Sensory overload of light and heat, colours and smells and myriad other things
Disadvantages:
High probability of getting wiped out in a car crash, war in the north and east
Recommend to potential buyers:
yes
Full review
Like a teardrop falling from the Indian subcontinent, the island of Sri Lanka is, despite its history of internal conflict, as vibrant and as diverse a slice of paradise as you're likely to find in the sparkling Indian Ocean.
When Rufus, our driver for the day, overtook a car, which was overtaking a bus, which was overtaking an elephant, I caught sight of an approaching truck, swiftly closed my eyes and told myself that this was all part of the rich experience of old Ceylon. Feeling no impact, I flicked my eyes open to see Rufus grinning at me in the rear-view mirror, I managed to return a rather forced and sickly smile and decided not to ask about driving test requirements on the island. We were heading south from our base in the beach resort of Kalutara (on the west coast) to our first stop, a turtle sanctuary and rescue centre. They protect the many hundreds of eggs laid at one time on the beach and buried in the sand by Ma turtle. The eggs are vulnerable to predators and when hatched, the baby turtles have a perilous journey to make into the ocean, where I suppose their perils are just beginning. But by removing the eggs from the beach and hatching the young within the confines of the sanctuary the staff improve the survival odds no end. And dumb tourists like us get a chance to take a baby turtle each to the water's edge and set it free. My wife, Sandra, released one and he scuttled off into the surf. I let go of mine and he immediately flipped over shell-side down. I hope his luck improved. Oh, and at Sandra's insistence we had to give them names. We still talk of Sidney and Rufus and wonder how they faring. Have they made the difficult transition from tasty hors d'oeuvre to potential crunchy meat pie? We'll never know.
The town of Galle is to be found about as far south as you can go--notable for its main feature, an old Dutch fort that once kept guard against sea-borne warlike Brits. Sri Lanka is yet another part of the world that was the subject of many skirmishes involving marauding Europeans. Britain finally gained control and named the island Ceylon. Independence brought a change of name, although English traditions in the form of cricket, afternoon tea and, best of all, evening gin and tonics live on still.
The ever splendid Rufus guided us on through roadside fruit stalls, touting the tasty local fruit: mangosteen (tasty, but full of seeds. Rufus was on hand with advice on where best to spit) , pineapple and coconut - coconut milk straight from the shell is even more refreshing than a gin and tonic, but without quite the same kick - many Buddhist temples, simple roadside religious shrines (Catholicism and Hinduism are also favoured), a diamond mine with ever present shop (yes, well it was apparently hard to refuse a gorgeous diamond and sapphire ring) and a fascinating herbal medicine garden where I endured a rather disconcerting scalp massage. We were also sold a small bottle of oily pinkish stuff which was, I guess, some kind of natural precursor to Viagra. It was highly recommended by the shopkeeper in terms of, shall we say, improving one's staying power. Ah, and it lists the coca leaf as one of its ingredients. I wouldn't say that it did what it said it would do on the label, but there was certainly some kind of effect to be had, particularly when employed as a beer chaser. Incidentally, I have never seen it on sale anywhere else and sadly I've lost the address of the shop, although I haven't given up hope.
Slap bang in the middle of the island (which is the high mountainous bit where tea plantations rule) is the old city of Kandy, home to the Temple of the Tooth. The temple holds as its prized relic the tooth of Buddha, which is kept closely guarded in an ornate casket. Shoeless, we attended a lengthy and crowded ceremony. This was followed by an evening of local dance, music and entertainment at a local theatre. I know, I know, you've sat through all of this before, but it was immensely entertaining. Colourful and noisy and energetic, local drummers doing the Keith Moon with fire-walking to finish. What more could you ask for, apart from a few cold bottles of Three Coins beer at the Mahewali Reach hotel to round off the night? Once a Maharajah's palace built on the banks of the Mahewali River, this spectacular hotel was our home for one night only. But one night of calm relaxation in beautiful surroundings, with a power shower, which really understands the meaning of power, be sure to brace yourself before the tidal wave hits from the shower head. After your head's done a quick 180 degree turn, it is incredibly refreshing, like exercise but without the exertion and you're getting clean at the same time, just the thing to set you up for the breakfast buffet, which includes all sorts of curry. For breakfast? Yes, and it is superb. But relax, for the less adventurous there are all the other morning options of bacon or buns or fruit that you could wish for. And, naturally, the tea is exquisite.
Earlier that afternoon we dropped into a sari shop. Sandra was measured while I was fed with 7 Up and cakes. We chose the silk, ordered two garments (one for my sister in England who we described as "a bit bigger") and received instruction in how to put the things on (it is more complicated than you might imagine). Two made-to-measure saris were delivered to us at the theatre a few hours later, perfect fit not only for my wife, but also for my sister two weeks later. Hard to beat that for attentiveness and service.
