After we’d looked round the temple in Kalataru we decided to have a wander and check out the main town.This bustling community is still refreshingly village like in its appearance and it looked very like most of the communities that we’d passed through on our…Read More

After we’d looked round the temple in Kalataru we decided to have a wander and check out the main town.

This bustling community is still refreshingly village like in its appearance and it looked very like most of the communities that we’d passed through on our brief tour of the island. But here we were walking amongst it. Just metres away from the temple we saw St John’s Church – an unpretentious church in the shadow of the temple and the bright yellow clock tower. Still this shabby looking building has an unassuming presence, with its standalone bell tower and a tatty notice board proclaiming "worship every Sunday – 10am. ". I can’t be sure that the place is still in use but I’d certainly like to think it was the centre of the crowds each Sunday.

As we continued on our way a Tuk-Tuk "roared" past us with its passenger seats crammed full with coconuts and we cautiously crossed over the road near to the clock tower with its very busy intersection. Shops are real interesting here as most are specialist and seem to sell both new and second hand items alongside each other.

Some are decked out as you’d expect 1930’s shops to have been with their dark stained glass fronted storage cabinets taking care of the goods. Indeed products of a bygone age. The was a fascinating window display of bread loaves stacked on shelves - charmingly unsophisticated, but at least you didn’t to think too hard about what they were selling,

Although the streets have griminess about them there’s no shortage of colour with the Tuk-Tuks seemingly competing with each other for the best decorated and most colourful award and women walking and looking immaculate in their bright saris. Scratch card vendors excitedly announce over local tannoy systems.. . Well I’m not sure what they announce, but it seems to ensure that they have a steady flow of business although I only saw money being passed to the vendor, so I guess there weren’t any spot winners.
What was disturbingly fascinating was the crude and "Heath Robinson" looking electrics. To say that they were in the open air and serving the local community they seemed to be somewhat makeshift. We just had to wonder about how often they failed to "deliver the goods".

No one seemed to be hassling us and despite one guy inviting us to follow him for "the best photo opportunity in town" we could almost have been part of the furniture. My wife and I negotiated the purchase of some spices and shopping on the "high street" in a non-tourist shop just confirmed how silly we’d been buying some spices from the spice garden on our "road trip". I recognised the specialist shop selling natural means for cleaning the teeth and sorting out bad breath and although it looked better than what we’d seen in Nuwara Eliya I still wasn’t tempted!

We turned into a small market area on route to the train station. It was full of fresh vegetable and fruit stall. The area of town was colourful and busy and everyone seemed so good natured. Around the back was the bus depot and I could have spent much longer watching people cram onto the buses and then hang on as the bus lurched off on its journey. Not one bus left without being crammed full.

We headed back past the temple and over the river to check out the view and a gold Buddha that we’d seen on our tuk-tuk journey into town. Passing by several small stalls we decided that the walk to another market further down the road was much further than we’d thought and so turned to check out the availability of a tuk-tuk. They’re never far away and within seconds they were queuing up for our business. Deal secured (always agree a price before getting in the vehicle) we shot off down the road back to our hotel for a beer or two before our evening meal.

What a delightful excursion that had cost us less than £3 for our transport and given us a real insight into how a local town works.
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We left the grandeur of The Grand behind us and set off for the final stage of our holiday at the beach of Kalutaru. It was going to take us a full day of travelling time to weave our way down from the hills to…Read More

We left the grandeur of The Grand behind us and set off for the final stage of our holiday at the beach of Kalutaru. It was going to take us a full day of travelling time to weave our way down from the hills to the western coast and the relaxation of our Beach Resort. Despite the length of the journey our guide was not in a rush and was happy to leave it until 9.00 am before we hit the road.

We soon discovered why he happily left it until 9.00 because he set off "at a right belt" as we careered down the windy hills through the tea plantations. At some points in the journey the trees were almost a blur as the minibus hurtled down the straights before a severe breaking on the corner and then foot down on the accelerator yet again. I reckon our driver had transformed over night into a budding Formula One racer!

Suddenly he stood on his breaks as we arrived at a photo point and before we had time to get out of the bus we seemed to be surrounded by local children. Quite where they’d come from is anyone’s guess! Our guide cleared the way for us and despite my concerns that they would be plaguing us with hands held outstretched for cash it seemed that they were more curious than anything. They peered at us from the side of the bus and then gave broad grins before retreating for cover.

