I have now been back in Blighty for a couple of days, and although there is less motivation to write this blog, now that I am back in regular contact with the world I left behind almost 6 weeks ago, for completeness' sake, I need to type aimlessly one more time.
Our final day in Sri Lanka was based mainly around the Esala Perahera in Kandy, which is a 10 day long festival, which is similar in my opinion to british carnivals. If you replace the majorettes with Dancing Sri Lankan men with fire and drums and the floats with elephants adhorned with christmas lights then you have a pretty good representation of the Esala. It increases in magnitude from the 1st day to the 10th, starting with approximately 40 elephants, and inflating to closer to 100 by the end of the period - we caught the 1st day which is perportedly the "least impressive".
In a style that you will have become accustommed to, we didn't merely queue on the street and wait for the procession to start but were invited to join members of the Vet Faculty in the Tranquiliser team (which had the coolest stash in the world) to help inspect the elephants to ensure they were in good health and not in Must etc. After the obligatory period of waiting around for things to start, we were treated to a 1.5 hour Perahera, which although after about an hour became somewhat repetative, still lived up to the hype of one of the best festivals in south asia! Once it finished, and the last elephant had passed into memory, we decided that it was time to go home and pack, judging by the fact it was 10pm, and we left our house at 4am!
Although long (36 hours from door to door for me), the journey home was pretty uneventful - Rediculous consumption of free alcohol, and reaching the plane from dubai as they made their last boarding call were all the excitement that were afforded to us.
That brings me to here, now, sitting in my study in my house in West Buckland, contemplating my trip. I always planned to write a small peice about my final impression of Sri Lanka at this point but have decided agaisnt it. My impression of my trip will change from hour to hour, day to day, so anything I write here will be out of date before anyone ever reads it, so you will have to ask me yourself what my momentary opinion of my trip is next time you see me. I think that all there is left to say is thankyou to anyone who has managed to read my blog this far - I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Oh and of course... Ceylon, and thanks for all the fish xxx
Wednesday 18 August 2010
Saturday 14 August 2010
Proboscine Park
For a long time I have been anticipating going to Pinawalla Elephant Orphanage, an hour west of Kandy. It was established in the early 70s with 5 orphaned elephants, and has since developed into a herd of 86 elephants, with the most successful captive breeding program for elephants in the world - 50 live births since its establishment.
We arrived early in the morning so that we could see the elephants before the tourists flogged the park at about 9am. We entered what was effectively a giant open elephant house, with some elephants chained to the floor and others roaming around. Over the next hour all of the elephants were progressively unchained and released to go up the hill to another viewing area more open to the public. Whilst there we walked freely amongst the elephants, stroked them and fed them. There were even a couple of 1-2 year old elephants that were really playful - just imagine a playful puppy the size of a cow with a flexible, inquisitive phallic nose and you pretty much have the experience we had. It was fantastic to interact with the elephants, both young and old - it was surprisingly similar to being amongst a herd of cows, with the elephants showing a similar degree of docile inquisitiveness and endless hunger for plantlife.
A stark reminder to the role of this centre as an orphanage and a centre for protecting elephants was presented starkly in the form of one elephant, who had stepped on a land mine. She has three legs, and although she has adapted to walk, she cannot walk quickly and would not keep up with a wild herd. They did try to build her a prosthetic, although she rejected it in favor of her new gait and her adaptations to life with 3 legs.
There was one incident where one elephant was obviously not too fond of us, and tried to head-butt us, and then tried to punch us with her trunk. We were pretty happy for the chain at this point, but judging by the rest of the herd we encountered this is a relatively unique case amongst females. The males however are innately slightly more aggressive, especially in Mush (their testosterone fuelled equivalent of "heat" in female dogs) when they have to be Chained up away from the herd until mush is over.
When all of the elephants had been released and walked up to the larger feeding plain, the tourists began to arrive in droves. This was the first point in which our idealistic vision for the orphanage started to break down. The early part of the morning had been an intimate experience with the elephants, but on the arrival of I would estimate 300 tourists (just the beginning) turned the whole place into a spectacle. The whole vista seemed like something out of Jurrasic Park (hence the blog name), with these huge lumbering creatures bumbling across the view, with the backdrop of a tropical forest. This was further helped by the fact that a lot of the noises of various creatures on Jurrasic Park are in fact taken from elephant noises, occasionally in composite with other creatures to create the desired effect.
Next we received our second dose of disappointment with the running of the orphanage, as the two young elephants we had played with earlier were taken to one of the elephant sheds, chained to the floor, and then surrounded by at least 500 tourists, all squabbling for a place close to the barrier, which the elephants could reach at the very end of its tether. You could then pay a nominal fee to queue to feed a bottle of milk to the elephant, whilst all of the other people taunted the young elephants, poked them in the face, encouraged by the poor creatures growls of discontent to poke more (mainly the children who didn't seem to have any appreciable parental presence).
The elephants were then herded by mahoots (obviously using their spear) down to the river to wash. The river is overlooked by seating for what must be 1000 people in various "elephant view hotels" and cafes etc. These seats were all taken, and many more people still were standing, both in the stands and down by the water itself, up to the "do not cross" line. Here the tourists became even more abhorant, throwing anything they could find to see if they could get the elephants to eat it. Just in the period of time we were there we saw several full drinks cartons (including the carton) and a tube of pringles (including the tube) thrown to the elephants for their delectation. Much to my horror the elephants ate the pringles, tube and all (not the metal bit) but it left me wondering what kind of people could make the journey all the way to Sri Lanka, to visit wildlife, and show its welfare such contempt.
With 16,000kg of food being required daily, as well as the employment of mahoots, vets, and many other administrative staff, the money from the tourists is essential for the maintenance of the park, and the work it is doing to conserve elephants , although I just wish that there was a way to attract tourists to the park without creating stress for its resident elephants.
Talking to the head Vet at the orphanage was an eye-openning experience. He explained the concern he had for the stress that tourists could cause the elephants (not to mention the pringle related damage) but he also explained the help they gave to the weaker members of the herd as well as the breeding program they have to help preserve the animals for future generations. Weaker members bathe in the river seperately to the main herd, and are given extra care, and food, which they certainly would not get in the wild. Another had its scapula (shoulder blade) broken in a fight with another elephant, and instead of being left to die, she is being given calcium supplements and is having most of her weight supported in a large cradle device made in-house, giving her the best chance to recover and rejoin the herd in a couple of months time.
