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Published: February 23rd 2013
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Our first day in Sri Lanka was in Colombo, and it was here that – again, on our first day - we had lost all hope for Sri Lanka. The city does not provide a pleasant tickle to the senses, but a sensory overload of a pungent mixture of sandalwood, diesel and sewer runoff. Our hostel was, perhaps not a disaster, but certainly a shame, with anthills in the corners, peeling paint and a location that not a single tuk-tuk (more on that in a sec) driver could find without inquiring of its whereabouts to no less than 7 people on the street at a time. And, even though we were staying there, we were unfortunately no help in triangulating its whereabouts because finding a decent map in this country is like searching for the Fountain of Youth, and we have made an earnest effort in that respect. In any case, I’m not entirely certain all the streets have names.
We crashed our first day after a 2-hour taxi ride from the airport: yes, we took the scenic route, but I have confirmed at the regular price; we just happened to give one of the employees of the
taxi company a ride home, which cleared up our confusion earlier when two Sri Lankans – the driver and an accomplice – got into the taxi. I actually don’t want to complain about the scenic route too much: again, as far as I can tell from inquiring with others and a couple Google searches, we weren’t hoodwinked and much of the ride was along the coast, and we’d never laid eyes on the Indian Ocean before. We were also tired from having not slept at all two nights before, while making a brief 12-hour layover in London. I jumped at the chance of having this layover: we could visit Westminster Abbey - where Klaudia had never been, and where I was nearly 20 years ago (now incredulous that I’m saying things like “20 years ago”) – so that this big Newton fan could visit his gravesite, and afterwards have a proper pint of Guinness.
We awoke early the next day and proceeded to go on a lost adventure, truly unable to get our bearings. We took an exciting roller coaster that is the 138 bus to Colombo 1, the Fort area of town and, maybe it was
jet lag, maybe it was the stench going to our heads – and just maybe, the theory I like to ascribe to, it’s a conspiracy against foreigners because there are no good maps - but we couldn’t find anything, except by accident. After Klaudia criticized my manhood a couple times, I was about ready to surrender and tip my hat to Colombo for beating me so quickly, but suggested a walk on the beach I noticed across the Old Parliament Building. We dipped our feet in the ocean and were accosted by a tuk-tuk, or 3-wheeler driver, who offered to take us around town. A tuk-tuk is a small 3-wheeled motorized vehicle that is similar to a rickshaw and that seats no more than 3 individuals in the back. We have now learned that hiring a tuk-tuk drive truly is an inexpensive and efficient means of touring the sights in Sri Lanka, costing from 3-5 dollars an hour. He whizzed us around town to places that we could have found had we simply turned around, but the most impressive was Gangaramaya Temple, a well-run Buddhist temple which supposedly holds a strand of hair, which we saw in a glass casing,
from the Buddha himself. I wish you could have seen their faces when Klaudia and I chuckled when they told us this, and the sheer disbelief our impudence caused... but seriously, a strand of Buddha’s hair? Let’s not belabor the topic though, since there’s no talking to religious zealots.
Now, the most notable site we visited was the Sambodhi Chaitiya, a large Buddhist stupa that sits about 20 meters off the ground on stilts. We took the stairs up to the top and snapped some pics, then decided to take the elevator down since we were on an hourly basis with our driver, despite the little voice in my head urging me not to step into that trap of an elevator. Yep, you guessed it, the elevator doors would not open on the ground level; actually, they would not open on any level except, thankfully at this point, on the top level. So, we took the stairs down and asked our tuk-tuk driver what that was all about. His response was reminiscent of something my friend, Chris, in Poland would say when I would bring up some sort of Polish absurdity - Chris would say, “What do
you think this is, America?” Our tuk-tuk driver’s response was, “What do you think this is, Poland? This is Asia, and you cannot try to explain things like this.” (Chris, if you’re reading this, there are tiers).
So be it, and it’s an attitude that helped me deal with the final incident of the day. Saying our farewells to our driver after he began the annoying 3rd World “Now I’ll take you to all of my buddies’ stores so you can buy something” part of the tour, we walked over to the Colombo train station to take the bus home. Our hostel owner had warned me to ask the ticket attendant on the bus (there is a ticket attendant and driver on every bus) to ensure we were on the correct 138 bus on our way back, as there are one of two routes the bus takes. I diligently did so, and the attendant shook his head in affirmation, and agreed to let us know when we should get off the bus. Well, I obviously wouldn’t be telling this story had he done so. Getting nervous at a certain point, I inquired from him again, and he
shook his hand indicating that it was a bit farther. About two minutes later, he told us to get off the bus, and I could see it in his face – this turned out to be nowhere near our actual stop. All I could think as we departed the bus, knowing full well that this was not our correct stop, was, “What do you think this is, Poland? ‘Cause it definitely ain’t even TJ.”
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Chris
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#wtf picture
That one is easy - Call Center Memorial. Great job so far! Don't keep us waiting for the next entry for too long !