Keen Blog – Sri Lanka

We are on our travels again. It has been a while.....for us anyway.  This trip has been in the diary for a long time, but the day arrives and it is even more special to be heading off to warmer climes with a couple of inches of snow at Three Maples. Sian will watch the house.

I am early into this blog.  We are at Doha airport (Qatar) with several hours of journey still ahead of us. The scrabble tournament has kicked off and I have got in early with a 7-letter.  It is 4am so thats not bad.  Beesting. Thought that might be 2 words but no. 

Doha airport is smart and spacious.  But the Wi-Fi is poor.  I am a Wi-Fi bore on holidays.

Another 5 hours from Doha and we arrive at Colombo. When we eventually get to the head of the immigration queue the official asks us "Where are your visas?".  Mrs K and I look at each other.  Neither can remember whether we even checked if we needed one. Well you do. Fortunately there is another queue we can join.  It takes 5 minutes to wait in line, 30 seconds for the visa to be issued and then 10 minutes to play. The visas cost $40 each. “Cash?”.  “No, card please”, I say. “Pay in US Dollars or Sterling?” “Oh, OK we will pay in Sterling”, I said. “That we will be £70” ,the cashier says with a hint of a smile. My mental maths is not as good as it was but that is obviously not right. We pay in Dollars and my new Revolut credit card instantly tells me we paid £61. Better be ready for more negotiating on this trip.

We exit the terminal building looking for our driver. There are about 100 guys all fighting to make their name board visible to us. Mrs K and I are standing there, with a 100 pair of eyes on us.  Bit like Posh & Becks in front of paparazzi. We are desperately looking for KEEN amongst the waving boards. I see our guy at the back holding up JEFF. He and I are already on first name terms except that I can’t pronounce his name so I’ll call him Raj.  Once we have established I am the Jeff and he has shown me my email address on the cracked screen of his phone, he is calling for his co-driver to bring the car. Two drivers?  Perhaps they heard about the Qatar airways 30kg weight allowance and Mrs K's extensive luggage?

The drive is 2 and a half hours, mostly by highway after we have got past the congestion in Colombo. In Weligama there are small streets with cars, coaches, bikes, motorbikes and tuk-tuks all fighting for space.  When we get to the hotel it is tallest building that we have seen in 150km since Colombo.  There are about a dozen floors.  We are on the 8^th.  Every room is sea facing and looks onto the best beach in Sri Lanka, according to the guy on the front desk.  We are upgraded but I am not sure if that just means we are moved to a higher floor. But our room is stunning and we can’t wait for sunrise.  Sadly we are only here for 8 nights.  First things first, we find a TV channel with Chelsea vs. Huddersfield and within 5 minutes Higuain has scored his first goal for the club.  The feel good factor is building.

We are up early next morning despite the 5 ½ hours’ time difference, both having slept really well. The sun is fighting through the curtains and to be honest the kid next door who keeps slamming the door also helps to wake us at 7.30am.  The surfers are already out.  We head down for yoga on the hotel lawn at 8.  The setting is idyllic. The lawn is still sticky with dew and the sun is coming up between the palm trees with the sound of waves crashing in the background.  As usual I am the dunce of the class, needing help with most of the poses and I seem to be breaking the rule that yoga should never hurt.  Just sitting crossed legged is difficult.  I have to draw a line at the chanting.  Let’s just saying I was resistant to ‘ohms’.

After a day of relaxing near the pool we set off on our first adventure into Mirissa in the evening.  We exit the hotel and take a tuk-tuk along the coast – about 5km.  We are dropped off at an unlikely spot – just a gap in the wall to what looks like the back of a restaurant.  There a few dogs having a fight.  But we walk through and find ourselves on Mirissa beach.  It is just warming up for the evening.  The bars are starting to belt out music and the restaurants are touting their various offerings of seafood to passing tourists.  We find a quieter place and are urged to take a table on the sand.  While we are perusing the menu, it starts to get a bit windy and chilly.  It feels like rain.  We move to a table with a large umbrella and within a couple of minutes the heavens open.  The power goes off in the restaurant (not for the first time).  People are running along the beach.  But the surfers carry on regardless.  In all the confusion a solitary langoustine escapes from the table of seafood and is making a dash for freedom across the sand to the waves.  Unfortunately he is spotted by a passing tourist and a waiter runs after him and returns him to the table.  It’s tough for sea life out here.