Overall, I fully understand and appreciate the controversy which has formed around Pinnawalla in the press, as although it does provide care for orphaned elephants, and those born in captivity, these elephants can only ever be described as "semi-wild", as they can never be reintroduced to the wild, even if they encourage herd interactions of a similar kind to those you see in the natural world. It is a brilliant facility, with dedicated workers, but the need for money from tourists is changing it from what could be a true recreation of wild life for the elephants in semi-captivity to a conveyor-belt of spectable for the benefit of the tourists, sometimes to the detriment of the very elephants that the centre is there to look after.
This is likely to be my last blog from here - I am going to attend the Kandy Perahera (Kind of a carnival, but exchange the floats with elephants draped with Christmas lights - similar to what I saw in Anuradhapura) although I leave here at 4am on Monday. I feel I have one more blog in me, but it shall not be written until I am safely back in Blighty. So thanks to anyone who has stuck with me so far - only one more to read :) xx
We arrived early in the morning so that we could see the elephants before the tourists flogged the park at about 9am. We entered what was effectively a giant open elephant house, with some elephants chained to the floor and others roaming around. Over the next hour all of the elephants were progressively unchained and released to go up the hill to another viewing area more open to the public. Whilst there we walked freely amongst the elephants, stroked them and fed them. There were even a couple of 1-2 year old elephants that were really playful - just imagine a playful puppy the size of a cow with a flexible, inquisitive phallic nose and you pretty much have the experience we had. It was fantastic to interact with the elephants, both young and old - it was surprisingly similar to being amongst a herd of cows, with the elephants showing a similar degree of docile inquisitiveness and endless hunger for plantlife.
A stark reminder to the role of this centre as an orphanage and a centre for protecting elephants was presented starkly in the form of one elephant, who had stepped on a land mine. She has three legs, and although she has adapted to walk, she cannot walk quickly and would not keep up with a wild herd. They did try to build her a prosthetic, although she rejected it in favor of her new gait and her adaptations to life with 3 legs.
There was one incident where one elephant was obviously not too fond of us, and tried to head-butt us, and then tried to punch us with her trunk. We were pretty happy for the chain at this point, but judging by the rest of the herd we encountered this is a relatively unique case amongst females. The males however are innately slightly more aggressive, especially in Mush (their testosterone fuelled equivalent of "heat" in female dogs) when they have to be Chained up away from the herd until mush is over.
When all of the elephants had been released and walked up to the larger feeding plain, the tourists began to arrive in droves. This was the first point in which our idealistic vision for the orphanage started to break down. The early part of the morning had been an intimate experience with the elephants, but on the arrival of I would estimate 300 tourists (just the beginning) turned the whole place into a spectacle. The whole vista seemed like something out of Jurrasic Park (hence the blog name), with these huge lumbering creatures bumbling across the view, with the backdrop of a tropical forest. This was further helped by the fact that a lot of the noises of various creatures on Jurrasic Park are in fact taken from elephant noises, occasionally in composite with other creatures to create the desired effect.
Next we received our second dose of disappointment with the running of the orphanage, as the two young elephants we had played with earlier were taken to one of the elephant sheds, chained to the floor, and then surrounded by at least 500 tourists, all squabbling for a place close to the barrier, which the elephants could reach at the very end of its tether. You could then pay a nominal fee to queue to feed a bottle of milk to the elephant, whilst all of the other people taunted the young elephants, poked them in the face, encouraged by the poor creatures growls of discontent to poke more (mainly the children who didn't seem to have any appreciable parental presence).
The elephants were then herded by mahoots (obviously using their spear) down to the river to wash. The river is overlooked by seating for what must be 1000 people in various "elephant view hotels" and cafes etc. These seats were all taken, and many more people still were standing, both in the stands and down by the water itself, up to the "do not cross" line. Here the tourists became even more abhorant, throwing anything they could find to see if they could get the elephants to eat it. Just in the period of time we were there we saw several full drinks cartons (including the carton) and a tube of pringles (including the tube) thrown to the elephants for their delectation. Much to my horror the elephants ate the pringles, tube and all (not the metal bit) but it left me wondering what kind of people could make the journey all the way to Sri Lanka, to visit wildlife, and show its welfare such contempt.
With 16,000kg of food being required daily, as well as the employment of mahoots, vets, and many other administrative staff, the money from the tourists is essential for the maintenance of the park, and the work it is doing to conserve elephants , although I just wish that there was a way to attract tourists to the park without creating stress for its resident elephants.
Talking to the head Vet at the orphanage was an eye-openning experience. He explained the concern he had for the stress that tourists could cause the elephants (not to mention the pringle related damage) but he also explained the help they gave to the weaker members of the herd as well as the breeding program they have to help preserve the animals for future generations. Weaker members bathe in the river seperately to the main herd, and are given extra care, and food, which they certainly would not get in the wild. Another had its scapula (shoulder blade) broken in a fight with another elephant, and instead of being left to die, she is being given calcium supplements and is having most of her weight supported in a large cradle device made in-house, giving her the best chance to recover and rejoin the herd in a couple of months time.
Overall, I fully understand and appreciate the controversy which has formed around Pinnawalla in the press, as although it does provide care for orphaned elephants, and those born in captivity, these elephants can only ever be described as "semi-wild", as they can never be reintroduced to the wild, even if they encourage herd interactions of a similar kind to those you see in the natural world. It is a brilliant facility, with dedicated workers, but the need for money from tourists is changing it from what could be a true recreation of wild life for the elephants in semi-captivity to a conveyor-belt of spectable for the benefit of the tourists, sometimes to the detriment of the very elephants that the centre is there to look after.
This is likely to be my last blog from here - I am going to attend the Kandy Perahera (Kind of a carnival, but exchange the floats with elephants draped with Christmas lights - similar to what I saw in Anuradhapura) although I leave here at 4am on Monday. I feel I have one more blog in me, but it shall not be written until I am safely back in Blighty. So thanks to anyone who has stuck with me so far - only one more to read :) xx
Chilling, Relaxing, Having a lion lager!
Since Trincomalee, I have to admit not all that much has happened. As ashamed as I should be to say this, we have relapsed into a state similar to that of holiday in the UK - watching a few films, going on cycle rides and strolls, and having a few beers/arrack in the evening. I couldnt say that we have integrated into the culture here, for the reason of the observer effect mentioned in a previous blog, but I would certainly say we have become accustomed to the ways of the country. I have said throughout the trip that as soon as I was fully comfortable with the country, it was time to go home, so in many ways this is good as it is coinciding well with the end of our trip. Even though we are feeling much more at ease here, there have still been some events of note since Trinco, which I at least found fun or interesting.
