Sunday, February 16, 2003
Colombo and Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka
I arrived in Sri Lanka a little past midnight after spending the day in Bangkok. With my single carryon bag, I moved quickly through immigration and customs. In the amazingly quiet arrival hall I cashed $50 and then got a taxi to Colombo. I used the stand just outside customs on the right and paid 1200 Rupees. On the way into town the driver pitched me on various services and tours, but I was way too tired to talk business. I just laid my head on my bag and fell asleep.

The next thing I knew 45 minutes had passed and we were at my hotel, Galle Face. It's what’s known as a "colonial hotel" meaning it’s old and has been recently remodeled. It was a lovely place located in downtown Colombo right next to the sea. As I stepped from the cool, air-conditioned taxi the warm, moist air fogged my glasses.

The reception area had a high ceiling and was open to the night air. I sat down at the reception desk - no standup counter here - and filled out the required forms. I asked the smartly dressed clerk if I could get a sea-view room. As I had a prepaid voucher (from Stayxs, the online reservation service) he told me there would be an additional $30 charge. I was only staying one night and figured with any luck I would be asleep in a few minutes, so I declined.

Despite my lack of interest, the clerk pressed on. How much, he asked, would I consider paying? He stared intently at me. All of a sudden I felt like I was in the bazaar bargaining over a rug. "I'm not interested," I told him again, "all I want is a quiet room for the night." Instead of giving me a key, he prolonged the conversation and occasionally asked again what I would consider paying - he wasn't going to give up easily.

Finally, I stood up and asked for my key. A bellboy (well, actually a bellman - he was nearly my age) grabbed my bag and led the way. As we neared the room I could hear I had a problem. "Where's that music coming from?" I asked. It turned out that there was a wedding party on the floor below, so without even looking at the room I returned to the reception desk. On the way back the bellboy agreed it probably wasn't the best room in the hotel.

At the reception desk I complained about the noisy room and was given another key. From the new room I could still hear the wedding, but I figured my earplugs could deal with the lower volume. Somehow the whole experience - the attempt to up sell me, and the noisy room - soured me a little on the Galle Face. In my room I hit the minibar for a beer (half of which I spilled on the bathroom floor - I was that tired), brushed my teeth and sank quickly into bed.

I woke early, still feeling tired from the previous day's travels. Downstairs I found that breakfast was being setup outside under a colonnade with a view of the sea. While waiting, I stared at the distant line where the light blue sky met the dark blue water. It was a lovely, quiet morning and I had that great feeling of anticipation that comes with arriving at a new destination.

After eating, I took a tuk-tuk (three-wheel motorbike) to the Fort train station in Pettah.

It's a crowded business district behind the more fashionable area where I was staying. I planned to spend the morning walking around, taking pictures and getting a feel for Colombo. In the afternoon I was heading north.

There were various vendors setup in front of the old station selling fruit, newspapers and such, and lots of people milling around. As I stood deciding which way to walk, several tuk-tuk drivers came over to offer their services. I declined them all until one caught my attention. He spoke excellent English and tempted me with offers of hidden treasures. He recited a list of temples, gardens and buildings we might visit - ones he assured me I would never find alone.

He seemed to know what might interest a tourist looking for a quick tour, so I decided to give him a try. After a little negotiation, we settled on a one and a half-hour tour. I figured if I was happy I could extend the trip and, if not, I wouldn't be out that much money - sorry but I have forgotten what he actually charged me.

Our first stop was a nearby Hindu temple. It was a down a small, dirt track and a place I certainly would never have thought to walk. This was Poya day - the day of the full moon - and as such, a holiday. Looking into the temple I could see some kind of ceremony was going on.

First, we took off our shoes, as you do at most holy sites in Sri Lanka. Inside there were carved stone columns, brightly painted signs and several musicians. One was singing, or more properly chanting, while another played a large reed instrument. There was also a fellow tapping out a rhythm on a drum. They played a high pitch, Asian sounding melody, which only made the lovely old temple seem even more exotic.