Back in the bus and we seem to have settled for a more sedate pace. Perhaps our guide had heard my no so gentle cursing as we’d hit another bump in the road or he’d veered quickly around another bend throwing me across my seat. There are loads of small produce stalls on route and up here many of the small two roomed dwellings are constructed out of timber and mud. You can quite understand the devastation that resulted from the recent heavy rains hitting these constructions with their total lack of anchorage by way of foundations. In a torrent they’ll act like rafts on a river!

We pass through a variety of tea estates and despite it being a weekend there are a few pickers out working. We’d seen them earlier in the day trudging along the road with bags on their back, spotted a few in the plantation snipping at the tea leaf tips, and finally taking their offerings to the roadside collection points for quality checking, weighing before logging the amount earned for their efforts. What surprises me is how colourful they all look as they turn out for this tedious employment, just to keep the world in a good supply of tea.

We pass small temples with golden Buddhas at their entrance and decided that Sunday (the day of our travel) must be washing day on the island. Why? Well the grassy banks at the side of the road are layered with clothes drying out in the heat of the day (despite the lack of blue sky) and at one point we stopped by the river bank to intrude on the washing antics of a few mothers and their children. Despite our frantic camera activity these good natured families smiled up at us with cheerful waves. The children initially bashful soon became brave when they realised that these white strangers in a minibus were prepared to smile and wave back

Having left the tea plantations behind us we’re now moving into much flatter land and rice fields become the predominant form of agriculture and at one point we stop next to a large plantation of rubber trees. It was evident that they are still being "bled" for their sap and we couldn’t resist a "nose around". Mind you we didn’t tarry too long when we saw the size of the ants that were trekking up and down the trees!

We saw a variety of birds on route including the Long Necked Grey Egret, Long Billed Sunbird, Indian Pond Heron, Sri Lankan Jungle Fowl, Asian Koel and the white bellied drongo to name but a few.

It was a long but interesting drive from the tea plantations to the beach resort and although we enjoyed the trip we were pleased to have reached the resort hotel in one piece. No we wopuld unwind and relax for the rest of our stay on the island of Sri Lanka.
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Just outside of the hotel was a long street that was "littered" with shops for us tourists. Most of the stalls were full of local crafts and some others housed small seamstresses offering to "run up garments" overnight. The seamstresses were operating foot powered Singer…Read More

Just outside of the hotel was a long street that was "littered" with shops for us tourists. Most of the stalls were full of local crafts and some others housed small seamstresses offering to "run up garments" overnight. The seamstresses were operating foot powered Singer sewing machines and would happily show you their meagre selection of material for you to choose from. These weren’t items that we wanted to buy and so although we happily responded to their pleas to "just look" we really felt that we’d disappointed them when we left without placing an order.

My wife was particularly interested in finding a carved elephant to take home and in all fairness she’d been on the look-out since we first visited India. The main problem was that there were too many to choose from. There were so many sizes, timbers and variations in posture. "I’ll know the one I want when I see it", was her plaintive sigh as we checked out the shops for the third time. She had seen one on a previous walk out, but now couldn’t recall which shop she’d seen it in! Over the two weeks we’d had a number of wanders around these shops and a large handbag, some Kandyan masks, a puzzle for our grandson and of course the elephants had been identified as possible purchases. It was refreshing that the majority of the shop owners were happy for you to just browse, but it seemed unusual to us as many countries that we’d visited before didn’t seem to understand the English pursuit of window shopping.

We were now "up against it" as it was our final night and we hadn’t yet purchased any of the items on my wife’s list. We headed off to the leather shop to check out the handbag that she’s seen earlier. The one she’d seen had now been sold but a very similar one had taken its place. The initial asking price was 3500 rupees, but the owner passed me a calculator to enter my opening offer. I was aware that Sri Lankans don’t operate to the same haggling rules as the likes of Turkey, Gambia and India so I was contemplating by opening offer when she suggested 1000 rupees. I obliged and entered 1000 into the calculator. She loved my response and grinning broadly knocked 300 off her initial price. The banter continued and finally at 2500 she stuck and refused to budge another rupee. I feigned great disappointment and she smiled saying "my final price". It was not a bad deal and so after a bit more huffing and puffing we agreed a price to both our satisfaction. The bag was ceremonially wrapped up and I was presented with a leather key ring as a symbol, I think, to the fun we’d had in bartering.