Firstly, in wildlife watch, we have finally seen a live snake - we saw it slithering towards Kandy lake on one of our common walks of its perimiter. I thought I identified it as a small scale viper, although this might be me being melodramtic, and thus should not be taken as verbatum! In other news, we saw a pair of porcupines on leads today being taken for a walk by a local. They were being walked just like any dogs would be in the UK, and what was weirder was that nobody else seemed to take much notice of it - I suppose that they all must just know this person as porcupine-woman and are used to it.
The wildlife here also seems to show a inclination towards powerlines, as we realised that all of the bats that we had seen hanging from power lines didnt seem to move at all from day to day, and were in fact fried bats who had been cooked over the period of a few days by the electricity. Similar fates seem to befall monkeys here, as we saw a blackened monkey running on its hind legs as it clearly could not put its front paws onto the floor. We dubbed the monkey "burny", and assumed that its condition was due to the power lines. This was however questioned when we saw that locals were throwing the equivalent of french bangers at monkeys to keep them away from their house, so "burny" might in fact be "explodey"... either way it isn't a fantastic effect that humanity is having on wildlife.
This poweline vs animal struggle is by no means a one sided battle, with both sides taking regular casulties. We have had a number of monkey-related power cuts during our stay, although these seem far more accepted than power cuts are in the UK. The family purely gets out the candles, lights them and then gets on with their evening. Two nights ago myself Ben and Sophie ended up playing pictionary by candlelight which in my opinion was brilliant fun, and much better than mindlessly watching a film for the evening.
Another thing that we entertained ourselves with was attaching ourselves to a Vet Surgeon for the day, observing operations on Dogs, and the different methods used here for the procedures. Firstly of note is the somewhat more "trial and error" method of anesthesia. The dog undergoing a spey was knocked out by some thiopentone, and then just left. Only when the dog had her eyes open and was twitching (with half of its uterus out of the incision on the table) was more thiopentone adminstered. This combined with a "take it all out and have a good look around" approach to surgery made for in my opinion a justification of the 500 rupee (3 pound) charge for the procedure. I didn't have the heart to ask what the survival rate was.
Finally of note was the experience of cycling in Sri Lanka, which I attempted for the first time yesterday. My overshaddowing observation is that it isn't safe. I have cycled in Cambridge for 3 years, and am thus used to busses passing within a foot of you on a regular basis. I am however not used to making physical contact with busses as they overtake me around a blind corner towards oncoming traffic - that was new! The build quality of the bikes out here seems to leave a bit to be desired too. The bike was shiney and looked new, but after cycling about a mile down the road, the front brake cable had come detached and the suspension had loosened so that my pedals were about an inch off the floor as I cycled. However the topper came half a mile later as the left pedal took leave from its attachement to the bike, and decided that it would much prefer to be lying on the road. After walking the 1.5 miles back to a garage, I got the various maladies corrected and decided that busses are cheaper, better and safer than cycling, and put the bike back in the shed, with no intention of taking it out again - unsurprisingly.
I have finally gone to Pinnawalla Elephant orphanage, although I feel that it warrants its own blog, so here endeth the 15th lesson.
Firstly, in wildlife watch, we have finally seen a live snake - we saw it slithering towards Kandy lake on one of our common walks of its perimiter. I thought I identified it as a small scale viper, although this might be me being melodramtic, and thus should not be taken as verbatum! In other news, we saw a pair of porcupines on leads today being taken for a walk by a local. They were being walked just like any dogs would be in the UK, and what was weirder was that nobody else seemed to take much notice of it - I suppose that they all must just know this person as porcupine-woman and are used to it.
The wildlife here also seems to show a inclination towards powerlines, as we realised that all of the bats that we had seen hanging from power lines didnt seem to move at all from day to day, and were in fact fried bats who had been cooked over the period of a few days by the electricity. Similar fates seem to befall monkeys here, as we saw a blackened monkey running on its hind legs as it clearly could not put its front paws onto the floor. We dubbed the monkey "burny", and assumed that its condition was due to the power lines. This was however questioned when we saw that locals were throwing the equivalent of french bangers at monkeys to keep them away from their house, so "burny" might in fact be "explodey"... either way it isn't a fantastic effect that humanity is having on wildlife.
This poweline vs animal struggle is by no means a one sided battle, with both sides taking regular casulties. We have had a number of monkey-related power cuts during our stay, although these seem far more accepted than power cuts are in the UK. The family purely gets out the candles, lights them and then gets on with their evening. Two nights ago myself Ben and Sophie ended up playing pictionary by candlelight which in my opinion was brilliant fun, and much better than mindlessly watching a film for the evening.
Another thing that we entertained ourselves with was attaching ourselves to a Vet Surgeon for the day, observing operations on Dogs, and the different methods used here for the procedures. Firstly of note is the somewhat more "trial and error" method of anesthesia. The dog undergoing a spey was knocked out by some thiopentone, and then just left. Only when the dog had her eyes open and was twitching (with half of its uterus out of the incision on the table) was more thiopentone adminstered. This combined with a "take it all out and have a good look around" approach to surgery made for in my opinion a justification of the 500 rupee (3 pound) charge for the procedure. I didn't have the heart to ask what the survival rate was.
Finally of note was the experience of cycling in Sri Lanka, which I attempted for the first time yesterday. My overshaddowing observation is that it isn't safe. I have cycled in Cambridge for 3 years, and am thus used to busses passing within a foot of you on a regular basis. I am however not used to making physical contact with busses as they overtake me around a blind corner towards oncoming traffic - that was new! The build quality of the bikes out here seems to leave a bit to be desired too. The bike was shiney and looked new, but after cycling about a mile down the road, the front brake cable had come detached and the suspension had loosened so that my pedals were about an inch off the floor as I cycled. However the topper came half a mile later as the left pedal took leave from its attachement to the bike, and decided that it would much prefer to be lying on the road. After walking the 1.5 miles back to a garage, I got the various maladies corrected and decided that busses are cheaper, better and safer than cycling, and put the bike back in the shed, with no intention of taking it out again - unsurprisingly.
I have finally gone to Pinnawalla Elephant orphanage, although I feel that it warrants its own blog, so here endeth the 15th lesson.
Monday 9 August 2010
Stars,Ships and Troopers - Trincomalee Part II
The buffet was spectacular, unlimited cups of tea, and meat from every animal you could imagine, and some you couldn't gave a very welcome change from the choice of fish, chicken and egg curry and rice we had come accustomed to. The food was served with a kind of disdain from the head waiter who clearly saw that this kind of establishment was not where we would normally dine, but as we ate ourselves into a meat induced stupor, his disdain became comical, as we ate at least double the food that the price we paid suggested we should receive. 2 hours after starting our mission to financially cripple the hotel though the medium of binge eating, we waddled out of the restaurant back into the hotel grounds.
