Sri Lanka - OutboundHolidays

Vast potential for Tourism in post-war Sri Lanka

Jetwings to rebuild Manal Kadu

Sri Lanka’s travel industry is hopeful that tourism will flourish in the post-conflict period and would contribute significantly to Sri Lanka’s economy.

Speaking to The Nation Economist, Managing Director of Jetwings Hotel and President of Tourist Hotels Association of Sri Lanka (THASL), Hiran Cooray said that the tourism industry would be the biggest beneficiary of the end of hostilities.

“Fighting will end soon, and so the travel trade will become the biggest gainer until it becomes a significant contributor to the country’s GDP. The industry is slowly beginning to increase, and we believe that Sri Lanka would be able to gain a level playing field in global tourism.” Cooray said.

“The East seems to have much potential for tourism, and this would enable the improvement of the livelihood of the people of Eastern Province. We too have earmarked a location in Nilavalei, Trincomalee, for our Manal Kaadu (Sand Forest) Resort.” He further said, “We commenced construction work on this Rs 200 million project during the peace time. Although we spent about Rs 40 million, we had to abandon it with the resumption of hostilities in 2005.”

Sri Lanka Tourism Promotion Bureau is to launch a global promotion campaign under a new brand this year. SLTPB hopes social activation and the engagement process involving Sri Lankan citizens in the making of the new brand could be an added boost. It also believes that as the conflict between the LTTE and government forces is rapidly nearing its end, the re-branding of Sri Lanka could not come at a better time. SLTPB is to revamp all its communication material including the website, brochures, posters, and audio visual material, to this end, while a range of memorabilia is be introduced under its new brand strategy. Sri Lanka is also hopeful of launching a global electronic media branding campaign via international television stations CNN, BBC, Travel & Living, Discovery, and Al Jazeera.

Under its local activation campaign named ‘Making of the Small Miracle’ Sri Lanka Tourism hopes to engage locals and encourage them to feel part of the initiative of revitalising tourism in post-conflict era. To this end, the SLTPB organises Hikkaduwa and Negombo Beach Festivals, Kandy Festival, Tea Festival and Jazz Festival and also hopes to promote several key events such as the Galle Literary Festival, the Colombo Fashion Week, the Colombo- Galle Regatta, and the Colombo Marathon in a bid to attract more tourists to the country. (SF)

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Sri Lanka: More than just golden beaches

Sri Lanka is an island famed for its golden sandy beaches stretching for hundreds of miles, shaded by palm trees and cool crystal-clear waters.

But scratch underneath the surface, and there’s a wealth of treasures to be found on the interior of the island, making this a hot destination in more ways than one.

The island is home to the relaxing wellness techniques of Ayurveda, and there are plenty of ways to spoil yourself after a hard day searching for ancient treasures. Ayurveda spas are easily found in most hotels, and provide a holistic approach derived from 3,000 years of natural treatments.

You’ll be steam-cleaned, rubbed with herbal oils and receive spine-tingling head massages after which you can pick your spot on the miles of empty beach and simply watch the sun disappear into the ocean.

For the more active, there are plenty of sights along the coastline including the colonial town of Galle. With its impressive fort and huge bastions, the fascinating glimpse of Ceylon of yesteryear within narrow streets, atmospheric old villas and churches is fascinating.

For wildlife enthusiasts there is no better place to see the Sri Lankan locals: the elephants. These loveable creatures are easy to find. For the closest experience you should visit the Pinnawela Elephant Orphanage for an up, close and personal view of the largest land mammal.

Heading inland, there’s an array of UNESCO world heritage sites dotted around the island. The dramatic Sigiriya Rock’s imposing shadow over the plains of the cultural triangle transports you back to the time of ancient kings. After a thigh-burning climb to its 200metre-high summit lie the 1,500 year-old remains of the royal palace of King Kasapa. Pausing halfway to admire the vivid frescoes, the final effort of the climb takes you through the giant lion’s paws protecting the blustery peak as the best vantage point in Sri Lanka unfolds in front of your very eyes.

Close by are the ancient cities of Polonnaruwa and Anuradhapura, once thriving ancient capitals of Sri Lanka.
Polonnaruwa’s creeper-clad temples are best explored by bike, taking time to discover every corner of the vast complex.

In Anuradhapura you’ll find the island’s oldest stupa, as well as the Sri Maha Bodhi tree – grown from a cutting taken from the famous bodhi tree beneath which Buddha attained enlightenment more than 2,500 years ago.

With the Dambulla Caves a short drive away, you can easily get lost in Sri Lanka’s impressive past.
Carpeted in lush rolling jade hills, a couple of scenic hours south of Kandy lie Sri Lanka’s famous tea estates. The journey to the hill station of Nuwara Eliya can be done either by train or by road, each providing stunning panoramas of the valleys below.

Amid the landscape colonial-era hill stations deliver a glimpse in a bygone era when the British resided here.
Nowadays, the influence is as strong as decades ago, with the area fittingly named ‘Little England’.
With the temperature dropping to a cool 14 degrees, sipping some of the best tea in the world fresh from the gardens is an experience not to be missed.

Manytour operators are currently offering great ‘2 for 1’ deals to the island from £799 for two people, including direct flights and seven nights accommodation on an all-inclusive basis.

As an additional bonus, holidaymakers are also able to visit some of the island’s most popular tourist attractions including the famous Pinnawela Elephant Orphanage and four UNESCO World Heritage sites for half-price.

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Journey to the end of the world – Sri…

WALK ALONE THROUGH THE SILENT plain of Horton to the end of the world. Stand 2,000 metres high, at the edge of the cold, frosted grassland and lower your eyes towards the next landmark – the tea plantations of Nagrac, some 900 metres below. Gaze onward beyond the waves of mountains, filigree waterfalls, hazy lakes and paddy fields to the pink salterns of Hambantota and the shimmering sea, in a horizonless sweep.

At Horton Plains the central mountain massif is shaved into a tabletop of rolling patna punctuated by rhododendron and bracketed by sporadic swathes of evergreen forest. Temperatures at night drop to 0C. Yet while the air and the water in the streams are bracing, the .sun is fiery. On a magnificent day the dawn is misty; noon is the time of blue skies and limitless vision; sunset is orange and burgundy; and twilight, a quiet, purple hour.

Breaking through the mist, the morning sun transforms elusive silhouettes into lichen-draped trees. A stray beam catches the velvet on an antler and soon the plains are alive with russet sambas moving into sheltered jungle copses. Vehicle headlamps at night pick out 70, 80, 200 sambas.

Wild boar churn the ground searching for yams and tubers. Darting through the scrub are barking deer and hares. These creatures, together with the bearded bear monkey and the furry giant squirrel, are the prey which sustains the dominant predator of the plains – the leopard. These upcountry leopards are lighter in colour than their dry-zone counterparts. The other feline inhabitants are the fishing cat and the rusty-spotted cat. The observant wanderer may also glimpse a pencil thin snake a mere 15cm long, a nose-horned lizard, a glow-worm hiding in the dark undergrowth, or otters delighting in the streams.

Other than the sounds of wind and water, the only other sounds to be heard are bird calls. A much-travelled visitor was heard to exclaim, in hushed tones, that this seemed to be one of the few places left on earth where the throb of an engine does not intrude.