The temple was full of people and they were as taken by me as I was by them. I quickly got out my camera and started taking pictures. No one seemed to mind, in fact, many people stopped to pose for me. They seemed to love seeing their image on my digital camera's tiny display.

Next, we stopped at a Buddhist temple that had an elephant chained up in the courtyard - another fascinating sight. Nearby there was a tree of the same species that Buddha had reached enlightenment under. It was decorated with flowers and pieces of bright colored cloths that had prayers written on them. There were also a lot of people milling around the courtyard. I took more photos before we moved on.

In the street in front of the temple there was a row of bleachers. The driver told me that there would be a parade that night which would include many elephants. I was disappointed to think I would be leaving Colombo at noon and would miss it.

Next, we drove to Cinnamon Garden, an expensive neighborhood of wide streets and palatial residences. Here we happened on a procession of 30 or more elephants. Most of them wore bells and they walked slowly, but noisily down the side of the busy road tying up traffic. "Stop, stop," I shouted at the driver. He pulled past the procession and then stopped on the sidewalk. I walked back and took some pictures.

After that, we continued our tour of Cinnamon Garden by looking at some uninteresting (at least to me) government buildings. After stopping at one more temple, I figured I had had enough of touring and asked to be taken back to the train station. I paid off the driver and continued my exploring on foot.

By now the market area was in full swing. The streets were packed with people and lined with stands selling everything from fruit and vegetables to plastic and metal kitchen wear. Being the only westerner around I attracted a lot of attention. Most people simply wanted to know where I was from. They all seemed genuinely amazed I was from the US - it seems that not many Americans make it to Sri Lanka. In fact, I never met a fellow countryman the whole time I was there. Also, as English is widely spoken, it's easy to meet Sri Lankians and they certainly were all very friendly.

Finally, as noon approached I headed back to the hotel where my driver was waiting. He was a handsome fellow in his early 40's who introduced himself as "Lucky." I assumed this was just a name he took to make his interaction with westerners easier. Later, I discovered that everywhere we went that's what the locals called him too.

Our first stop was his office - Ceylon Tours - where I forked over $160 for his services for three day. I was also responsible for his accommodations and meals. I wasn't exactly sure what that meant yet.

Next, we headed north toward Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka's capital before the 12th century and reported to be it's most sacred city. As soon as Lucky and I got past our initial introductions I explained to him what I wanted to do and see. I wanted him to understand that just because he had picked me up in a fancy (and expensive) hotel, that didn't mean I wanted that kind of accommodation on the road. In fact, I often prefer the cheaper places that have more character, and where I find I meet more interesting people. We also worked out a basic itinerary based on my desires and his experience. He had mentioned that he had been driving tourists for 20 years so I had reason to take his advice.

Our first stop was at a small family-run brick workshop. I'm always a little wary of these little roadside demos. Often they are little more than a cursory demonstration after which a large tip is expected. This was pretty much the deal here, but the family was very pleasant and did show me how they used a wooden form to shape clay into bricks. From there we looked at the kiln they used to fire them. While this was going on I took loads of pictures of the family. As we were getting ready to leave, Lucky whispered I should give them something. I asked him how much but he wouldn't say, so I gave them 30 Rupees (about $0.30.)

When we got in the car he explained his reluctance to mention a price. "If I tell you how much they will ask me later why I didn't say more." He then told me that anything less that 50 Rupees was too little - "You can't even buy a sandwich for that," - and that 100 was better, adding that in the end it was up to me.

We spent the next few hours driving past small settlements, trucks stops and food stands interspersed with areas of lush, green vegetation. Lucky drove fast, but not reckless through the thick, slow traffic. The road was full of everything from brightly painted trucks to bullox carts. In Sri Lanka it's impossible to go very fast because of the thick traffic and poorly surfaced roads.

We stopped at a small restaurant along the road. It had a thatch-covered roof and was next to a large pond. The dining area was open and surrounded by wild vegetation. Small birds and squirrels hovered near the tables hoping for handouts. It was around 2:00 and only a few of the tables were occupied, mostly by other tourists with drivers.