We relaxed here for about an hour, pretending we were wealthy enough to stay in such a place, enjoying the live music, and the ambiance around the pool area. All these people were clearly jet-set, and we enjoyed our 3 hours among them, before the moment when we would inevitably have to return to our sink-less hovel, and resume our lives and semi-tramps. Before accepting this reality we managed to walk most of the way back to our hovel before deciding that a rest was in order, primarily to let our food baby settle, but with spectacular secondary benefits. We looked up at the sky and realised that there was an utter lack of light pollution, which normally obscures the view of the stars, making less of them visible.
We could see more stars than I could ever dream of seeing in England, and the milky way, and countless constellations that I used to know the names of were vividly clear. What was extra special though was the fact that one of the large meteor showers of the year is occuring at the moment, which, in the low light conditions filled the sky with as many as 1 shooting star every minute. We lay on the beach, recovering from our gluttony for several hours, until the undoubted stellar highlight occured. There was a powercut along the beach, plunging what was left of light pollution into total darkness. This cut lasted all of 10 seconds, but right in the middle of it, the biggest, brightest shooting star I've ever seen traversed the sky, leaving a glow of its trail for several more seconds, before the power cut came to an end, bringing us back to some semblance of reality!
Across the bay there were also about 50-70 light sources bobbing up and down with the waves. We assumed this was some kind of a line of buoys, but we found out the next day it was a hareem of fishing boats, fishing at night as it provided them with the best catch. This would of course explain the fact that Fish had featured heavily in every meal we had had at Trinco up until this point, and also why all the boats seemed to be on land during the day, with nobody manning them!
The next day, we went into Trinco to give it another chance, by looking at its two major cultural sites - Fort Frederick and the garrison cemetary. Fort Frederick was built in the late 1600s by the dutch, and subsequently owned in turn by the dutch, french and british at various times over the next few centuries. It was bombed in 1942 by the Japanese as part of the pacific campaign, and has since been converted into a Sri Lankan military base, presumably to help maintain order after the civil war. The fort itself is open to the public, with only certain garrisons and barracks being out of bounds - It was interesting to compare the UK military base with one in Sri Lanka, seeing deer freely wander around the base, and bus loads of tourists pass through this base (although I am sure this is the exception in Sri Lankan bases as apposed to the norm!).
The major appeal of the fort is a Hindu Temple built in 1980, at the far end of the Headland on which the fort sits. It sounds bad to say this but once you have seen one Temple, you have seen most, and we spent little time wandering around it before heading back towards the centre of Trinco, where the garrison cemetary is. In contrast to the cemetary at Kandy, it was in terrible disrepair - it obviously had not fared well in the tsunami, although it was equally clear that little attention had been paid to the site since the Sri Lankans gained independance from the British. There were goats and deer casually walking around the dilapidated site, and it was sad to think that this was the final resting place of so many British and commonwealth servicemen, and also of Jane Austins Brother, Rear Admiral Charles Austen.
With the feeling that our original thoughts about Trinco had been confirmed, we returned to the hovel to relax by the beach for one last evening before heading back to Kandy. As the area was so hot, in the thirties, the early morning and the evening were the only times that you could relaistically leave shade for any period of time - as we found out to our skins detriment whilst on pigeon island. We relaxed in and around the sea until the sun went down, and then from then on in watched the light blue sky turn progressively to darker blue and black, and then watched the stars appear in the sky. We ended up going to bed ridiculously early that night, as we planned to be up to see sunrise from the east-facing beach the following morning at half 5!
We managed to get up, although to our disappointment it was somewhat cloudy, making the sunrise fall just short of perfect (although it was still awesome). This incentive to get up early also gave us time to enjoy the beach and sea at Trinco one last time before at about 9am the temperature became too hot to be out of shade, at which point we headed back to Kandy via another stupidly long bus!
Overall, although Trinco itself was a bit of a dive, I was glad we came for the areas north of Trinco itself, if for no other reason than the presence of fish justifying the name of this blog, changing it from an inane pun to an inane pun which at least partially descibes the trip! The beach was beautiful, and so were the fish, the wildlife and the scenery; however I am slightly split about the idea that a 200 dollar a night resort can exist 4km away from a town which is still receiving help from the UN in a humanitarian crisis... something doesn't quite add up there.
Anyway, enough rambling, I only have 1 more week here, so I should be out doing stuff. I fully intend to have a bit of a rest tomorrow, although after that I have been assured that I will actually go to the elephant orphanage, and who knows, they might have been telling the truth this time! xx
We relaxed here for about an hour, pretending we were wealthy enough to stay in such a place, enjoying the live music, and the ambiance around the pool area. All these people were clearly jet-set, and we enjoyed our 3 hours among them, before the moment when we would inevitably have to return to our sink-less hovel, and resume our lives and semi-tramps. Before accepting this reality we managed to walk most of the way back to our hovel before deciding that a rest was in order, primarily to let our food baby settle, but with spectacular secondary benefits. We looked up at the sky and realised that there was an utter lack of light pollution, which normally obscures the view of the stars, making less of them visible.
We could see more stars than I could ever dream of seeing in England, and the milky way, and countless constellations that I used to know the names of were vividly clear. What was extra special though was the fact that one of the large meteor showers of the year is occuring at the moment, which, in the low light conditions filled the sky with as many as 1 shooting star every minute. We lay on the beach, recovering from our gluttony for several hours, until the undoubted stellar highlight occured. There was a powercut along the beach, plunging what was left of light pollution into total darkness. This cut lasted all of 10 seconds, but right in the middle of it, the biggest, brightest shooting star I've ever seen traversed the sky, leaving a glow of its trail for several more seconds, before the power cut came to an end, bringing us back to some semblance of reality!
Across the bay there were also about 50-70 light sources bobbing up and down with the waves. We assumed this was some kind of a line of buoys, but we found out the next day it was a hareem of fishing boats, fishing at night as it provided them with the best catch. This would of course explain the fact that Fish had featured heavily in every meal we had had at Trinco up until this point, and also why all the boats seemed to be on land during the day, with nobody manning them!
The next day, we went into Trinco to give it another chance, by looking at its two major cultural sites - Fort Frederick and the garrison cemetary. Fort Frederick was built in the late 1600s by the dutch, and subsequently owned in turn by the dutch, french and british at various times over the next few centuries. It was bombed in 1942 by the Japanese as part of the pacific campaign, and has since been converted into a Sri Lankan military base, presumably to help maintain order after the civil war. The fort itself is open to the public, with only certain garrisons and barracks being out of bounds - It was interesting to compare the UK military base with one in Sri Lanka, seeing deer freely wander around the base, and bus loads of tourists pass through this base (although I am sure this is the exception in Sri Lankan bases as apposed to the norm!).
