Wednesday, 18 March 2015

068 CYCLE TOURING SRI LANKA


68 SRI LANKA
1045 Km – 22 Days
22 February – 16 March 2015


MAP
Photos

 

22 February – Muscat, Oman, – Colombo, Sri Lanka

The flight from Oman to Sri Lanka touched down in Colombo in the early hours of 22 February. After drawing a few rupees and buying a SIM card, I discovered Sri Lanka Air had lost my bag. The bike, nevertheless, arrived and, following a lengthy process, I left the airport, minus my luggage, and hailed a taxi into town.

Sri Lanka was love at first sight. A big smile crossed my face as the taxi headed into town, and I realised I was firmly entrenched in the land of tuk-tuks, paan, Buddhas, and monks. The weather was hot and humid, the countryside green, and the traffic slightly chaotic.

 

Colombo

The next morning, the airline phoned to say they had located the bag, and later my kit was delivered to the Clock Inn hostel, my abode of choice in Colombo. Though the bag had been opened, only the Swiss Army knife was missing. I was sure they hoped to find something more valuable than tattered cycling gear.

Once the bike was reassembled, plenty existed to be explored in the historic part of town. Unfortunately, the old market was quite impossible to cycle through. All one could do was walk the bike along the narrow lanes. Towards the end of the day, a tuk-tuk ride took me to the beachfront to watch the sunset. The sunset was unspectacular, and more fascinating was the snake charmer appearing to hypnotise a snake by playing a pungi. I didn’t even know they still existed.

 

Colombo - Bentota – 80 km

Sri Lanka is relatively small, and there was no need to race around the island. Thus, I had a relaxed start. Following breakfast, I loaded the bike and headed south toward Galle. Biking in Sri Lanka was nerve-racking, adrenalin-pumping, and sometimes pure madness.

My hands were permanently on the brakes, and I didn’t dare take my eyes off the road while weaving through the horrendous traffic, avoiding tuk-tuks, buses, cars, trucks, ox carts and, from time to time, a holy cow. The coastal route ran past numerous temples and fruit juice stands. It felt I never cleared the city limits, as the traffic never ceased.

I reached Bentota shortly past midday. The village offered plenty of accommodation, loads of food vendors, a lovely location along the river/coast, and a beach stretching for miles. Add the beautiful Galapata Vihara Temple with its maze of underground tunnels, staying was an easy choice. After locating lodging and washing my cycling clothes, a walk into town revealed plenty of food and an adaptor to fit the strange plugs in Sri Lanka.

Back at my abode, rain came bucketing down as it can only do in the tropics. I smiled, put my feet up, opened a beer and watched the rain from the veranda.

 

Bentota – Galle - 70 km

Sri Lanka was an intriguing country with several religions. Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims and Christians all seemed to get on well, and practically all villages sported a church, a Buddhist stupa, a mosque, as well as a Hindu temple. My favourite was the immensely ornate Hindu temples and I found it virtually impossible to cycle past without taking a few pictures. Then, of course, there were the ever-present Buddhist monks with their brightly coloured saffron robes of whom I snatched a few pics before reaching Galle, famous for its Old Dutch fort.

The fort was more of a citadel, and today Galle is a bustling town within the old walls. Staying within the walled area proved costly, as guesthouses had jacked up their prices by then. Luckily, I found a room at 2000 rupees for the night. Food was equally pricey, prompting me to take a walk to the main gate where traders sold snacks at 10 rupees a piece.

 

Galle – Unawatuna - 7 km

Stacks of yellow coconuts lined the roadside, ready to be chopped open with a machete. I usually stopped and after drinking the coconut water returned it to the vendor, who then cracked it open and crafted a spoon from the side so one could scrape out the coconut meat.

Soon past the coconut sellers, a sign pointed to the old hippie town of Unawatuna. So, I veered in that direction and discovered a lovely touristy village. Once in town, I immediately located digs and set out to explore the town. Unawatuna came with a lively touristy trade and, as can be expected of a touristy destination, all items were slightly pricey. Nonetheless, it remained a pleasant village with the usual traders selling clothes and jewellery, just as one can expect of Sri Lanka’s most famous beach town.

 

Unawatuna – Tangalle - 80 km

The going was slow as I found something of interest every so often, from Buddha statues to old forts and temples. I even spotted the famous Stilt fishermen of Sri Lanka, perched atop their poles. I believe these spots remain in the family for generations.

Tangalle, a paradise-like bay with cheap-looking accommodation on the beach, lured me in. The New Beach House was everything but new, but at $10 a night, the place made a perfect overnight stop, and I parked myself down, beer in hand.