Feeding in gregarious gatherings are flocks of yellow-eared bulbuls, velvet-fronted nuthatches, scimitar babblers, white-eyes, pied shrikes and orange minivets. Black-winged kites nest on the fir trees. Soaring overhead are black eagles and honey buzzards. Most of the endemic avifauna is found here. The rare whistling thrush frequents the arrenga pool. Staggering around in a drunken stupor after an overdose of nilloo blossoms is the colourful jungle fowl.

The plateau, 3,150 hectares in extent, consists of wet patna grasslands and tropical montane forests with differentiations so sharp that the boundary between the two vegetation types seems to have been drawn by tacit agreement.

Every seventh to twelfth year the jungle paths become a mosaic of pink and purple and blue when the nilloo bursts into bloom in periodic splendour before it seeds and dies. Flowing streams and their rocky banks are lined with delicate ferns, while beneath the clear waters lies a fine tracery of flora which is constantly woven into an ever-changing pattern. The forest-clad escarpment of Hortons is source and watershed to Sri Lanka’s two mightiest rivers – the Kelani and the Mahaweli – as well as many other streams, rivers and lakes, providing water to the western, southern and northeastern sectors of the island.

Approached from Colombo, the journey to Horton Plains is a five- or six-hour trip by road. The last lap is rather tough on low-clearance vehicles; a jeep or truck would be preferable, but it must be one with a good turning circle, for there are several hairpin bends en route.

NO INDIGENOUS POPULATION lives there. The only human occupants on a permanent basis are the staff of Farr Inn and the Wild Life Department. The history of Horton Plains is inexorably linked with the European world. Many British colonials are locally commemorated by having landmarks named after them. Captain William Fisher and Colonel Albert Watson visited the area in 1834 and named this wild region after the Governor of Ceylon at that time – Sir Robert Wilmot Horton. A Major Thomas Skinner, however, also refers to it by the more lilting name of Willmanee.

By whatever name, the plains soon became a much-favoured hunting ground. Parties of gun-toting sportsmen rode up the bridle paths accompanied by the barking of dogs named Bluebeard, Lucifer and Bran to hunt sambars, boar and the occasional leopard. Sir Samuel Baker, who in later life became famous as a great Nile explorer, was best known in Sri Lanka for his hunting exploits. Earning his local fame as the second-leading killer of elephants during his time, Baker has a waterfall named after him.

Until it fell into the abyss below, affixed upon a rock on Kirigalpotte was a plaque commemorating the death of Hubert Arthur Grigg. A planter at Agrapatne, Grigg had often hunted in Hortons. One of his much-loved dogs had died in a skirmish with a leopard on this peak. It was Grigg’s wish to lie with his dog.

On his death in Paris in 1931, his ashes were duly flown to Ceylon and taken to the peak by the spiritedly fortified members of the Horton Plains Hunt Club who found themselves carrying the parson as well!

ANGLING ALSO DREW MANY to the plains. The streams were stocked with trout, and solitary fisherman still spend hours by the black pool of Belihul Oya. Thomas Farr was a keen fisherman of that era and he did much to develop the plains and make them accessible. The house he built in 1901 is today the only rest house in the vicinity It is named after him, and so is a fishing pool. His ashes too were taken to the summit of Kirigalpotte and, scattered by the wind, they came to rest upon the ground he had walked and loved.

The circuit bungalow, which is now managed by the Department of Wild Life, is called Anderson Cottage after its original owner- a planter in the area. The pipe-smoking ghost of a fellow-planter is reputed to haunt the fireplace in the guest bedroom.

Horton Plains continues to belong to lovers of the outdoors. During a brief period, however, the vegetable cultivator got the upper hand. He torched the grasslands, turning them into fields of potato. The air became thick with insecticides and herbicides. Though the scars of this ugly episode still mar the landscape, the air is fresh and invigorating once more.

In 1988 Horton Plains was declared a national park, thus making the land and its creatures sacrosanct. The only exception is trout fishing, which is still allowed. It is also the only national park in which unfettered hiking is per pitted.

This declaration, however, does not mean that Hortons will remain undefiled for all time. Illegal gemming and shooting of sambars have threatened its sanctity. In the dry season the grass becomes brittle and sparks conflagrations that rage almost uncontrolled. A few fire gaps and the streams and roads that trisect the plain prevent them from spreading. The fire-resistant rhododendron survives, but the grass and a host of other plants and animals perish. The grass, however, soon regenerates. Scientists do not know whether or not such fires are actually beneficial to the ecology of the area by wiping out accumulated dead matter. Another unsolved mystery concerns the dying forests. Whole patches of jungle have become tree cemeteries. Changing weather patterns, contrasting temperatures, clearing of the forests on the lower slopes and a reduction in the water table are said to be possible causes, but nothing has been established conclusively.

IF YOU CARE TO AMBLE THE plains, then shoulder a jacket and a pair of binoculars, thrust a chocolate slab or two into a pocket, wear a pair of sturdy shoes and step into Horton country. No need to carry water for the streams spring clean and pure. Whenever it gets too hot, an icy dip is most refreshing. Of course a bottle of wine helps in getting over the chilling shock of the first plunge.

Stroll in any direction and enjoy the pleasures of salubrious climes and glorious vistas. Look out for the orange-beaked blackbird and the red helen butterfly. To see sambars you must be out by 5.45am. When stepping over a stream, tread carefully. Do not crush the little orange and black crabs that scuttle across the path. Wander in gay abandon, for in this particular wet upland there are no bloodsucking leeches.

The purposeful hiker has many alternatives. The walk to World’s End is almost five kilometres along a flat path which winds through grasslands decked in pin-dot flowers and beneath vaulting spurts of jungle. Midway you will reach Little World’s End, a prelude to the stupendous view and the vertical drop that will confront you at World’s End. Continue onward and you can descend to Non Pareil Estate.

Those who wish to return have a choice. They can retrace their steps and take the shorter route back, or choose the more undulating path that skirts the stream most of the way and that takes them to Baker’s Falls – a beautiful, resounding cascade.

The exploring type may decide to investigate the first segment of Belihul Oya. Sometimes rushing in frothy turbulence, sometimes dark and silent, and sometimes soft and tinkling, the river flows through a number of pools, cascades and waterfalls. You can encounter pools named Black Leopard, Atherton, Chimney, Figure of Eight, and Tiger; cross over Black Bridge and Red Bridge; and bypass Slab Rock, Baker’s and Galagama Falls. If you venture far enough, you may discover an uncharted pool or waterfall, like a friend of mine recently did.

ACCOMPANIED BY THE STAFF of the Wild Life Department, he walked beyond the normal limits to the end of the cliff and came to a mystifying waterfall. It was not marked on the one-inch maps. No-one could enlighten him as to its name. He decided to locate it from below, and so together we went to Belihul Oya and Galagama villages. We spotted it high up in the hills dripping from the Hortons’ range. We asked many villagers about it and they shrugged their shoulders. Yes, some of them had been there, but none knew its name, until we met this wizened old man. The name, he said, was Kathigana Ella.

There are many more excursions for the physically able. They can scale the second- and third-highest mountains in Sri Lanka, both of which rise from the Horton Plains.