The major appeal of the fort is a Hindu Temple built in 1980, at the far end of the Headland on which the fort sits. It sounds bad to say this but once you have seen one Temple, you have seen most, and we spent little time wandering around it before heading back towards the centre of Trinco, where the garrison cemetary is. In contrast to the cemetary at Kandy, it was in terrible disrepair - it obviously had not fared well in the tsunami, although it was equally clear that little attention had been paid to the site since the Sri Lankans gained independance from the British. There were goats and deer casually walking around the dilapidated site, and it was sad to think that this was the final resting place of so many British and commonwealth servicemen, and also of Jane Austins Brother, Rear Admiral Charles Austen.
With the feeling that our original thoughts about Trinco had been confirmed, we returned to the hovel to relax by the beach for one last evening before heading back to Kandy. As the area was so hot, in the thirties, the early morning and the evening were the only times that you could relaistically leave shade for any period of time - as we found out to our skins detriment whilst on pigeon island. We relaxed in and around the sea until the sun went down, and then from then on in watched the light blue sky turn progressively to darker blue and black, and then watched the stars appear in the sky. We ended up going to bed ridiculously early that night, as we planned to be up to see sunrise from the east-facing beach the following morning at half 5!
We managed to get up, although to our disappointment it was somewhat cloudy, making the sunrise fall just short of perfect (although it was still awesome). This incentive to get up early also gave us time to enjoy the beach and sea at Trinco one last time before at about 9am the temperature became too hot to be out of shade, at which point we headed back to Kandy via another stupidly long bus!
Overall, although Trinco itself was a bit of a dive, I was glad we came for the areas north of Trinco itself, if for no other reason than the presence of fish justifying the name of this blog, changing it from an inane pun to an inane pun which at least partially descibes the trip! The beach was beautiful, and so were the fish, the wildlife and the scenery; however I am slightly split about the idea that a 200 dollar a night resort can exist 4km away from a town which is still receiving help from the UN in a humanitarian crisis... something doesn't quite add up there.
Anyway, enough rambling, I only have 1 more week here, so I should be out doing stuff. I fully intend to have a bit of a rest tomorrow, although after that I have been assured that I will actually go to the elephant orphanage, and who knows, they might have been telling the truth this time! xx
Finding Nemo - Trincomalee part I
5 and a half hours on a bus - not just an ordinary national express bus, but one of the Sri Lankan "hold on for you life" masterpieces is a pretty long time. I wont dwell on the journey as much as the destination, but it was pretty dire - although entirely worthwhile for the experiences we got at the other end of it!
We arrived at Trincomalee (aka Trinco) at approx midday, to be greeted by 35 degree heat - the stuff that I could feel burning my fragile western skin as soon as I disembarked from the bus. We were confronted with what in my opinion was the opposite of the tropical paradise I was expecting just from the location and the stories I had been told. 80% of the shops were closed, presumably permanently after the strife the city has endured since the 2004 tsunami, and over the civil war, and bullet holes were visible on several walls around the bus stop. This should have come as no real surprise to me judging by the number of military road blocks on the road from Habarana to Trinco, and the fact that it was off limits to tourists until only 2008 (or even 2009 by some reports). Open sewers, a lack of westerners, relative hostility from the locals and many UN vehicles passing by left myself and Ben thinking, is this the right place - have we made a mistake.
We went about finding the promised accomodation from the regional Veterinary office, as we did in Newara Eliya, but after inquiring in Gvt. office after Gvt. office, came to the conclusion that such an office did not even exist in trinco, and was in a small town called Upeveli, 4km north of Trinco. A Sri Lankan bus ride, and an hour of trying to follow some atrocious napkin instructions to this office turned up nothing except a dubious looking farm, at which point we gave up, and decided to look for accommodation off our own backs in Upeveli. We looked around a few misc. establishments and were confronted with a mix of mould, insects and overt structural instability, so decided that the beach there, which the guide assured us was touristy, was the best way to find somewhere to spend our 3 nights.
We came across a small place called French gardens, which was in the guide as a cheapy, and was approx 50m from the sea. Upon seeing that it had 2 beds, a functioning shower and toilet and was only 6 pounds a night between the two of us, we were utterly sold! Sure it didnt have a sink, and the shower was just a giant pipe pointed at the floor, we had a room by the Indian ocean, in season, for 6 pounds... we still won! The beach was entirely flawless - flat, blue Indian ocean lapping at the fine, golden sands - small fishing boats perched on the scorching ground, waiting for their nighttime launch. Even the cows wandering up and down the beach couldn't spoil the ideal view and feel of the place. Any feeling that we had come to the wrong place simply vanished, and as we walked up the coastline, we discovered that there were many hotels, including a 200 dollar a night beast nestled in the small bay, just firing up their businesses after the tourist drought of the civil war.
We had a pleasent enough nights sleep, and woke up the next day ready to go to the fabled Pigeon island we had heard so much about to go snorkelling amongst the coral reefs, or what was left of them after the tsunami. after a 15 minute boat ride in what was effectively a bath tub with an outboard, we were left to our own devices with a group of french, italian and spanish tourists on this small island. The beaches of the island were oddly enough not made of sand, but purely of broken peices of coral, and coral ground down nearly as fine as normal sand, giving an eerie reminder of quite how much damage the 2004 tsunami must have done to this stretch of coast, and its ecosystem Not wanting to waste a moment, we got straight in, and snorkelled out amongst the reefs. They have recovered impressively since the tsunami, and I had the exact same panorama through my snorkel that is visible on any Animal Planet show, slowly navigating amongst the coral, seeing endless numbers of fish species pass by!
Small channels had been carved out of the reef to allow us to swim out into the deeper waters without having to come into contact with the coral. The purpose of this was two-fold - Firstly to prevent us from damaging the fragile coral with our western clumsyness and our disregard for nature, but also as, unbeknown to me, getting cut by coral hurts... ALOT, bleeds endlessly and come up in a huge allergic reaction. By the time I had realised this it was far too late, and I was to be bleeding for the rest off my time at the island, which becomes relavent later. A couple of hours, and multiple encounters with coral, angel fish arrow fish and even puffer fish later, we heard there were small (3-4 ft) blacktip sharks in some of the shallow reefs off the island. Having been assured they are safe, and partially beleiving it, we hopped in, bleeding and all to confront the graceful predators of the deep.
