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 after 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 even more fascinating was the snake charmer, who appeared 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, adrenaline-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, and 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 had a church, a Buddhist stupa, a mosque, and 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 in their brightly coloured saffron robes, whom I snapped a few pics of 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 walk to the main gate, where traders sold snacks for 10 rupees each.
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 found digs and set out to explore. Unawatuna had a lively, touristy trade, and, as can be expected of a tourist destination, all items were slightly pricey. Nonetheless, it remained a
pleasant village with the usual traders selling clothes and jewellery, as one would expect in 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 beachside accommodation, 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 base for exploring. Unfortunately, not much came of visiting the park, as one couldn’t cycle in and 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 Sri Lanka's population. 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 anything from roast chicken, seafood, sausages, eggs, 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 at the beach and exploring the Old Dutch Fort and other historical sites. 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 oppressive heat
and humidity made me call it a day after reaching Mutur, even though a mere
30 kilometres remained to Trinco.
I’m
sure my abode had never housed a foreign tourist before, as other occupants
came to look. Even the owner rocked up later, checking if all was in order.
Then he sent his houseboy, 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 much more to do but chill or take a walk along the beach. The
Aqua Hotel boasted a restaurant where the food, while mediocre, was reasonably priced. 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 that the best would likely be to return to Thailand, from where I could cycle to Myanmar, a country I haven’t cycled in 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 toward Anuradhapura. Mercifully, the road was reasonably flat with the
slightest of tailwinds. Once in Anuradhapura, it took some pedalling to find a place to bed down.
Fortunately, bicycle touts roamed the streets, 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 that the city was built around a cutting from the 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 it was 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, the structure is estimated to have 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 estimated that Jetavanaramaya contained enough bricks to build a three-meter-high wall stretching from London to Edinburgh.
The
area was captivating, 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 for 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 the glass to the pitcher quickly and precisely, catching it neatly a good metre away.
Again,
I stopped at a few temples, all of which were 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 having to find 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.
