Sri Lanka: Final week

Another day, another smiley tuktuk driver 😁😁 On the way to the historic Dutch fort of Galle, we stopped for the obligatory roadside 'short-eats' (pastries that the Sri Lankans love - usually savoury) and at postcard-perfect beaches - some buzzing with brunching backpackers or resort sunbathers, others empty but for the odd lone fisherman. 

Gathering sand for cement at nearby building site - backbreaking work

Mirissa beach 

More amazing bright boats with their catch

Some kind of giant bee

Impressing the laydeez

Drying fish

The famous stilt fishermen. Each family has its own perch that's passed down through the sons. It's sun-blistering work so these guys are dark-skinned.

Galle 

Like other UNESCO cities I've visited, Galle has that trademark stamp of immaculate heritage - polished cobbles, boutique hotels and quaint shops -  three things SL definitely doesn't do as standard. Wonderful, and easy to spend time in (SO nice to have fresh granary bread, salad and gelato!), but also somehow unreal and museum-esque. E.g. suddenly no street dogs - goodness knows what they do with them. Each day, before/after the coach loads arrived I cooled off with the locals at little beaches off the fort walls. Bliss in the intense humidity.  

Typical Galle street 

UNESCO missed a bit 

Stumbled across Sri Lanka v Australia test match - great atmosphere of Sri Lankans and tourists alike watching from the fort walls (the 'Henman Hill' of Galle). Below - kids are ALWAYS playing in their whites.

These are Sri Lankan oranges - green and sour but amazing juiced with sugar syrup

Galle is the destination for Sri Lankans having their pre-wedding photos done. Sweet!

Ironically, in the town of boutique hotels (when I'd splashed out on somewhere nice), I had my first crap accommodation experience - dirty, no staff around, room fridge full of someone else's rotting food, disgusting breakfast. When I complained to booking.com, the owner (away 'in hospital') texted to say it was all the staff's fault and begged me not to post a bad review (which I didn't, requesting instead he addressed the issues). Next I know the two teenage boys he's put in charge tell me they're not getting paid and were really angry with me. I gave them some money but it left a really bad taste - when guests complain, it's the staff not the fat cat owners who suffer. 

Onwards to Bentota 

Two hours Tuktuk up the west coast took me to the gorgeous beach of Bentota, breaking the journey at a spice garden, tsunami museum and turtle hatchery (unlike elephants, the turtle story here isn't one of success - victims of rapid resort development and SE Asia's greatest religion - the plastic bag).

Hindu temple on edge of Galle. Of the MILLIONS of temples in SL, the Hindu ones are always the most beautiful

This isn't just a small pineapple, it's a baby pineapple species used for ayervedic medicine - how cute is that!

Me and the Big B

Vanilla pods, not yet ripe. Related to orchid family.

Bentota is fairly near Colombo so way more raked sand beaches and luxury resorts. My homestay was nestled in palm forest with the mainline rail track separating the house from the beach. I'd love to have had more time to sunbathe but my clients had other plans so was head down. I generally try not to let clients know I'm overseas (many still don't get that you can work just as hard in a beautiful place and may assume I'm not giving them enough attention). And so I found myself in a hoodie and scarf pretending I was freezing and in the UK on Teams calls!

Tracks between my bedroom and the beach

Dora and Tony - the homestay dogs - became my morning beach run buddies. Generally (and I know some will scoff at this), the stray dogs of SL stole my heart as much as its people. They get treated slightly better than in some parts of the world (because of the Buddhism link) but throw a stick for a dog here and it cowers. The scrawny scraps clinging to life still clearly wanted what any dog wants - a 2 legged family to protect and love. 

Above and below: I did a cooking class and made Sri Lankan breakfast. Noodle-looking things are string hoppers (made with rice flour) and cup thing below is a hopper (rice flour and coconut milk). Top left coconut sambal and top right Sri Lankan rice with coconut milk. You get the theme on ingredients. Other classic dishes kotthu (strips of roti fried with eggs/cheese etc) and curd with treacle (buffalo milk yoghurt with syrup from a type of palm)

Final stop Colombo and Negombo

After a very civilised air conditioned train with the upper class commuters, I arrived in Colombo. It's way cleaner and more western than I'd expected, with relics of history dotted among the growing sky scrapers. 

My hotel - bit of a step up (literally) from a palm-roofed homestay. Concierge wasn't too impressed when I turned up in a Tuktuk.

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My infinity pool on 38th floor - spot where pool meets sea

City of contrasts

Red mosque

From Colombo it was a short hop and a skip to Negombo for final night pre-flight. I was back in a homestay - this time a room above a sweet family run shop. The family were SO kind (I got some bad family news while there and the mum gave me a hug and had me in for tea where they'd clearly got out their best China and special sweets). I will never forget their kindness from such humble means. 

Negombo is a real microcosm of the SL cultural melting pot. I was in a staunchly Catholic neighbourhood but to my west were Buddhist Sinhalese, East Muslims and South Tamil Hindus. Somehow everyone muddling along together. 

Tamil area of Negombo - a little bit of India

My lungs owe nothing to the belching buses!

Canals of Negombo

In a few years this will be all-inclusive resorts. The last fishing families clinging on.

Cooling off before the flight

Reflections on Sri Lanka and Going Solo

Travelling alone generally works well for me as I'm a natural hermit, I need space and I'm a control freak. I also find I can be much more mindful of the world around me - the incredible little things that make travel so addictive - when alone versus chatting to people. 

That said, there have been moments where I've felt exasperated, lonely, sick and homesick. Sometimes I've found myself wondering why I'm drifting about with a suitcase aged 44 when most are on the school run. 

I remember when I was volunteering in India in my early 20s and my dad came to visit (he was there for work). I was trying to put on a brave face but feeling tearful and missing home dreadfully. Dad must have sensed this as he took me to the window (I was living in a pretty grotty tower block in Ahmedabad) and said 'All of life is out there - births, deaths even street dentistry!' I still think of this on bad days on the road. So ending on some random observations:

The sounds: bread van playing 'fur elise' and ice cream van 'it's a small world' every morning and evening; Buddhist (sometimes Muslim) call to prayer at dawn and sunset; peacocks; ceiling fans; street dogs howling; deafening surf; vehicle horns....

The smells: the relief of incense on a grubby street corner; the tiny soap bars (mothballs meet sandalwood); burning coconut husks; drying fish; rain on concrete...

The surprises: 

• meeting people with names like Eduardo and De Silva (from Portuguese days); 
• number of young families travelling with babies/toddlers (credit!); 
• my white privilege - shouldn't surprise me after all these years but always feel uncomfortable being waived through ahead of respectable Sri Lankans in a supermarket bag search or taking the 'foreigners only' entrance to a gift shop; 
• how little of the country I've been able to see (must come back for Jaffna, Trincomalee, Kalipitiya, Polonnaruwa...); 
• immaculate business people emerging from shack-looking houses next to filthy waterways...

Next stop - MALDIVES 💛