 

Tangalle - Bundala National Park, Lagoon Inn - 100 km

The less-visited Bundala National Park looked interesting, and the Lagoon Inn, set in a lush garden, made it a convenient location to explore from. Unfortunately, nothing much came of visiting the park, as one couldn’t cycle into it but had to use the mandatory jeep. The jeep ride for a single person turned out a tad pricey, and I had to make do with riding the short distance along the entrance road.

 

Bundala National Park to Kataragama - 40 km

The short distance to Kataragama, the holiest town in Sri Lanka, made for an early arrival. Kataragama was a sacred place for Buddhists, Muslims and Hindus alike. Right in the city’s centre was a massive park along the banks of the Menik Ganga. All used the river for bathing, usually a quick wash before worshipping the shrines. The river was further used to do laundry and wash the occasional elephant.

The park was home to the Maha Devale shrine which sported two huge boulders outside. Pilgrims used the boulders to smash coconuts while muttering prayers. I found the activities strangely mesmerising and somewhat spiritual.

Theravada Buddhism is the religion of roughly 70% of the population of Sri Lanka. At these temples, the scent of frangipanis and incense hung thick in the air, and I watched as families brought symbolic offerings of flowers and fruit to their preferred deities. What a colourful and intriguing world.

 

Kataragama – Monaragala - 65 km

What was known as the jungle road ran from Kataragama to Monaragala. I received a few strange looks from villagers who asked if I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t sure what to fear: the people or the animals. The ride, however, turned out uneventful, and although I kept an eye out, I didn’t see elephants, let alone any dangerous ones.

As the weather was boiling, I was thankful for the countless stores where I could buy water. The coast was almost 135 kilometres away, and spotting a cheap-looking guesthouse, I offloaded my gear and enjoyed the relative coolness of a room.

 

Monaragala - Arugam Bay - 80 km

Eating the leftover spicy fried rice wasn’t the best idea as it gave me severe heartburn - I never learn.

Shortly before Arugam Bay was the Magul Maha Vihara Ruins, a 5th-century BC ruin set hardly a kilometre off the path in a densely forested area. Built by King Dhatusena (473 – 453 BC), the site was most likely part of a royal compound.

I love street food and was in my element in Sri Lanka (or Lanka, as it’s called). One could pop into any roadside stall and get a taste of the best prawn vadai the streets of Lanka had to offer. Vadai is best eaten straight from the pan while still crunchy and is generally served with a dip that includes green sambal, chutney, or curd.

At night, a plethora of street-side carts dished up kothu, made from godamba roti. The roti, a softer version of pita bread, is cut into pieces and lightly fried on a metal tray. Next, the chef adds meat and an assortment of vegetables. Then, the cook chops all the ingredients together with two metal blades. The result is a delicious collection of chopped ingredients, comprising of anything from roast chicken, seafood, sausages, egg, onion rings, veggies, a selection of unidentifiable sauces and plenty of chillies and spices.

I spent an additional day in Arugam Bay, as it was very much a swing-another-day-in-a-hammock kind of place. I swam in the lukewarm waters of the Indian Ocean and ate my way through the day. My favourite was the chickpeas with chilli, coconut, and curry leaves. It wasn’t too spicy and a delicious snack I could nibble on while walking.

 

Arugam Bay – Batticaloa - 115 km

The following day turned out to be another long, blistering hot day, and I was relieved to crawl into Batticaloa. A basic room provided a bed where the fan seemed of little help. A walk across the bridge to the centre of Batticaloa revealed plenty of food as well as an ATM - precisely what I needed. The next day was spent on the beach and investigating the Old Dutch Fort and other historical places. Finally, with the weather scorching, I retreated to my (not-so-cool) digs.

 

Batticaloa – Mutur - 115 km

From Batticaloa to Mutur, the route hugged the coast past rice paddies and sparsely populated areas. Feeling like the pied piper, I biked through tiny settlements with every giggling kid on a bicycle in tow. A few Hindu temples made for interesting exploring as they were colourful and so were the people. The oppressing heat and humid weather made me call it a day on reaching Mutur, even though a mere 30 kilometres remained to Trinco.

I’m sure my abode had never previously housed a foreign tourist, as other occupants came to look. Even the owner rocked up later, checking if all was in order. Then, he sent his house boy, as he called him, to get me a meal of fried rice from the restaurant.

 

Mutur – Uppuveli - 38 km

The next town was Trincomalee, or only Trinco. The way was flat, and I followed the coast past China Bay, with its colourful fishing boats, onto Trinco. Unfortunately, Trinco didn’t interest me much, and the beachy village of Uppuveli rolled into view six kilometres further.

The Aqua Hotel in Uppuveli sounded fancier than it was. Still, the place remained a good backpacker joint with a bar, a swimming pool, and plenty of tables and chairs right on the beach—the kind of place where one could park off for a few days. Of course, I had no intention of parking off for a few days, but I did stay an additional day.