Elephants are big in Sri Lanka, OK so they're big everywhere, but here in Sri Lanka do not be surprised to turn a corner in the capital, Colombo, and find a massive bull elephant outside a temple chain-tethered to a post that doesn't look quite man enough to take the strain. Bear in mind that we were told this beast was apparently ready, no, desperate, to mate and was taking something of an interest in my wife. We do have a photograph of him, but the zoom lens was not really powerful enough and he has come out as something of a smear in the distance. As indeed has the temple.
Later we did get close to an elephant. Or rather Sandra did. As she waded into a thigh-deep waterhole (maybe big-toe deep for the elephant) and scrubbed away at the elephant's hide with a broom, I was sadly confined to the dryness of the bank as I had foolishly worn my new shoes that day and had to be content with taking some photos. Although I missed the opportunity to capture the amazing sight, not to say sound, of the animal releasing her dung depth charges into the water, I did witness Sandra climbing aboard and undergoing the painful experience of bareback elephant riding. Believe me, when you get close, elephants are blotchy, sprout a surprising amount of coarse hair, and have a backbone which sticks out like a line of Madonna's conical bras. This can all be forgiven once you see the amused and knowing look to be found in their eyes.
When, as ever, the heat and humidity--truly this must be the most humid place on our overheated planet--the dust and the noise got to be too much, it was time to retreat to the hotel and to dip into the Indian Ocean. Some of the friendliest people on earth will attend you, maybe not always with the desired results.
Scene: Hotel garden, lunchtime. Sandra: What are those little animals in the trees? Me: I don't know they look a bit like squirrels. Waiter: Would you like some lunch sir? Me: Yes, please. What's on the menu today? Sandra: Could you tell me what those small tree-climbing animals are? Waiter: Lobster. Both: Lobster?!? We thought they were squirrels. Waiter: For lunch sir? Squirrels?!? Me: No, what are the animals in the palm trees? Waiter: Squirrels sir, of course. What did you think they were? And for lunch?
There are a lot of people who want to sell you something, or talk to you, or just make friends. A day in one of the towns will guarantee that you meet many locals, and it is rewarding. From the man with a huge pet bat who materialised from behind a bush in the botanic gardens in Colombo (only 50 rupees for a picture of you with the bat), to the beach touts (hey, they're all over the world and these are easier to deal with than most), to the small boy who wasn't quite tall enough to see over the hotel wall - the top of his head was occasionally visible as he jumped up and down and shouted in a high-pitched voice, "Hey, hello, hey, hello, hey", I think he sold us a sarong or two when he finally caught up with us.
We used to watch a local herdsman leading his cows to pasture along the beach in the morning, then back again against the backdrop of dazzling colour-drenched sunsets. Early one day we walked along the beach and I spied an old man sitting on the sand, gazing out to the distant horizon. "What a fantastic way to start the day", I said, "Just sitting there, taking in the sky, the vastness of the ocean. Envious, I'm really envious". The old man stood, adjusted his sarong and kicked sand into the hole which he had just been making use of. I'm still a little envious, but as a westerner being used to locked toilet doors it would take some getting used to. The major lesson here would be, don't let your kids dig in the sand here, hearing the phrase, "dad, look what I found" just does not bear thinking about.
Go to Sri Lanka, you will be rewarded. Unlike some places we have visited, we will be sure to return. Take a ride on a tuk-tuk, it's like a tiny motorbike which thinks it's a snail. Driver up front of a shell-like structure with two seats at the back, oh, and no doors so make sure you hold on as tight as you can as you hurtle around those corners. Charming people are pleased to welcome you whether you're in the lush green of the hill country, on the gleaming white sand or in the commotion of one of the busy cities. Tip - Too busy for you? Too hot? Find the cool of a temple, kick your shoes off (very important, as is dressing in a discreet fashion), sit back and contemplate. It is supposed to be a holiday after all.
I do have a word of warning. If someone tries to persuade you to take a day-trip which involves leaving your hotel at 5.30AM, an immediate visit to fish market on a beach - including, at no extra cost, the hauling from the boats and associated 'processing' of some extremely large and angry sea beasts, while attending to your wife who has a long-standing fish-phobia-cum-allergy and batting away the myriad swarms of flies - a long drive to board a rickety canoe, a 3 hour float up an alleged crocodile-infested river (I think the crocs must have been away that day), a one-mile ride up a rocky hillside in a wooden (of course, wooden wheels too) cart hauled by a buffalo (your bladder is like a helium-filled balloon at this point) , followed by a walk up the steep steps of Adam's Peak (the highest point of the island) in the noon-day heat, pausing only to light your wife's cigarettes while trying hard not to douse them in sweat, don't even consider it.
However, it is one of those places where there is a surprise, or a laugh or an awe-inspiring sight around many of its corners. Don't miss it.
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Sightseeing
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