The trek to the top of Thotupolakanda (2,360 metres) is an easy one. When I climbed it, Horton Plains was shrouded in a thick veil of mist. During a rest stop about 15 minutes before reaching the peak, the weather relented momentarily. The veil parted to show Adam’s Peak rising neat and triangular, and then lifted beneath my feet to reveal the slope carpeted in inflorescence. A strong sunbeam pierced the cover and picked out Kande Ella tank gleaming in the distance.

Although I am told that conquering Kirigalpotte (2,313 metres) is also not too difficult, I found it a far more arduous exercise. My advice to you is never try it in the rainy month of October, as I did. To reach the base of the climb we had to cross a waterlogged plain. The path was awash in slush and at times became a rivulet. Suddenly a plodding foot would plunge into an unseen hole three feet deep. Shoes and jeans were heavy with mud. I heaved an enormous sigh of relief when we reached thc slopes. At least we would not be walking in a drain. But the solace was short-lived. The ground was slippery and we had to double over and charge through the undergrowth almost on all fours along trails used by wild boar.

Thereafter it was a steady climb until, unexpectedly, we found ourselves tumbling downwards To ascend the peak, we had to surmount another hillock. Just before the summit was the worst stretch – the gal potte, or rock slab. One had to cross over a sheer plate of rock, all glossy with moss and moisture, which lay at a (30-degree angle dropping into a bottomless chasm. This time most of us were reduced to crawling on all fours. At the summit we collapsed on the cairn. We were, however, able to muster a stony reception to our trackers’ energetic descent and strident summons to the spot where Grigg’s plaque had been.

Once we got our bearings, we felt as if we were sitting on a cloud Thick, gray mist surrounded us. The view was nonexistent. As we commenced our journey downhill huge drops of rain began slicing the cloud making our return a miserable one Nevertheless, today we enjoy recounting sparkling stories about our encounter with Kirigalpotte, all discomforts transformed into adventurous moments.

Whether in misted solitude or as a lone speck in the vast space between grass and sky, whether a patient angler casting into a brook in relaxed expectation or a panting climber struggling up a mountainside in friendly comradeship, Horton Plains is an exhilarating experience. A land of many moods, it is a windswept wilderness to which one returns time and time again.

Thanks: Anu Weerasuriya

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Sri Lanka and Maldives – The art of doing…

The Colombo airport was much more modern and civilized than we had expected. I had thought that it would be similar to the Caracas airport in Venezuela, and we were all ready to face the hoards of “porters” trying to grab your bags. We were glad to spot a woman holding up a sign with our names on it, after we got our baggage cleared. She was the wife of our agent, and she also happened to be the ground crew for SriLanka Airlines. We followed her outside to the waiting area where we met up with her husband who had just started the Sunflower Tour Agency. We then started on our long 2 hour journey to the Bentota Beach Hotel, about 70 kms from the airport. Boy, was I glad we didn’t decide to get a car ourselves. The Sri Lanka folks are very aggressive drivers, but are also probably the best in the world. Our agent would pass every car in sight, even though we were mainly on two-lane roads. Sometimes, four cars would squeeze by each other! Unbelievable!

When we finally arrived at the Bentota Beach Hotel, I was completely beat and was red-hot with a fever from my cold. The hotel was actually built on an Old Dutch fort and was quite interesting indeed. We felt like we were entering a castle! The hotel lobby had these nice ceiling panels made with batik. That was a nice touch. Our room on the second floor had a fantastic view of the beach. Sri Lankan has lots of tall palm trees everywhere and it was nice to relax in-room with the windows open and feeling the sea breeze through the palm trees. The hotel service was great and room service even better. The tomato and cheese sandwiches were a highlight, as the cheese didn’t taste so funny, like the ones we had in Nepal (Yak cheese!).

After an uneventful and mostly unappetizing (maybe because I was ill) breakfast, we headed outside to check out the two baby elephants who were taking their daily morning baths. The elephants were lying in the shallow water, and these mahouts were riding on them, scrubbing them clean with fresh coconut husks. The elephants really looked like they were enjoying themselves. Since they were mostly submerged in the water, you could see their trunks sticking out of the water once in a while to get some air.

Throughout the hotel grounds, signs of topless women with a cross on top of them were posted on the palm trees. Sri Lanka is a Buddhist country, so nakedness is definitely a taboo. I bet the Europeans must not have been pleased with that.

The hotel had quite a large swimming pool with big rocks embedded at the bottom of the pool. We swam just a little and started sweating all over. Definitely not a refreshing swim. The Indian ocean was much better. The water was warm but not hot, and Robert and I spent quite a lot of time playing in the waves. The waves could get quite big at times. Robert would lie in the water and try to catch a wave. He got lots of sand in his shorts (hee hee!) I just stood in the water because I was chicken. It was great fun!

Dinners at the hotel were not bad. The Sri Lankan food was much better than the continental cuisine. Most of the guests at the hotel were tourists from Germany or other European countries. Some of these people really overdid it with the sun-tanning. There entire bodies, including their faces, were beet-red in colour! It was painful even to just look at them!

Robert bought me a beautiful Ceylon Sapphire and Diamond ring as my early birthday present. It was a good deal even though we just bought it at one of the jewellery stores at the hotel. As our Dutch friend Evelyn would say, the ring was “cheapy, cheapy”. Apparently, we were the first customer for May Day, so our jeweller wanted our business badly. It was funny, because he was taking a nap when we entered the store. I guess business was not good for him that day.

The next morning, we rented a boat to take us on a tour up the Bentota river. Our boatmen showed us water monitors (they were lying on tree limbs by the rivers edge) and various birds (eagles, cormorants, etc.) We also stopped by this little hut where two little girls came running to show us their “pets”, a mongoose and a baby alligator! The mongoose actually looked quite cute, but I didn’t want to pet it in case it bit me. I figured that if mongooses (or is that mongeese??) were tough enough to kill snakes, they couldn’t had been that domesticated! We bought a hand-painted wooden elephant as a souvenir of the trip. We later found out that the wooden elephant was missing its tusks… bummer!

When our agent picked us up to take us to the airport for the flight to Male (the capital of Maldives), he showed us all the wonderful sights along the west coast. On our way, we saw lots of white flags and white banners. SriLankan Airlines required us to check in 3 hours before flight time, so we had plenty of time to shop in the duty free area. The shopping was WONDERFUL at the Colombo airport! We bought lots of Ceylon tea (the Mango tea was especially delicious), and bought four kinds of cashew nuts. I also bought some cosmetics because the prices were really good. Now, THAT’S duty-free shopping! I was so happy shopping that before I knew it, it was time to board the aircraft. Bummer!

The Male airport was on a completely separate island from Male itself. It was very small, and was basically non-air-conditioned. We were met with a representative from Nika Hotel, and were quickly transferred to the Hummingbird helicopter waiting area. Nika Hotel is on Ari Atoll. It would take about 2 hours for speedboat transfer, so were lucky to get the helicopter transfer instead. The ride on the helicopter was very nice since we got to see all the beautiful islands below us. The Hummingbird helicopter service ran two different helicopters, an American one and a Russian one. Apparently, they had to hire a Bulgarian pilot to fly the Russian helicopter since all the controls were in Russian. After we arrived at the helicopter pad, we then took a 10 minute ride on the boat to get to the Nika Hotel. Boy, what a trip! I was completely exhausted when I got there. But at the reception, they had already laid out fresh pineapple and papaya together with two coconut welcome drinks for us. What a nice surprise! They even had nice cold towels for us…ahhhh…. this is the life!