Firstly to our surprise they arent predators of the deep at all, these sharks were purely found in the shallow coral-filled areas, flawlessly navigating the shallow waters, which we couldnt even consider following them through without experiencing a world of coral cut related pain. Realising they were in fact scared of us, and would flee on our approach, I made a game with myself - chase the shark... whenever I saw one I would swim after it and see how long I could keep up before it either outswam me, or went into too shallow water. I even impressed myself, keeping up with it until I had to surface for breath (I dove to chase it, as I can use the flippers better underwater than on the surface). Of course there is a good chance it was purely cruising away from me effortlessly, but I prefer to put it down to my fish-like underwater agility!
We tried to play a game of finding nemo, spotting all of the characters from the film, although, perhaps ironically, we didnt see a single sea anemone or clown fish. I saw Dory, a puffer fish, a shark, and other misc fish that I recognised, but NO NEMO, or a sea turtle, which although it was a bit of a shame, I got over it very quickly whenever I realised I was snorkelling in the Indian ocean, surrounded by coral reefs. I did come across a wall of jelly-fish at one point, which was not cool, but I got far fewer stings than I would have expected, and lived to blog another day :)
We left the island very satisfied, although starving, having not realised we would have to go from 10am-5pm without food. We got back to our hotel after another bath-boat ride and a stint on the back of a pickup truck. At this point we decided to go to the 200 dollar a night hotel for their 12 pound all you can eat buffet, to restock ourselves for the next day of strenuous relaxation by the beach. I will leave this blog here, and resume at the point were we arrived for our all you can eat bonanza!
We arrived at Trincomalee (aka Trinco) at approx midday, to be greeted by 35 degree heat - the stuff that I could feel burning my fragile western skin as soon as I disembarked from the bus. We were confronted with what in my opinion was the opposite of the tropical paradise I was expecting just from the location and the stories I had been told. 80% of the shops were closed, presumably permanently after the strife the city has endured since the 2004 tsunami, and over the civil war, and bullet holes were visible on several walls around the bus stop. This should have come as no real surprise to me judging by the number of military road blocks on the road from Habarana to Trinco, and the fact that it was off limits to tourists until only 2008 (or even 2009 by some reports). Open sewers, a lack of westerners, relative hostility from the locals and many UN vehicles passing by left myself and Ben thinking, is this the right place - have we made a mistake.
We went about finding the promised accomodation from the regional Veterinary office, as we did in Newara Eliya, but after inquiring in Gvt. office after Gvt. office, came to the conclusion that such an office did not even exist in trinco, and was in a small town called Upeveli, 4km north of Trinco. A Sri Lankan bus ride, and an hour of trying to follow some atrocious napkin instructions to this office turned up nothing except a dubious looking farm, at which point we gave up, and decided to look for accommodation off our own backs in Upeveli. We looked around a few misc. establishments and were confronted with a mix of mould, insects and overt structural instability, so decided that the beach there, which the guide assured us was touristy, was the best way to find somewhere to spend our 3 nights.
We came across a small place called French gardens, which was in the guide as a cheapy, and was approx 50m from the sea. Upon seeing that it had 2 beds, a functioning shower and toilet and was only 6 pounds a night between the two of us, we were utterly sold! Sure it didnt have a sink, and the shower was just a giant pipe pointed at the floor, we had a room by the Indian ocean, in season, for 6 pounds... we still won! The beach was entirely flawless - flat, blue Indian ocean lapping at the fine, golden sands - small fishing boats perched on the scorching ground, waiting for their nighttime launch. Even the cows wandering up and down the beach couldn't spoil the ideal view and feel of the place. Any feeling that we had come to the wrong place simply vanished, and as we walked up the coastline, we discovered that there were many hotels, including a 200 dollar a night beast nestled in the small bay, just firing up their businesses after the tourist drought of the civil war.
We had a pleasent enough nights sleep, and woke up the next day ready to go to the fabled Pigeon island we had heard so much about to go snorkelling amongst the coral reefs, or what was left of them after the tsunami. after a 15 minute boat ride in what was effectively a bath tub with an outboard, we were left to our own devices with a group of french, italian and spanish tourists on this small island. The beaches of the island were oddly enough not made of sand, but purely of broken peices of coral, and coral ground down nearly as fine as normal sand, giving an eerie reminder of quite how much damage the 2004 tsunami must have done to this stretch of coast, and its ecosystem Not wanting to waste a moment, we got straight in, and snorkelled out amongst the reefs. They have recovered impressively since the tsunami, and I had the exact same panorama through my snorkel that is visible on any Animal Planet show, slowly navigating amongst the coral, seeing endless numbers of fish species pass by!
Small channels had been carved out of the reef to allow us to swim out into the deeper waters without having to come into contact with the coral. The purpose of this was two-fold - Firstly to prevent us from damaging the fragile coral with our western clumsyness and our disregard for nature, but also as, unbeknown to me, getting cut by coral hurts... ALOT, bleeds endlessly and come up in a huge allergic reaction. By the time I had realised this it was far too late, and I was to be bleeding for the rest off my time at the island, which becomes relavent later. A couple of hours, and multiple encounters with coral, angel fish arrow fish and even puffer fish later, we heard there were small (3-4 ft) blacktip sharks in some of the shallow reefs off the island. Having been assured they are safe, and partially beleiving it, we hopped in, bleeding and all to confront the graceful predators of the deep.
Firstly to our surprise they arent predators of the deep at all, these sharks were purely found in the shallow coral-filled areas, flawlessly navigating the shallow waters, which we couldnt even consider following them through without experiencing a world of coral cut related pain. Realising they were in fact scared of us, and would flee on our approach, I made a game with myself - chase the shark... whenever I saw one I would swim after it and see how long I could keep up before it either outswam me, or went into too shallow water. I even impressed myself, keeping up with it until I had to surface for breath (I dove to chase it, as I can use the flippers better underwater than on the surface). Of course there is a good chance it was purely cruising away from me effortlessly, but I prefer to put it down to my fish-like underwater agility!
We tried to play a game of finding nemo, spotting all of the characters from the film, although, perhaps ironically, we didnt see a single sea anemone or clown fish. I saw Dory, a puffer fish, a shark, and other misc fish that I recognised, but NO NEMO, or a sea turtle, which although it was a bit of a shame, I got over it very quickly whenever I realised I was snorkelling in the Indian ocean, surrounded by coral reefs. I did come across a wall of jelly-fish at one point, which was not cool, but I got far fewer stings than I would have expected, and lived to blog another day :)
We left the island very satisfied, although starving, having not realised we would have to go from 10am-5pm without food. We got back to our hotel after another bath-boat ride and a stint on the back of a pickup truck. At this point we decided to go to the 200 dollar a night hotel for their 12 pound all you can eat buffet, to restock ourselves for the next day of strenuous relaxation by the beach. I will leave this blog here, and resume at the point were we arrived for our all you can eat bonanza!