There wasn’t a great deal more to do but chill or take a walk along the beach. The Aqua Hotel boasted a restaurant where the food, while mediocre, came at a reasonable price. The walk along the ocean was enjoyable, past rows and rows of fishing boats and fishermen bringing in their nets. Unfortunately, the area was hit hard during wartime and by the 2004 tsunami. For the most part, the houses looked like they couldn’t withstand strong winds, let alone another tsunami.

The hotel’s internet came in handy as I researched my next destination. I didn’t come up with any bright ideas, except the best would likely be to return to Thailand, from where I could cycle to Myanmar, a country I haven’t cycled before. Bangkok was rumoured to be the easiest place to obtain a Myanmar visa, and I hoped it would remain that way until my arrival.

 

Uppuveli – Anuradhapura - 120 km

Following an early morning yoga session, I hopped on the bike and pointed it in the direction of Anuradhapura. Mercifully, the road was reasonably flat with the slightest of tailwinds. Once in Anuradhapura, it took pedalling around to locate a place to bed down.

Fortunately, touts on bicycles roamed the street, looking for lost tourists to escort to a room. I usually avoid them, but they proved useful this time as they pointed out reasonably priced accommodation in one of the alleyways. At first, Anuradhapura was meant to be a one-night stop. Still, I soon realised the city was graced with a plethora of ancient relics.

The next day, I spent time in the ancient and sacred city of Anuradhapura. I understood the city was built around a cutting of Buddha’s fig tree (the Bodhi tree, or Tree of Enlightenment). Sanghamitta, a Buddhist nun who visited the island in the third century, brought the cutting to Sri Lanka.

The Kingdom of Anuradhapura flourished for 1,300 years until being invaded in 993. Today, Anuradhapura is a massive, sprawling complex of archaeological wonders and ruins built during Anuradhapura’s thousand-year rule over Sri Lanka.

The Jetavanaramaya Stupa was impressive. Built during the third century by Mahasena, historians estimate the structure initially topped 120 metres, but today it barely measures 70 metres. At the time of construction, Jetavanaramaya was certainly the third-tallest monument globally, the first two being the Egyptian pyramids. It’s said to consist of more than 90 million bricks. A British guidebook from the early 1900s calculated Jetavanaramaya to contain enough bricks to make a three-meter-high wall stretching from London to Edinburgh.

The area was captivating and appeared overgrown and overrun by monkeys. People, nevertheless, still lived in the city, and the old temples are still in use today. The most famous is the sacred Bodhi tree (mentioned above). The tree is said to be the oldest plant in the world with a known planting date. However, the tree itself was unimpressive. Much like the famous Mona Lisa, I envisaged it much larger. Instead, the tree was rather scrawny.

 

Anuradhapura – Puttalam - 80 km

The ride to Puttalam on the West Coast was uneventful. Shortly before arriving at the A3 that led to Colombo, a budget-looking abode grabbed my attention. There was no reason whatsoever to stay there, but I did anyway, if merely to extend my visit to Sri Lanka for one more day. Once I’d rinsed my cycling clothes, a short walk led me to shops and food.

 

Puttalam – Roadside Hotel - 105 km

The road was dotted with numerous colourful fruit stalls, convenient for a refreshing drink and seeking relief from the sweltering heat. Preparing these drinks was fascinating to watch. First, the orange or lime was cut in half, and the juice was squeezed into a glass. Then, a pinch of salt, water and crushed ice was added. Next, like world-class cocktail waiters, the vendor mixed the ingredients in a plastic jug, switching the drink from the glass to the plastic jar. Finally, they threw the juice from glass to pitcher quickly and precisely, catching it neatly a good metre away.

Again, I stopped at a few temples, all extremely colourful. The peafowl is native to South Asia. In Sri Lanka, virtually all temples were decorated with these brightly coloured birds, giving the temples quite a festive feel.

The day’s distance was slightly further than foreseen, not that it made any difference, as I had no intention of going all the way to Colombo. A hundred kilometres down the drag, the rain came bucketing down and I cycled to the nearest hotel.

 

Roadside hotel - Colombo - 50 km

The following day, I rode into Colombo, but the traffic was hectic. It took all my concentration to stay out of harm’s way. Eventually, I made it to the Clock Inn hostel minutes before the rain came bucketing down. Luckily, the hostel kept my bike box, saving me from finding a new one.

The next morning, the bicycle was packed and the panniers rearranged to fit into one large bag. A trip to the hairdresser made me look almost normal.

 

Colombo, Sri Lanka – Bangkok, Thailand

With a flight to Bangkok booked, I arranged a taxi and a few hours later my flight touched down in Bangkok. I found the area precisely as I remembered it from a few years ago. I headed straight to ‘Backpackerville’ where one could stroll the streets and buy deep-fried scorpions on a stick amidst colourful and ornate temples.

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