Nika Hotel was situated on this small island covered with many fruit trees. It was named Nika after a rare tree in the middle of the island. The hotel was owned by Italians but was run by local Maldivians. The bungalows were shaped to look like coral shells. Very interesting indeed! The water around Nika was absolutely gorgeous in all different shades of blue! The only thing that I didn’t like about the island was that there was this one bat (at least I hoped that there was only one of them!) that would fly around the pathway at night! Gross! I could even tolerate the little lizards that would run around the island. They looked just like miniature iguanas. When they ran, their tails would swish around, making them look very comical!

We were assigned the Sultan room, and later found out that we got the best bungalow suite on the entire island. Nika Hotel had altogether about 26 bungalows, and each one got its own private beach, well, except for bungalow #1 (to the left of our bungalow). The two young Italian girls (I called them the Italian babes, they looked like twins) in Bungalow #1 were sunning themselves on our beach when we arrived! Imagine my surprise when I saw them right next to my bedroom window! So much for the private beach! Our “public relations” guy told us that their beach was being repaired, and so they were sharing our beach with us. But if we didn’t want to share, he would tell them not to go to our beach anymore. Well, I didn’t want to chase the two women off our beach, but I didn’t want to have them lying by my bedroom either! But I guess Robert and I grossed them out when they saw us lying around on our bed (with our towels) after our shower (we were so beat!) I guess the Italian babes got embarrassed and decided to find another beach themselves. We later found out that they decided to share the beach with some of their other Italian friends. Lucky us!

The Sultan bungalow had two large bedrooms complete with mosquito netting over the beds. The place was furnished with old Sri Lankan furniture, and the bathrooms were actually outdoors! There was even a second bathroom with an outdoor tub. Strange! Since parts of the bungalow were outdoors, there were quite a number of house lizards and ants running around, especially at night. One of the house lizards actually got into the toilet and was doing a backstroke in it. Yuk! The best part of the bungalow was definitely our bedroom as we overlook our private beach. It was really nice to hear the waves lapping away at night! Sort of like a lullaby! There were several ceiling fans throughout the bungalow, but we really wished that they had air conditioning during our first evening there. Somehow our part of the island had very little breeze at night… so that was a drag. On our first night, we kept on waking up every few hours because of the heat. We actually went and took cold showers to keep cool.

Dinner was served from 9pm to 10:30pm! Nika set its time 2 hours ahead of Male time, so I guess it wasn’t too late after all. Besides, there wasn’t too much to do after dark on the island anyway, except for swimming in the moonlight (which we did the first night…it was really nice!) The moon was glowing on the beautiful water, and I could actually see the sand underneath the water! Anyway, back to dinner. We got one of the best tables at the restaurant because we got the Sultan bungalow, and our waiter’s name was Hussein. He was a really nice Maldivian. Lunches and dinners were always a three course affair with tea or coffee at the end. Considering that they had to import mostly all of their foods, I would say that the food was quite excellent. We had excellent pastas with tomato sauces, and we had fresh fish every day. At night, they would usually serve some meat. We also had a Maldivian buffet (curry and rice mostly) one night. The hotel actually grew its own vegetables and fruits. One night, I ordered the lobster as a special meal. Our waiter made beautiful flowers with our paper napkins. It was so pretty!

Next to our tables were this one German couple who seemed to know EVERYONE. The wife had these incredibly long thin legs. I was so jealous. I told Robert that I would like to have her body but keep my face. He thought that I would look very strange indeed! The German husband had this very very dark tan! He must not had been worried about skin-cancer!

At the other table sat the Italian Doctor and her buddy. I had requested for some cough syrup when we got to the hotel, and ended up getting a quick checkup by the Italian Doctor. She couldn’t speak English well at all. It was my first checkup in Italian! That was funny. Apparently, the hotel always invited a Doctor to be on the island for medical emergencies.

From our dinner table, we could sometimes see the moon rising over the horizon at night. It was a really beautiful sight to see the moon rising over the clouds! Too bad we didn’t have a camera to capture it on film.

There was an open air aquarium not far from the restaurant. We would take our bread to go feed the turtles, fish, and sharks (they didn’t like bread) nearly everyday. It was really fun to see the turtles fighting for the bread! The German couple had this ritual where only one of them would go feed the turtles during every meal. Strange…

Sure seemed like everyone else smoked except for us. I guess it was because the hotel guests were mainly Italians and Germans, and that smoking was quite common in Europe. Oh well… We just made sure that we didn’t linger too long among the smokers. The main activities before and after dinner were to gather at the coffee-shop to have drinks. I particularly enjoyed our pre-dinner drinks since we could see the beautiful sunsets. Drinks were very expensive in the Maldives since the Government does not allow Moslems to drink. It was a major offense to smuggle in alcohol in the Maldives. Even our bartenders were not Maldivians. The Government would import Sri Lankans, etc. to act as bartenders. Robert’s favourite drink was the Coca Dorato, a very potent mixture of coconut, Rum, and Galliano. Since I had a bad cold, my favourite was Coke with Lime (they call them Limon over there). They would serve the drinks with finger sandwiches (tuna and tomato, or olive spread), green olives and fresh coconut. All very yummy! One night, I fed the tuna-fish sandwich to the cat “Lumpy”. This one white and gray cat would always show up at the coffee shop at night. He had one bad leg and would hobble around. I called him Lumpy (or Lumpaceous) because he had these scratches and scars all over his body. I guess it was tough to be an island kitty. Apparently, he was one of the five cats on the island. Lumpy was nice and friendly enough. He would always meow for attention, and loved getting petting from me. Robert tried petting him with his foot once, and Lumpy let out this awful meow after a while. He then kept staring at Robert’s foot while meowing in this awful tone. Robert was sure that Lumpy was going to attack his foot! It was so funny!

My favourite activity on the island was definitely snorkelling! We could actually snorkel right from our beach. There were an amazing number of fish on the coral about 30 yards from the beach. We even fed them once, and these neon colour fish were very aggressive and even bit our fingers to try to get at the bread. It was fun! There was a short “wall” or drop-off in the coral, where we could see large schools of fish swimming along the wall. I couldn’t believe all the marine life! Actually, before we discovered snorkelling right along the island, we went on this snorkelling trip to one of the outer reefs. The water was very choppy that day, and I was getting quite nauseas from the sea. Everybody else (there were only four of us) jumped into the sea from the boat, but I refused. So they got me this ladder which I hung on for dear life. I was so nauseas that I wasn’t sure what would be better. In the water or on the boat. Good thing I decided to go ahead with the snorkelling anyhow. We actually saw a manta-ray swim by. The ray was a very fast swimmer. Robert tried to catch up with him, but he just kind of “flew” away. The other German couple saw a small reef shark. One of the local Maldivians from our hotel snorkelled along with us. He used no flippers at all, just stuck a mask and snorkel on. All the Maldivian men wore these long sarongs. It was really funny to see him in the water with this sarong. When we swam back to the boat, we had to swim outside the reef area where there was this incredible wall. I didn’t have my contact lenses in, so I couldn’t see how deep the water was all of a sudden. All I knew was that the water turned a very intense shade of green. Robert said he looked and couldn’t see the bottom at all. Scary!