The Tea Empire Strikes Back
Ok so there was a reshuffling of events, and the visit to pinewalla was moved until hopefully sometime this week, and our Trip to Trincomale was moved to the weekend just gone (hense the extended silence on the blog). Before I start on Trinco, a couple of things happened between my last blog and Trinco which I think people might want to hear (and I certainly want to remember, this blog being primarily my diary of events in Sri Lanka)
You cant come to Sri Lanka without buying some tea... It just cant be done; after our dissapointment at Pedros in Newara Eliya we thought about trying to purchase some tea closer to home (well Kandy). We decided that the tea plantation that we visited on our 3 temples route was a good place to try and get reasonable priced tea, without paying the tea dealers cut - and obviously getting tea directly from the factory is pretty dam awesome. We started off walking towards the factory when all of a sudden we came accross a building with the standard, kind of flat-pack tea factory appearence. We had a closer look and discovered an abandonned, degrading factory, with the original machinery slowly rusting in the buildings shell.
Unexpectadly a figure emerged from behind the machinery claiming that he owned the factory and that we should come and have a look around. Now, at this point all kinds of alarm bells were chiming... probably rightly so, but we still decided to go into the crumbling factory to speak to the mysterious shaddow man - he was wearing a shirt... he has to be legitimate, right? It turns out he was the owner of a 150 hectare tea estate near Matale, and had just purchased the factory as the gvt. was no longer allowing the construction of new factories. In two months he hoped to process his leaves at this factory instead of selling them on for processing. Here is where our lie began... we told him we were interested in importing large quantities of Tea into the UK, to which his ears pricked up, and he offered to send us free samples of his tea for market research (receipt pending).
With this fantastic lie in tow, we moved on to the functional factory, and sat in the factory office talking to the manager about the prospect of import. He was talking in terms of containers per month, reduced rates for orders of over 48,000kg, at which point we changed tact to samples for market research and got 4 250g samples (2g is enough for a cup of tea) for 500 rupees, 3 pounds. We did the standard procedure of exchanging email addresses and left the factory highly satisfied with our acheivement, and in awe of our improv. acting abilities :)
The next day, and final day before Trinco went relatively standardly until the early evening when we went into Kandy, and discovered behind the tooth temple lay a British Garrison Cemetary. Myself, Ben, and the french girl who we saved from overpriced hotel tyranny (Sophie) were the only three visiters to that Cemetary all day, although it was to me more impressive than many of the temples we have visited. It was renovated from its vandelised state for a visit from Prince Charles in 1998, which sadly could not happen due to the bomb outside the temple of the tooth in that year. However, it was beutifully preserved, save the foot (/hoof?) prints of wild boar which have sullied some of the graves. Being shown around the site by its sole, unpaid proprietor was an experience in its own right, and hearing of the lives of the people in the graves, including the young man killed "by elephant" was incredible, and overshaddowed even the baby elephants visible from the corner of the site.
We were more than happy, for once, to donate money to the continued maintenance of the grounds.
From then we relaxed over dinner, and watched a film, before packing for the trip to Trincomale, a place that was devestated by the 2004 tsunami, and until 2008 was out of bounds to tourists due to the civil war - It does however have an awesome beach :) x
You cant come to Sri Lanka without buying some tea... It just cant be done; after our dissapointment at Pedros in Newara Eliya we thought about trying to purchase some tea closer to home (well Kandy). We decided that the tea plantation that we visited on our 3 temples route was a good place to try and get reasonable priced tea, without paying the tea dealers cut - and obviously getting tea directly from the factory is pretty dam awesome. We started off walking towards the factory when all of a sudden we came accross a building with the standard, kind of flat-pack tea factory appearence. We had a closer look and discovered an abandonned, degrading factory, with the original machinery slowly rusting in the buildings shell.
Unexpectadly a figure emerged from behind the machinery claiming that he owned the factory and that we should come and have a look around. Now, at this point all kinds of alarm bells were chiming... probably rightly so, but we still decided to go into the crumbling factory to speak to the mysterious shaddow man - he was wearing a shirt... he has to be legitimate, right? It turns out he was the owner of a 150 hectare tea estate near Matale, and had just purchased the factory as the gvt. was no longer allowing the construction of new factories. In two months he hoped to process his leaves at this factory instead of selling them on for processing. Here is where our lie began... we told him we were interested in importing large quantities of Tea into the UK, to which his ears pricked up, and he offered to send us free samples of his tea for market research (receipt pending).
With this fantastic lie in tow, we moved on to the functional factory, and sat in the factory office talking to the manager about the prospect of import. He was talking in terms of containers per month, reduced rates for orders of over 48,000kg, at which point we changed tact to samples for market research and got 4 250g samples (2g is enough for a cup of tea) for 500 rupees, 3 pounds. We did the standard procedure of exchanging email addresses and left the factory highly satisfied with our acheivement, and in awe of our improv. acting abilities :)
The next day, and final day before Trinco went relatively standardly until the early evening when we went into Kandy, and discovered behind the tooth temple lay a British Garrison Cemetary. Myself, Ben, and the french girl who we saved from overpriced hotel tyranny (Sophie) were the only three visiters to that Cemetary all day, although it was to me more impressive than many of the temples we have visited. It was renovated from its vandelised state for a visit from Prince Charles in 1998, which sadly could not happen due to the bomb outside the temple of the tooth in that year. However, it was beutifully preserved, save the foot (/hoof?) prints of wild boar which have sullied some of the graves. Being shown around the site by its sole, unpaid proprietor was an experience in its own right, and hearing of the lives of the people in the graves, including the young man killed "by elephant" was incredible, and overshaddowed even the baby elephants visible from the corner of the site.
We were more than happy, for once, to donate money to the continued maintenance of the grounds.
From then we relaxed over dinner, and watched a film, before packing for the trip to Trincomale, a place that was devestated by the 2004 tsunami, and until 2008 was out of bounds to tourists due to the civil war - It does however have an awesome beach :) x
Tuesday 3 August 2010
Don't vote for Pedro
They say that for every 100m you climb vertically, the temperature drops 1 degree C. N Eliya is at 2100m above sea level, wheras Kandy is 600m, so on face value you would expect it to be actually rather chilly up there, as 30 degrees in Kandy turns to 15 degrees midday temperature. Despite all of this hint, I valiently decided that as its Sri Lanka, it can never be cold, and thus I packed a T-shirt and a pair of shorts in my spare clothes before we set off for the Station.