Next we head off to the craft shops to seek out an elephant. Soon we’d narrowed the choice down to three and my wife was to make a sudden and surprising decision. She preferred the cheapest of the three and so we headed back to the shop to cement the deal. Well it’s essential to negotiate and I finally knocked another 100 rupees (only 60 pence) off the bartered price. I just like to have the final say in these negotiations! The assistant (we think he was the son of the carver) shook me by the hand and placed two sets of tusks in the package – "he can have short or long tusks" he said with a smile. As a postscript I have to say, having got back home, he looks particularly fine.

Finally we visited a shop that we’d looked in on our first night in Kalutaru. The owner recognised us and treated us like long lost relatives. She told me that the masks were the price that she’s told us on the first night and as this price was significantly below what we’d seen in other shops I wasn’t too concerned when she wouldn’t reduce her price even for a multiple purchase. However, she did knock down the cost of the puzzle – not by much but enough to make us all experience the feel good factor -me for getting a bit of a discount and her for sorting me out a deal.

Shopping on this avenue of shops was fun and light-hearted and we as well as enjoying the experience we have some real nice souvenirs of our stay in Sri Lanka.
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Ceylon was ceded to the British Government in 1815 and remained British until it was finally granted independence in 1948. In those days the pound bought 3 Sri Lankan Rupees whereas in February 2011 the exchange rate was 170 rupees to the pound. I’m not…Read More

Ceylon was ceded to the British Government in 1815 and remained British until it was finally granted independence in 1948. In those days the pound bought 3 Sri Lankan Rupees whereas in February 2011 the exchange rate was 170 rupees to the pound. I’m not sure what that says about the relative wealth of the two countries!

On Independence Day it is decreed that alcohol cannot be purchased or consumed in public places and there was an apologetic note on the hotel day indicating that "the bar has reluctantly been closed for the day". At 10.45 (that time must be historically significant) the hotel had arranged for a local ceremony to celebrate Sri Lanka’s independence which started with a few speeches followed by the official raising of the Sri Lankan flag and the playing of the national anthem. The speeches were not burdensome but the anthem, although a cheery piece of music was fairly lengthy as National Anthems go. The next item on the agenda was "the lighting of the lamp" which involved the hotel’s dignitaries (the owner and MD’s) together with regular visitors to solemnly light a candle on an ornate piece of ceremonial brassware. Unfortunately the wind did not understand the rule of the ceremony and only one managed to get a candle lit. Never mind the thought was there!

After this formal part of the programme we were treated to several local dances with the performers decked out in full national costume. All dances were orchestrated only by the steady beat of drums and certainly the dances including only male dances seemed to create trance like movements from the dancers. The male dancers were athletic with gymnastic jumps and twists whilst those involving the women dancers were much more poetic and seemed to portray simple stories about folk life. I became transfixed with the delicate and expressive hand movements of the female dancers and it was certainly hard to ignore the athleticism of the guys. There were five different sets of dances – all unique to different regions of the island and all enabling the dancers to show off local costumes.

As a final treat we could pick from a huge selection of local sweets. The majority looked fairly bland and uninspiring but we did try a few. Just because they were there! Some were sickly sweet whilst others were tasteless and one in particular (a white slab of crumbly substance) only managed to dry the mouth totally of all moisture. A strange experience which can only be compared to how you mouth might feel after a heavy night on the alcohol!

Although this whole event was clearly arranged for the benefit of staff to celebrate this significant day in the island's history I sensed it was also contrived with tourists in mind. But I'm sure that it did also offer a "proper opportunity" for the hotel’s employees to celebrate their country’s independence. Many were able to take a break from their job to join the rest of us.

It was an enjoyable interlude and an experience that was totally unexpected as we had no idea as to the significance of 4th February until the actual day itself. This is a day when for all intents and purposes the majority of the islanders are not expected to work. It is a Bank Holiday for all.
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