Since I caught this awful cold, we didn’t get to try any diving at all. But the snorkelling was just fine for me. I had never seen so many fish in my life. The best part was that I could go snorkelling any time in the day right from the beach, and then go into the bungalow for a shower before coming back out to the beach to lay around. Sometimes we could see the water turning dark from all the schools of fish. Many of them would actually jump out of the water, making splattering noises. That was very entertaining! Our beach always had one or two cranes that would stand there patiently waiting for an unsuspecting fish to swim by. Robert would always try to get close to them, but they were awfully shy. So he would start running after them. These poor cranes would let out these awful noises when they were terrorized by Robert.

Maldives was having its rainy season, but we were fortunate to have only periodic showers from time to time. Actually, we enjoyed the showers because it would bring some relief to the hot weather! One afternoon, there was a big storm outside, and we actually spotted two water spouts! Robert was really happy because he had never seen water spouts before.

Lots of people were learning diving, including the Italian Doctor. One night, a group went on a night-diving trip. While we were sipping our pre-dinner drinks, they put on all their gear and just kind of disappeared into the water. One of the Germans was kidding to the bartender, saying that he better sign for his check before he went diving, just in case he didn’t come back.

We arranged to be dropped off on a deserted island not far from the hotel. It was really strange to be there all by yourself. We spent the morning walking around the island, and Robert saw this black and white water snake in the water not far from where he was standing! Good thing I didn’t see it because I would definitely have freaked out! Robert even tried to take a picture of it, although it didn’t turn out very well. The snake was about 1 foot long. It was my understanding that all water snakes were very poisonous, although they didn’t usually attack unless they were provoked. Still, the thought of us lying there on the deserted island dying from the poisonous snake bite was not a good one! It was quite hot and sunny that day, so we did some snorkelling around the island. We saw these very cute clown-fish (orange and brown with white stripes) that hang out in the anemones. Anemones were something like living coral and were poisonous. The clown-fish would secrete this mucus so that the anemones would think that the clown-fish were actually part of the anemones. This way, the clown-fish would be protected from other predators. They were really very cute. When Robert waved in the water with his hand, they would hide in the anemones, and then peek to check whether he was gone!

We also went fishing twice. Robert caught this 40 lb grouper, a very fat fish with an awful looking mouth and teeth, and also this 80 lb (6 to 7 feet long) Blue Marlin (or Sailfish, with this very beautiful blue fin and a nose like a swordfish). I caught these two much smaller fish by comparison. Boring! I did nearly get pulled overboard by this other Blue Marlin. He actually bit the steel leader off and got away. That was quite exciting! The fishermen hardly spoke English, but they were all very nice. All the fishing was done with just a hook with fish as bait and a piece of fishing line. For the big fish (caught during Trawling Fishing), we had a big piece of rope attached to the fishing line. No fishing rods at all! It was really amazing to see one of the fishermen pull in this great big shark (about 9 to 10 feet, I would say) with his bare hands! He also caught another smaller reef shark (about 2 to 3 feet). We took a picture of him holding his trophy before he let the little shark back into the water. That shark went bounding all over the deck in a fury. Robert’s fisherman actually got on the bench to get away from the shark. It was so funny to see Robert’s grouper jumping around madly, splashing water onto one of our fishermen’s eyes. Everyone was laughing really hard. The Maldivians really keep their fishing boats very clean. They would clean and scrub with sea water every time a fish touched the deck. During our fishing trips, we also saw schools of dolphins playing in the water. They would gracefully jump in and out of the water. What a sight it was!

Apart from fishing, we spent some time playing “Travel Scrabble” and kayaking. As the slogan goes…”Maldives, the art of doing nothing!”, I figured that we did alright! We could sure get used to this life! It was really sad to leave the place, although I missed Tiggra and Teddy badly. I stared at the blue waters as we took our boat ride to the helicopter pad, and I saw this spotted ray go by. It was beautiful! On the way back to the Male airport, since there were only three passengers, Robert actually got invited to go sit in the helicopter cockpit. He took lots of nice pictures of the islands below, and spent some time talking to the Bulgarian pilot.

Time to go back to Colombo for one night before flying back to Singapore. The Male airport was FILLED with local Maldivians who were seeing their relatives off on their trip to Mecca (in Saudi Arabia to pay pilgrimage…this was supposed to be their journey of a lifetime). It was really funny to see a huge Boeing 747 being filled with these folks all dressed in white robes. Looked like a giant Toga party!

We stayed at the Cinnamon Grand in Colombo. It was quite nice and luxurious in comparison to the simple bungalows we were used to. We had asked for a suite, and it turned out to be two adjourning rooms! They took out the bed in the other room and put in sofas. So much for a suite! Apparently, the occupancy rate was so low there that they could afford to have these “suite” arrangements. Our room was quite nice as it overlooks the swimming pool. After another totally refreshing swim at the swimming pool, I went for a quick massage at the Health Club, while Robert read his newspaper (first time in over a week) by the pool. There were these big crows all standing around the pool, hoping to get a scrap of food. There were a lot of expatriate families around the pool area. Apparently, the hotel pools were one of the few hangout joints in Colombo.

For dinner, we tried out the local restaurant at the hotel called the “Ran Malu”. We ordered all Sri Lankan curries. Yummy! We really like Sri Lankan food. They even had a band playing Sri Lankan music (sounded like Mexican music to us though). The food prices in Sri Lanka were very reasonable. The entire dinner with drinks came to about US$30. Not bad!

Well, all in all, we had quite a wonderful time in Sri Lanka and Maldives. I really want to visit again. I will never forget the beautiful blue waters and sandy beaches….

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The historic Pahala Walauwa in the cool climes of…

The misty heights of the mountain range surround the tranquil waters of the Kotmale reservoir which in turn reflect the beauty of this unique environment. The panoramic view is breathtaking and for a moment one might think that one has been gazing too long at a picture post-card from Switzerland. But this is no postcard, this is upcountry Sri Lanka and you are actually a part of it all.

Lazily stretched out on a chair on the back verandah of Pahala Walauwa, for a moment I entertained this hopeless hope that I would never have to go back to the hustle and bustle of modern life. The sound of a farmer working his paddy field, using the traditional method of a ‘nagula’ twin bulls harnessed, to aid him, wafted over the air.

This I mused, is the “solitude” Wordsworth spoke of and one could be “in vacant or in pensive mood” forever and ever (or let’s be more realistic for a weekend), while the sunlight and shadows create different moods in the mountains.

Pahala Walauwa, the “Maha Gedera” or ancestral home of Gamini Dissanayake’s mother, has seen a major slice of the history of Ceylon, having been built more than 200 years ago.

Today 50 years after independence, the Walauwa retains its atmosphere of serenity and peace.

