed for our tip of the evening - Mambo's. It was incredible. Full of actual people and actual music we got straight on it. Mambo's is a essentially a bar on the beach so the beach was the dancefloor, even under the monsoon. So, embracing my gap year self with rapidly reducing levels of sinicism as the alcohol levels increased, we partied very hard indeed and had an incredibly good evening. The fact that there were five in the room mattered not as only two people ended up sleeping there...!

The following day we found ourselves a little appartment on the beach and I spent the day reclined next to the sea with my ipod - it was class. After a cracking meal and few beers to remove the still lingering hangover we went back to the appartment for an ill-earned but nevertheless wonderful sleep. The following morning dawned wet and grey so, Anne being Anne, she suggested a trip to the nearby UNESCO site of Galle Fort. This we did and I remain to this day thoroughly underwhelmed - maybe it was the rain and maybe it was the scattering of litter but it really wasn't very good. The highlight was perhaps the local motorbike driving test centre which consisted of a figure of eight track the size of your standard uni room around which candidates had to drive a few times without touching the floor - it was incredible. The rest of the day was spen searching for digs with the final decsision falling to me. Having veto'd a place that was $70 a night I found a place that had only recently been re-opened after the tsunami and I think it may have been a little rushed. We did, however, have a fantastic barbeque then spending the rest of the evening searching for a party that was never really there - i drank myself into a stupour.

Mirissa beckoned as the next day came but that was quickly by-passed and we ended up back in our little flat in Hikkaduwa. The next two days were spent generally trying to make the best of the bad weather and me genuinely feeling quite bad for Sarah and Anne. I personnally couldn't have cared less about the weather having been hot for the last 6 weeks but for them it was a bit of a shame. They took it with real steel though choosing to use vodka as a well needed remedy!After two more genuinely fun-filled days in Hikky (for those in the know) we headed back to Colombo for a good meal before goodbyes all round.

With the trio again united as one thoughts turned to South-East Asia and the fact that we knew very very little about the place and what in God's name we were going to do when we landed in Singapore. On the bright side I had just survived my very first war-zone: solid.

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Photos

Ziggy's Place
A chance to recuperate after India and to hone my skills!

Said Skills...
Sorry - couldn't help it!