Next morning we are up early to see a different variety of sea life.  Our breakfast arrives at the room at 6.30am as we need to leave early.  It is a feast on a breakfast trolley.  Fresh smoothies, chocolate croissants, yoghurt, scrambled egg on toast, sausages, mushrooms, hash browns, coffee and a huge plate of fruit each.  All for £4.  Mrs K thinks it must be a mistake.  Our driver is in reception waiting for us.  It is a short drive to the air force base where we will meet our pilot who is taking us up on a short flight to try to spot some whales.  Mrs K and I had thought that we might be better to see them up close from a boat but we are persuaded to take the flight instead.  First, Mrs K does not like boats and second from the air you can see the whole whale and not just the part that is above the water line.  At the gate to the air force base, it is high security.  Our passports are checked and we are transferred to another vehicle to take us the last few hundred metres to the building next to a lake.  As we enter there is a sign saying “Only smart golf attire allowed”.  I tuck in my t-shirt.  The building doubles as a golf clubhouse.  There is a green beside the lake.  It would be inadvisable to go looking for golf balls that have overshot the green because the lake has crocodiles, one of which comes up to take a look at us as we wait for our pilot.  The pilot arrives.  Mrs K approves of his white shirt and fancy lapels.  We are shown to the plane which is a tiny 4 seater.  Pilot and trainee pilot in the front and us in the back.

Mrs K gets a bit worried that we start down the runway with the pilot’s door still open but I think that was his way of leaving the aircon on for as long as possible.  After a bumpy run down the runway, we are in the air and over the sea.  The pilots head a few miles out to where we find a flotilla of whale watching boats, each packed with tourists.  The pilot explains the boats are both a blessing and a curse.  They help to spot the whales but the speed boats tend to scare the whales away too.  We are lucky and see a few whales, though none for more than a few seconds.  I can’t imagine anyone saw much from the boats. But it was a special experience and we get to see the coastline too.

Scrabble is 2-0

More later.

Jeff

Part 2

Having posted blog part 1 and secured tickets for the Carabao Cup final I join Mrs K by the pool thinking I am ready for my first holiday cocktail. "I'm sorry sir, today is dry", says the waiter.  "What do you mean?", I ask.  "This is a Government law. No alcohol".  I immediately form a dislike of the Sri Lankan government. It is Independence Day and like other bank holidays (Poya days) you can't consume alcohol in public or buy meat or fish in shops.  I am rarely shocked.

We are joined on the hotel lawn by other sun worshippers

On Sunday we had planned to have a massage in the hotel spa but there was a mix up with our reservation (not my fault!) so we now have 2 sessions booked. First is Monday.  Mine is traditional, Mrs K's is shall we say...extensive.  She is a bit hysterical as we drink our ginger tea afterwards.  I decide I need to have one of those next time.

The manager on the front desk is full of apologies for the booking error and not for the first time she says to me, if there is anything...anything...she can do to make our stay enjoyable just let her know. I am told off by Mrs K for thinking it.  Later a gift is sent to our room - 3 apples.

On Tuesday we take the drive to Galle to visit the ancient fort which is a walled city.  The Test cricket ground is just outside the city, all rebuilt since the 2004 tsunami, but not quite Lords. 

We meet our guide, Chirath de Silva at the English Gate.  Chirath lives inside the city with his family and is the 3^rd generation living here.  His surname originates from the Portuguese who were here in the 1500s.  The Portuguese got rid of the Arabs but then the Dutch got rid of the Portuguese.  Then the Brits arrived and apparently there was a swap of territories with the Dutch but the main purpose was to prevent the coastal areas falling into the hands of the French.  We love the French. Sri Lanka is about the size of England.  The King and most of the native population retreated to the middle of the island (Kandy) where they were beyond the reach of the various invaders.  Only later did the British find that the uplands were suitable for tea plantations (more on that later). 

Chirath takes us on a walking tour of the city, giving us a detailed account of its history.  Chirath knows everything about the city and its people and tells us most of it over the course of the next 3 hours.  The city has been a UNESCO site since 1988 and any changes to buildings, internal or external, have to be approved.  However, I am not sure they up to the standards of some English parish councils by the look of it.