Connaissance Hotel Management took over the management of Pahala Walauwa eight months ago and while preserving all its antique charm have transformed it into a guest house. The walauwa nestled in the mountains, 1800 feet above sea level, has four double bedrooms with lovely attached bathrooms in marble, with hot and cold water on tap, and provides a wonderful hideaway for groups of friends or families who’d like more than just a change of climate. Here, the “meda midula” or middle garden, considered an essential component of houses in those days, and which is once again being adopted in modern architecture, is surrounded by a corridor held up by wooden pillars, naturally creating a very cool atmosphere within.

Stone steps lead into the house which is filled with furniture of a bygone era, “kavichchi,” “Pettagam,” carved chairs and coffee tables.

The “atuva”‘ or granary which has been preserved to this day has a tale of its own to tell. It is said that since the family at Pahala Walauwa used to provide rice to other village families in the area, during the time of the British the “atuva” had been burnt down as punishment, related Bandula Cooray who is in charge of looking after guests needs.

Bandula has been with the Dissanayake family for a long time. And having his roots in Kotmale he is well equipped to inform one of the attractions Kotmale holds for visitors.

Kotmale is where Prince Dutugemunu sought refuge when he incurred his father’s wrath by sending him a parcel of woman’s attire as a symbol of cowardice. Fleeing, disguised as a commoner, he hid in the mountains of Kotmale. It is here that while living in the house of Kalu Ethana’s family “Visuru Gedera” and working as a farmer that he fell in love with Kalu Ethana.

Therefore among the places to visit of historic significance is “Visuru Gedera” the house where Prince Dutugemunu lived in Kotmale, the “Rana Muna peella” – standing in the middle of the paddy fields, made by him out of stone, where he and his friends bathed after working on the fields beside which is even today an “ambalama” a resting place of stone also believed to have been made by him.

For hikers and explorers there are many other destinations to discover. Ramboda Ella and Gerandi Ella are just two of the many waterfalls to be found in that area.

The numerous springs of Kotmale provide the villagers with water for cultivation and other purposes.

Even Pahala Walauwa depends on a spring for all its needs. The water collected in a tank is used to satisfy all the needs of those in the walauwa.

For purposes of recreation, the lounge with leather saddle chairs, and a television set provides an excellent setting. Carrom and Draughts are among other games provided for guests.

The meals served at Pahala Walauwa are authentic Sri Lankan fare. Mainly rice and curry, “mallum,” “polos”, and other traditional delicacies which on certain occasions is served on a plantain leaf as the “ambula” the repast served to farmers working on the fields.

On request, other cuisine too could be prepared explained Bandula. Tourists generally like our meals, he stressed.

Pahala Walauwa, located 164 kilometres away from Colombo, is an ideal retreat for writers, poets or artists, or for stressed out people yearning to get away from busy schedules.

The timeless peace of Pahala Walauwa is bound to have a magical effect on you.

Thanks: Gamini Jayasuriya

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SRI LANKA: INDIA WITHOUT THE HASSLE

(By, Kate Allen) The Galle Face Hotel in Colombo must be the world’s bossiest hotel. Signs on every stairwell preach against smoking and sloth, or hector residents: ‘Don’t take the lift – for your health’s sake, walk down.’

In its cathedral-high marble lobby, an honours board brags a strange mixture of celebrity guests such as George Bernard Shaw, Lady Olga Maitland and Bo Derek.

But despite its pomposity, peeling plaster and Victorian plumbing, I wouldn’t swop the Galle Face for all the slick hotels in Asia. Built in 1864, it is that most endangered of species – an eccentric, fading colonial hotel, untouched by icy air conditioning or corporate colour schemes.

Barefoot waiters in white livery, some of whom have worked there since Sri Lanka was Ceylon, serve gin and tonic on the broad verandah while you recline in your Dutch planter’s chair, listening to the wind in the coconut palms and forgetting you are in a capital city.

Sleepy Colombo. It is not hard to imagine wild elephants wandering the city limits when British rule began in 1815 or the tangled forest which stretched from its central hills to the coast.

Today, it is still preposterously beautiful and unspoiled; so lush that Leonard Woolf – future husband of Viginia and then a colonial administrator – observed how the wooden props for his washing line would sprout green shoots.

Yet throughout the past years, the vicious civil war between the majority Sinhalese Buddhist community and the Tamil Tigers deterred tourists. Now the conflict is almost over and is confined to a small area in the north of the country, well away from the best tourist areas.

Indeed, southern Sri Lanka is as safe and as uninterested in its civil war as southern Ireland. We visited after a major battle and found little sign of strife beyond army road blocks which waved us through and white flags outside shops, a Buddhist sign of mourning.

So, surprisingly, what Sri Lanka offers is a sense of ancient tranquillity – it is, if you like, India without the hassle, a country in which the tourist can indulge in the Raj nostalgia without being daunted by extreme poverty or the sheer size of a subcontinent.

For the British visitor, there is a disconcerting combination of the bizarre and familiar. Taxis are ancient Morris Minors, bicycles are cast-iron pre-war Raleigh’s and railway platforms are frozen in the 1950s, brass-plated relics of when the station master was God.

Even the food has nostalgic echoes. Ginger beer, lashings of it, is delicious with ‘short eats’, a Sri Lanka meal of puff pastries and sandwiches, directly descended from the British high tea.

Yet Sri Lanka can be disconcertingly strange. Our first night in Bentota was disrupted by a weird cacophony. The following morning, we discovered our villa was next to a temple where Buddhist monks were celebrating ‘poya’ – a full moon festival – with singing, clanging bells and firecrackers. So much for silent meditation.

That same night, further along the moonlit beach, turtles came ashore to lay their eggs. Too many were ending life as omelettes until a conservation scheme started paying locals to bring them to be hatched and released back into the ocean.

From Bentota we travelled by train – 120 miles in comfortable second class cost a pound – to Kandy, a jumble of antique shops, gem dealers, hotels and vegetable markets around a vast artificial lake.

We stayed high above the town at The Chateau, the guest house of a retired English-speaking couple. While Mr Abeywickrema, an amateur poet, penned verses about nubile maidens tending paddy fields, his wife Doris prepared food to die for.

Unlike India, there is no great national cuisine, but Doris produced delicious string hoppers – steamed mats of thin rice noodles with plantain curry, spicy dhal and whole garlic cloves fried until caramelised.

Properly refuelled, we set off for the tourist magnet of Pinnewala Elephant Orphanage, about 20 miles from Kandy, where deserted or orphaned calves are raised freely. Their only penalty is to assemble every morning at 9am to meet fawning, cooing foreigners who pay to camcord each other feeding them with bottles.

After the last of the tearaway toddler elephants have been sated, the whole herd, followed by an equally portly herd of tourists, heads for the river to wallow.

We rented a driver and air-conditioned car to take us north to Sri Lanka’s lost ancient cities. The rock fortress at Sigiriya was built in AD473 to fend off the persistent South Indian invaders. But the reason most people climb 200 metres up precarious metal steps is to see the gorgeous, pouting temple dancers painted in the caves 1500 years ago.

At Anuradhapura, once Sri Lanka’s magnificent capital, pilgrims visit the sacred Bo tree, grown from the original under which Buddha attained enlightenment. Nearby are many temples and extraordinary ‘dagabos’ [stupas], domed structures around which devotees walk, always clockwise, in prayer.