The long grueling climb from Peradiniya station to Nu-oya (the closest station to N Eliya) takes 4 hours on a good day (and that day was evidently not a good day), but we didn't mind this as train journeys are, as I have explained an experience in their own right! As we progressed along the slow ascent, the scenery progressed from the tropical palms and broad-leaved plants of lower areas, passing through coniferous woodland with occasional plains to scrubby moorland above the timberline. Tea plantations were dispersed throughout the experience, covering swathes of countryside, with small tea processing factory's with their workers accommodation scattered amongst them.
When we arrived finally in Nuwara Eliya, surreal doesnt really cover it. British architecture, golf courses, fields of carrots and even a race course greeted our entry to the town, and along with the temperate grasses, stinging nettles and drizzle I felt almost at home! Sure the centre of the racecourse was a landfill, the pavements were collapsing in on themselves and the buildings all had tin rooves, but that was just the gentle reminder that I was in fact still in Sri Lanka, and not in a quiet town in the Dales.
We wandered around the lake to find our accomodation at the regional Veterinary office, and on the word of the Guide, set off for Pedros Tea Factory, which was perportedly open until 6pm, and offered free tours. We arrived, to be greeted by a tourist fee for a tour of a factory that wasnt working that day as there were no leaves, and closed in 10 minutes (we arrived at 10 to 5!). They promptly tried to sell us tea at a price that is twice what we know we can pay for it in Kandy... all in all Pedro wasn't quite as happy-making as we may have hoped.
To quench this dissapointment we felt a trip to a pub was in order, so we went to the "locals" pub, which we beleived would be the cheaper option than the obviously touristy place up the road. We had some fantastic 9% beer, and 40p double shots of Arrack (coconut whisky), and just after I saw the dead rat floating in urine in the loos, decided to check out the more touristy pub. That pub was signinficantly cheaper than the rat-urine pub, which made us sad, along with the fact that we were already significantly drunk at 8pm. All memory's point to us making it back to the accomodation, with only minor blood wounds suffered by Ben in the 5km journey at about 10:30pm at which point we collapsed for a nights sleep.
Here is where the "chilly" in Nuwara Eliya had its pinch... lieing there, shivering wrapped in a blanket fully clothed I was not impressed... and was forced to eat my words that it would secretly actually still be warm up there. We woke up to a rolling mist, chilly winds, and a very datrtmooresque temperature, and to top it off, we both had caught gastroenteritis from some dodgy rice and curry the night before. Hugely disenfranchised by the whole experience, we decided to bin the rest of the plans for Nuwara Eliya, dose up on Imodium, and take the 2 hour bus back to Kandy, where I actually feel like I'm near the equator!
So here I am, back in Kandy, nicely warm, and with my Gastrointestinal fail recovering, having just watched a few films. However, people here seem to have caught onto where we are living, as today, despite the fact that we live a long way up a dead end hill, several beggars came directly to our bedroom window and started knocking on the windows asking for money... I was not impressed - If a mans home is his castle, I need a moat! Anyway, am now about to go and do alot of sleeping, followed hopefully by a trip to the elephant orphanage later this week with the Tranquilizer team... what could possibly go wrong :) xx
The long grueling climb from Peradiniya station to Nu-oya (the closest station to N Eliya) takes 4 hours on a good day (and that day was evidently not a good day), but we didn't mind this as train journeys are, as I have explained an experience in their own right! As we progressed along the slow ascent, the scenery progressed from the tropical palms and broad-leaved plants of lower areas, passing through coniferous woodland with occasional plains to scrubby moorland above the timberline. Tea plantations were dispersed throughout the experience, covering swathes of countryside, with small tea processing factory's with their workers accommodation scattered amongst them.
When we arrived finally in Nuwara Eliya, surreal doesnt really cover it. British architecture, golf courses, fields of carrots and even a race course greeted our entry to the town, and along with the temperate grasses, stinging nettles and drizzle I felt almost at home! Sure the centre of the racecourse was a landfill, the pavements were collapsing in on themselves and the buildings all had tin rooves, but that was just the gentle reminder that I was in fact still in Sri Lanka, and not in a quiet town in the Dales.
We wandered around the lake to find our accomodation at the regional Veterinary office, and on the word of the Guide, set off for Pedros Tea Factory, which was perportedly open until 6pm, and offered free tours. We arrived, to be greeted by a tourist fee for a tour of a factory that wasnt working that day as there were no leaves, and closed in 10 minutes (we arrived at 10 to 5!). They promptly tried to sell us tea at a price that is twice what we know we can pay for it in Kandy... all in all Pedro wasn't quite as happy-making as we may have hoped.
To quench this dissapointment we felt a trip to a pub was in order, so we went to the "locals" pub, which we beleived would be the cheaper option than the obviously touristy place up the road. We had some fantastic 9% beer, and 40p double shots of Arrack (coconut whisky), and just after I saw the dead rat floating in urine in the loos, decided to check out the more touristy pub. That pub was signinficantly cheaper than the rat-urine pub, which made us sad, along with the fact that we were already significantly drunk at 8pm. All memory's point to us making it back to the accomodation, with only minor blood wounds suffered by Ben in the 5km journey at about 10:30pm at which point we collapsed for a nights sleep.
Here is where the "chilly" in Nuwara Eliya had its pinch... lieing there, shivering wrapped in a blanket fully clothed I was not impressed... and was forced to eat my words that it would secretly actually still be warm up there. We woke up to a rolling mist, chilly winds, and a very datrtmooresque temperature, and to top it off, we both had caught gastroenteritis from some dodgy rice and curry the night before. Hugely disenfranchised by the whole experience, we decided to bin the rest of the plans for Nuwara Eliya, dose up on Imodium, and take the 2 hour bus back to Kandy, where I actually feel like I'm near the equator!
So here I am, back in Kandy, nicely warm, and with my Gastrointestinal fail recovering, having just watched a few films. However, people here seem to have caught onto where we are living, as today, despite the fact that we live a long way up a dead end hill, several beggars came directly to our bedroom window and started knocking on the windows asking for money... I was not impressed - If a mans home is his castle, I need a moat! Anyway, am now about to go and do alot of sleeping, followed hopefully by a trip to the elephant orphanage later this week with the Tranquilizer team... what could possibly go wrong :) xx
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