Lucky asked if I wanted a Sri Lanka meal and, when I said yes, he gave the order to a waiter. He then said, "I'll see you in about 30 minutes," and disappeared. This caught me off guard as I had been expecting him to eat with me. Later he explained that it was cheaper for him to eat alone. He did this same thing every time we ate and I quickly got the message: he wanted me to take this savings into consideration when it came time to give him a tip.

I sat for a few minutes enjoying the sound of the birds and the view of the pond. Shortly, the meal came and it was huge. There were about 10 -12 dishes, containing fish, chicken and various cooked vegetables. There was also a large plate of rice. The food reminded me of Burma where it is also served at room temperature. While some of the dishes were tasty, overall it wasn't that exciting and I secretly longed for the wonderful food that I had just had in Bangkok. Anyway, the meal with a bottle of Sprite cost 517 Rupees ($5.)

As we drove on to Anuradhapura Lucky slipped in two more reminders. First, he said that he only drove for the tips, adding quickly that the pay wasn't that good. I have heard this comment from just about every driver that I have ever had. They always try to soften you up early.

He also mentioned that there was a $32 entrance fee for visiting the area we were headed into - an area known as the Cultural Triangle for the three main cities, Anuradhapura, Polonnaruwa and Kandy. He told me that he could probably get me into Anuradhapura for free. I told him I didn't mind buying a ticket on the assumption that the fee went toward upkeep of the monuments, but again I think he was just laying the foundation for his tip.

In late afternoon we finally reached Anuradhapura where we visited several temples. The most interesting was Sri Maha. It had a tree growing in the center, which was grown from a cutting of the actual one that Buddha sat under. Being Poya, the temple was full of pilgrims dressed in white. They were walking around the tree, which was enclosed by a high wall. Outside there were large metal racks where people were lighting little offering fires. Despite the lateness of the day the air was still thick with heat.

After a little more sightseeing we headed off to find me a room. Lucky said he had a guesthouse in mind. When we pulled into the Hotel Shalini he admonished me not to talk about price because he hoped to get his agency's discount. When I mentioned this later to some friends they cynically commented that he probably hoped to pocket the difference, but the price seemed reasonable at 1250 Rupees ($13.)

I got a room with a cold water shower, a ceiling fan and a pink mosquito net covering the bed. Later when I settled down to write in my journal a gecko came in one of the open windows looking for bugs. I also had a mosquito coil burning to repel those flying nuisances, but it turned out that mosquitos weren't a problem in Sri Lanka.

Lucky had reminded me that Poya meant no alcohol was sold, but that if I really wanted a beer he would see if he could get one. This he, in fact, did and while I was settling into my room, a large bottle of ice-cold Lion beer was delivered to me. By now it was getting late and Lucky took off to find cheaper accommodations for himself. We agreed to meet at 7:30 the next morning.

I drank my beer, wrote in my journal and finally called it a day. I had covered a lot of ground and I was tired.

Monday, February 17, 2003
Sigiriya and Polonnaruwa, Sri Lanka
I had a quick, but delicious breakfast on the open second floor balcony of the guesthouse while the sky was still gray. Birds sang in the surrounding trees and I could hear the start of traffic on the road. A little before 7:30 Lucky showed up and we took off for Sigiriya, a 5th century fortress built on a 200m (656 ft) high rock. I wanted to leave as early as possible because Sigiriya was about 2 hours south and best climbed before the day heated up.

The drive was pleasant: the air was still cool and the landscape pleasantly green. The only surprise was that Lucky was limping. Apparently, he had hurt his foot the previously day. I could see it was swollen. As we drove we also settled our accounts. I gave Lucky 1000 Rupees, 700 for last night's room and 300 for yesterday's meals.