But the ancient kings’ most enduring achievements were the ‘tanks’, huge reservoirs which still irrigate the dry northern regions. We cycled around the largest after a monsoon downpour at dusk, watching children play in the water meadows, when a double rainbow arched across the lake with such paintbox clarity that monks spilled out of the monastery to stare.

Sri Lanka is still quixotic and surprising, not yet smoothed into Westerner-friendly blandness. But there are bad omens; over- development threatens the beautiful west coast and, worst of all, the Galle Face Hotel will be revamped next year. Let’s hope the creaky waiters and bossy signs survive.

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COMPARE AND BOOK HOTELS IN SRI LANKA FROM 30+ TOP SITES – HERE!

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The old world charm of the Mount Lavinia Hotel

Scott McDonald of Reuters has described the Mount Lavinia Hotel as “Colonial mystique, a secret tunnel, an amazing sunset view and a scandalous affair involving a bare breasted dancer – Sri Lanka’s Mount Lavinia Hotel seems to have them all…”

Starting off as an imposing and majestic weekend abode for a British Governor in 1806, situated 12 kms from the city centre, Mount Lavinia Hotel, consisting of 275 rooms, retains the old world charm and imperial elegance of yesteryear combined with the most upto date facilities of a modern resort that any discerning traveller might ask for.

A vast expanse golden sandy beaches with frothy white lacing of waters that go far into the clearest and deepest blues you’ve ever seen… under a warm sunny day and a silvery moon on a night sky – you’ll find what was once the sprawling mansion of Sir Thomas Maitland.

It is said that one cannot blame the staid and sober Sir Thomas Maitland for forgetting himself and falling head over heels in love with a local mestizo named Lavinia. Given the circumstances, the romantic setting, the enticing eyes and the flaming dances of Lavinia after whom the area itself has been named, anyone might have done the same.

This perhaps is why Mount Lavinia Hotel is reputed to be the most romantic and popular venue for weddings and a favourite destination for honeymooners. An extract from Newsweek magazine described The Mount Lavinia Hotel Terrace as “One of the World’s Best Gathering Places” and has this to say ….” For many people the romance of the East is inseparable from the Old World Charm of its colonial era buildings – and none is more romantic than Colombo’s Mount Lavinia Hotel…

Today, the Hotel’s Terrace Bar offers much more than just a romantic history.

Connoisseurs of gracious living come for the heart – stoppingly beautiful panorama of the Indian Ocean. But equally potent are the ice – cold beers, gin and tonics, and whisky and sodas that slip down so smoothly with the setting of the sun.”

In addition, this famous Terrace now offers its guests “Movies Under the Moon” on Saturday nights. These are VCDs and DVDs of popular and current movies, projected on a giant white wall measuring approximately 25 feet across, right under the moonlit or starlit sky, overlooking the vast Indian Ocean and the beautiful Colombo city skyline by night.

Or if your heart is set on the soft sands of the Paradise beach, try out the Seafood cooked Market on the beach daily in the evenings and have your favourite seafood your favourite way.

Don’t let life pass you by….. visit the Mount.

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An ideal getaway for a quiet holiday – Tropical…

Tropical Villas at Beruwala is the ideal get away for a quiet hide away from the hustle and bustle of the city life. Set in a large specious garden, the hotel has 50 villas, which are equipped with Satellite TV, Mini Bar, Telephone and a small lounge area. Each Villa has a verandah or a balcony which gives guests a view of the beautiful garden, many varied trees and birds. It has been recorded that over 56 different varieties of species are seen from the hotel.

Tropical Villas is an ideal location for those who are just beginning to embark on bird watching. The hotel is also a good base and conducts the famous tours to the Sinharaja Rain Forest and Morapitiya for bird watching.

The hotel has a large and an impressive swimming pool and a kiddies pool. The latest addition to the hotel is a traditional Sri Lankan herbal massage centre built according to Balinese architecture.

The friendly and courteous staff, from the Manager, Gamunu Srilal right down to the room boy, has been the key success factor of Tropical Villas.

Guests are offered flavours of exotic continental cuisine with plenty of fresh sea food prepared by Executive Chief, A.H.M. Haris and his team at the exclusively designed restaurant. The bar of the hotel is noteworthy. It consists of black and white photographs, classic furniture and wooden floor, which take guests back to the Colonial era.

‘The clientele we get over here mostly tend to be repeat guests’, Manager, Gamuni Sirlal said. We also operate the famous excursion the ‘Taste of Sri Lanka’ which involves a short train journey, raft river cross, a village market and breakfast in an aristocratic family house and visit to a four hundred year old temple.

Tropical Villas is certainly a hotel for a quiet and relaxing holiday in a homely ambience for both foreign tourists and Sri Lankans, Tropical Villas is a member of the Jetwing Family of hotels.

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Reflections of the Galle Fort, Sri Lanka

(by Derrick Schokman) Befitting its position as a prosperous seaport and the first administrative capital of the Dutch in Sri Lanka, Galle boasts the island’s largest fort – a legacy from the comparatively gallant age of military engineering between 1500 and 1800.

The Portuguese were the first to build a fort at Point de Galle, but it was the Dutch who expanded and strengthened it with the extant battlements or ramparts

Ramparts

Looking at the ramparts today which are still in an excellent state of preservation, it is possible to imagine that they were the scene of many a great battle.

But in truth the fort was never attacked. It was handed over to the British in 1796 after 156 years “in a state of complete repair” as certified by the officer who took it over.

Entering the fort through the main gate one gets the impression of going back in time to a living legacy left to us by the Dutch.

It is for this reason that the Galle Fort has been recognised by the World Heritage Foundation of UNESCO as a World Heritage Site, one of 213 places of great historical value in the world that should be conserved for posterity.

Buildings

The Dutch made Galle into a fine town “with goodly houses and a stately church,” wrote Baldeus the Dutch historian. How very true!

Most of the buildings in the fort are of Dutch origin, solidly built with wide verandahs or stoeps supported by slender rounded wooden or brick pillars.

You don’t have to go far from the main gate to see this type of architecture. The building now being used as a museum with its striking colonnade is a good example.

Close by is the New Oriental Hotel with its high arched doorways surmounted by fanlights, cool spacious interiors and a courtyard at the back – other characteristics typical of the Dutch colonial style.

This hotel also boasts a wide range of typical Dutch furniture.

Once the best hotel in the Galle Fort, the New Oriental Hotel (NOH) is now undergoing difficult times. It has been 50 per cent sold by its present owners to a Malaysian hotelier, who is awaiting the completion of the sale to begin refurbishing.

In the vicinity of the hotel is the Dutch church built in 1755. It succeeded the Groote Kerk, built in 1656, which was the first protestant Christian church to be established in this country. The Groote Kerk is no more. Tradition has it that the new church was sponsored by Gerturyada Adriana de Grand wife of Commander Gasparus de Jong as a thank offering to God on the birth of a daughter. The couple had been childless for many years.

The interior of the church has seen little change. Except that, the gravestones of the Dutch buried in the Groote Kerk were transferred there in British times and now pave the floor. Underneath the church is a vault containing two chambers. The vault has been kept locked for years, and will only be opened again after the current restoration project funded by the Dutch government is completed. Plans are also afoot under the World Heritage Foundation to recondition and name the Dutch buildings in the fort and also flood-light the ramparts.

A windmill that was once sited on the ramparts and used to power the filling of tanks with sea water to wash the streets will be restored. Also an intricate system of sewerage that used the high tides to wash out the sewers positioned six to twelve feet underground.

Over the years the sea has receded from some of the sewer exits, but the tide still continues to run in and out of others.

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Nuwara Eliya, Sri Lanka

(by Ajith Samaranayake) Unnaturally for Nuwara Eliya the sun is shining in August. Not enough to drive away the cold entirely, of course, but there is sunshine nevertheless. It falls on the flowers in the park, the grass on the race course and the waters of Lake Gregory. Even when the town is wrapped in that fine thin rain so characteristic of it, the air is luminous with the sun. It is even possible to go about without too much warm clothing.

What strikes you about Nuwara Eliya is its paradoxical size. The centre of the town is like anywhere else, no bigger or smaller and cluttered with the monuments to commerce such as banks, shopping centres and restaurants but beyond these immediate bounds lies a different spatial dimension. The town then begins to stretch outwards in the rolling acres which carry you up to the residential districts or those leafy, flowery streets leading out to Lake Gregory or the remoter roads which take you in different directions, to Kandapola, to Welimada and the other outposts in the hills.

Everything in Nuwara Eliya is at walking pace. There is no vehicular scramble, no pedestrian rat race and the drivers are the best behaved anywhere. And to savour Nuwara Eliya too you have to walk. Along those wide, winding leaf-laden roads, past those gingerbread houses with their smoking chimneys, past the churchyards and the graveyards. Even the meaner parts of the city are covered with their own gloss.

Nuwara Eliya is, of course, a town in a cocoon. To look at the splendour of the town, its hills and gardens and lakes, and even the lowly plantation workers going about in their second-hand warm clothing, is to be transported to another planet, a slice of the Home Countries in Britain where all those planters and military officers from the colonies retired to spend the evening of their lives. To look at the Grand Hotel and the Hill Club and the race course is to be reminded of the days of imperial glory when the White Raj rode on his steed.

But yet for all the remnants of this splendour Nuwara Eliya is a town cocooned, cocooned from the poverty and the backwardness in which the plantation workers of recent Indian Origin as well as the Sinhala peasants live around it. Nuwara Eliya is a town for the Sahibs, for their rest and recreation in April (when things get hot in Colombo), a seasonal town descended from nowhere and transplanted on Sri Lankan soil during a long dead era.

So the English created a dream town in Nuwara Eliya, a replica in microcosm of the English Home Countries with their manors and their castles, their eccentric squires and baronets straight out of the pages of P.G. Wodehouse. And in the town centre they put down the Grand Hotel for their culinary pleasures, the race course where they could practise the Sport of Kings, the Golf Club where they could putt in peace and Cargills where they could shop for those peculiar English delicacies such as strawberries and cream.

However, behind this tinsel facade is the reality although you will not see it easily among the green hills. In fact the billiard table smoothness of the acres of tea dotted about with their colourfully dressed quaint tea-pluckers (the delight of the Tourist Board or SriLankan Air Line poster) is calculately designed to conceal and obscure that reality. How many who admire the nimble-fingered tea-plucker or the swarthy estate coolie (those colonial hang-overs again) care to think of their ancestry? These after all are the successors to a miserable generation who were plucked out of their homes – in South India and driven in great hordes (many perished on the way due to weakness and hunger) and brought to Ceylon and transplanted on alien soil. They lived in line rooms and were dominated by a ‘kangany’ who was the overload of their world. Men, women and children were compelled to work on the land for a pittance.

If they were sick they had to go to the dispenser. If they were broke they had to go to the money lender (more often than not the ‘kangany’ himself). They were not permitted to leave the orbit of the estate over which revolved the sun of their lives, the Periya Dorai or the Superintendent who was the lord of all he surveyed from his palatial English-style bungalow.

And the country thrived, prospered and fattened. It got swollen and bloated. The tea flowed into the factories and the great ware houses of Mincing Lane, there to be marketed as ‘Pure Ceylon Tea’ by the big-name British companies which dominated the industry and funnelled back their profits to Good Old Blighty. The best of Ceylon tea was drunk at Buckingham Palace and in the best of clubs and finally when the white man packed up his bags and left leaving the brown sahibs to move into his John White shoes the Ceylonese comprador bourgeoisie was quite satisfied to fatten and bloaten itself on the surplus which emanated from the plantations and live it up in Colombo. The line-rooms were another story altogether not a fit subject for polite conversation.

But the British planters were no hobgoblins either. They were after all only doing their job. There had to be sturdy English, Irish and Scots men to come and work in the colonies as planters, civil servants and soldiers and these men were only taking up the challenge, shouldering Kipling’s White Man’s Burden. Once in a while there was even a George Orwell or Leonard Woolf to sing of the indigenous people’s misery, to make a dirge of their hopelessness. And there were the faceless and nameless English who had lived and died and buried their bones in the Kandyan hills. To visit the churchyard of the Holy Trinity Church, Nuwara Eliya for example is to confront this grim truth.

There either in ornate plaque or in fading letters on humble gravestone are the names of phalanx upon phalanx of Englishmen who had perished in Ceylon sometimes whole families out of illness. Illness in primitive Ceylon was no respecter of persons. Sahib and Memsahib could die as much as a coolie or his over-burdened wife. Some had died in the wars, the great European wars which the British had fought to ensure ‘peace in our time’. Not all of them were professional soldiers, some of them planters who had volunteered to go up to the front where they were killed and where the poppy flower is said to bloom over their unmarked graves.

But now that the English planters are long gone what is left? A new elite has taken over the place of the old agency houses under companies some of which even flaunt suitably rural Sinhala names and privatisation is the name of the game. The cry goes out from time to time that the tea industry is in the doldrums and that other countries are overtaking us. But the tea industry will go on for ever with the Periya Dorai and the ‘meenachchi’ at the two ends of the pyramid. But what of the hills themselves? Who is to be fill the economic vacuum left by the Planter Raj. The plantation workers have their Thondamans and their Chandrasekerans and the Sinhala peasants have their Dissanayakes and their Dassanayakes. But who is to revive the plantation industry? And who is to give a better deal for the potato and vegetable growers of Welimada and Kandapola? And who is to ensure that the two communities, the Tamils and the Sinhalese, live in harmony?

Shrouded in mist, overhung by majestic mountains and caressed by the Lake Gregory’s waters these are the real questions for Nuwara Eliya. On a morning the boy jockeys will hang around the overgrown race course waiting to take a child on a pony’s back. The Grand Hotel looms over the city its bare lounges and billiards room and bar waiting for unseasonal custom, having made a concession to an Indian eatery on its grounds (what a delicious revenge on those pukka sahibs who would have squirmed at the idea of eating ‘thosai’ and ‘vadai’ in its grandiose setting).

As we reach Colombo we hear of plans by the Grand Hotel management in collaboration with Sri Lankan Airlines to make Nuwara Eliya an all-year-round holiday destination. So perhaps the Nuwara Eliya town will await its destiny but as we come down the Ramboda pass back home passing those tea pluckers and the farmers of Kotmale (where legend has it King Dutugemunu had gone into exile before preparing for his last battle for Anuradhapura) the question echoes through the hills: What of the people?

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