While still quite a distance away we saw Sigiriya, a huge gray rock, sticking out of the surrounding green jungle. At the entrance Lucky declined to come with me because of his foot. First, I walked past a long pool aptly named the Water Garden. Then up increasingly steep stone stairways to a large, flat area about halfway up the rock. From there it was up narrow steel stairs, at times almost as steep as a ladder, to the top. It was a long, hot walk - probably 30 minutes - but at the top a cool breeze and a stunning view refreshed me. There was lush, green jungle in every direction and no cities or large buildings to interrupt the natural view.

After taking some pictures, I headed back to meet Lucky. From there we continued on to Polonnaruwa, which had been the islands capital in the 12th and 13th century. Lucky continued to complain about his foot and finally decided to stop at an Ayurvedic clinic he knew. Ayurvedic medicine is based on herbal healing - a kind of treatment I was just a little skeptical about.

The clinic was down a narrow, rural road in a small unassuming building. If you didn't know it was there you would never even notice it. While Lucky waited to consult with the doctor, I went nosing around the neighborhood. Just down from the clinic was a small, open-front shop surrounded by trees and plants. I walked over and sat on bench in front. Pretty soon a woman and her young daughter came by to check me out. I showed them my camera and asked if I could take their picture. I did this with sign language, as they didn't speak English.

After taking a few pictures some more women came over to see what was going on. They too got their pictures taken. This went on for 5 or 10 minutes and then, as I was getting ready to leave, the first lady waved me over to a building across the street. There were no windows and she stood in the doorway waiting for me.

Inside six or seven women were sitting on the floor. Some were mixing up brown dough while others were cooking balls of it in boiling oil over an open fire. The room was hot and smoky. All the women looked up as I started taking pictures. When I showed them the results there was a lot of laughter.

Back at the clinic I found Lucky with his foot bandaged up. Since no one was in the waiting room he invited me in to meet the doctor. He was a dark, thin man with the regal bearing that befits a doctor. I took several pictures of him before we headed off again.

Before long we stopped for my second (and last) Sri Lankan lunch. Once again, Lucky ordered and then disappeared. After a few minutes a sweet, young woman started bringing dishes, naming each as she sat them down. She pointed to one little dish, smiled and said, "Dynamite." I guess Lucky had told her I liked spicy food.

Then it was on to Polonnaruwa. Along the way we passed more elephants. First, we saw two bathing in a small river near the town of Habarana. They were lying on their sides in the shallow stream as their tenders splashed water on them. It looked like they were having a good time.

The other was a wild one grazing along the road. A tuk-tuk driver alerted us to his presence . As we got closer Lucky said, "Get you camera ready, we aren’t going to stop." He continued slowly toward the spot and when the elephant saw us Lucky took off like a shot. I guess wild elephants are dangerous.

In Polonnaruwa, the first thing we did was get me a room. We planned to wait until it cooled off a little before starting our tour. We stopped at Hotel the Village, which was across the street from a large lake. Again, Lucky did the bargaining and again I got a room with a fan, cold water, a mosquito net and later geckos on the wall. As it was hot and sticky, I took a shower and then sat outside writing in my journal.

Our tour started at the local museum, which was small, but well organized. It gave a good idea what the ruins at Polonnaruwa originally looked like. Despite my aversion to museums it was well worth the time. Then we visited some of the ruined temples. They were scattered over a large, wooded area where small troops of monkeys roamed. While not as interesting as Anuradhapura, it was still a pleasant visit.

We finished up just as it was getting dark. Instead of heading back to the guesthouse, I asked Lucky to find me an Internet shop - it was time to find out what was going on at home. First, we stopped at the post office, which had just installed a computer, but after 20 minutes in the hot, stuffy office they failed to make a connection. Lucky then took me to large hotel where they had a "business center" that offered Internet access. This time I spent 20 minutes in a frigid, air-conditioned office and again failed to get connected.

Back at the guesthouse restaurant I ordered lake fish for dinner. With a cold beer I sat and wrote out the day's adventures. After that, I got another beer and retired to my room to listen to country music on my mp3 player - the end of another great day.

Ann Arbor, Michigan
April 2003

Part Two: Kandy
Part Three: Unawatuna

Read more of my travelogues

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