On the sea wall there is a guy who dives into the sea for cash.  He calls himself The Crazy Jumper and he looks a bit crazy too.

You can watch him here   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fb79oHD9PeU

Chirath shows us some of the property in Galle.  Some small houses fetch prices not dissimilar to London.  This is a prime spot for tourism.

We also visit a Buddhist temple which is one of 4 places of worship in the city. Chirath tells us with a sombre face that Sri Lankan Buddhism is very different to the Buddhism practiced in Thailand or Japan. Monks here have to give up a normal life and spend their lives in the monastery. We meet a monk and he gives us a blessing. We have to kneel in front of him while he breaks off a bit of old string from a long length and ties it round our wrist while chanting a blessing. I try not to be disrespectful but I had to draw a line at bowing to the floor like Chirath. So how long do I have to keep the string on without offending the Buddhist monks?

The tour ends at Chirath’s café which is run by his wife  http://nationaltearoom.lk/

If you ever visit Galle, make sure you stop by his café which is the oldest in Galle fort.

He was a nice guy.  The people here are incredibly friendly.

We might have stepped into his café for a bite to eat but we are booked in at the Amangalla hotel which is round the corner and said to be the oldest hotel in Sri Lanka.  It is like going back in time except that the prices are very much today’s UK prices.  The hotel was previously the Dutch Governor’s house in the 1700s. We enjoy a special Sri Lankan meal there. After coffees, our waiter gets a surprise. Mrs K says, “I’ve read that your scones are the best in Sri Lanka, can I have one?”. I bet he’s never been asked that before at the end of a meal. He scuttles off to the kitchen with a slightly worried look but returns a few minutes later with a scone with cream and jam. On the house naturally. Mrs K says it was nice but maybe not the best she has tasted. But can you really appreciate it after a full meal?

It is a 45 minute drive back to Weligama but Chirath has organised one of his mates to drive us back in his taxi. It soon becomes clear that our taxi driver is just a mate of the mate. In fact, he is at pains to tell us he is not a taxi driver, his main business is textiles, making uniforms for Government. And his driving is erratic. He feels the need to keep the conversation going for the whole journey back. I opt out and go to sleep but Mrs K cannot help but soldier on. She hears all about his sister in Texas and the details of his business. He gives Mrs K his card but after he tried to charge us more than was agreed, it is quickly disposed of.

On Wednesday it’s another quite early start.  We leave the hotel at 8.30am to visit the Wilahena Tea Plantation.   Again we have arranged a guide.  His name is Dilip.  Surprisingly we are the only visitors for the day – they keep numbers to a minimum. We are very special guests. This plantation is relatively small (25 acres).  Smaller size plots originate from the time when the government stopped landowners owning parcels of land greater than 100 acres. It is a good size to walk round and get to understand more about the whole process of growing tea.  Mrs K asks the natural science questions, I ask the business questions.

We meet some of the labourers who get paid about £10 per day but all look incredibly happy in their work.  They have to fill a sack with leaves in a day – about 7kg worth.  Dilip says it is not easy nowadays to get the labourers to work for that money.  From what Dilip told us, I reckon about 50 workers collect leaves here but the factory is quite substantial so they bring in leaves from local gardens and other plantations.  The factory runs 24x7.

We go into the factory.  Here again I notice that all the workers are women.  The men seem to be ‘supervising’.  We go into the drying room where the temperature is 130F (=54C).  Just a couple of elderly ladies in here loading the machines with boxes of leaves.  Not a supervisor in sight.  We are only in there for a couple of minutes and the sweat is literally rolling off me.  

We end up in the shop where we sample some of the produce and buy a box for home. If you are interested I uploaded a 4 minute video of the tea plantation onto youtube https://youtu.be/YOV0Isu6v_E

We have a quiet night in the hotel restaurant where we continue the job of people watching. Lots of Asians, some Canadians, a crowd from Sweden and one Russian couple who we seem to keep bumping into. He is about 40 trying to look 30 and his companion is about 18. Mrs K doesn’t approve. We also note that many people don’t seem to know how to keep their kids under control. It’s been a long time since our family was the loudest one in the restaurant.

At least one more excursion to come and maybe a surf lesson if I can keep Mrs K to her word.

Scrabble is 3-1, to me of course

Part 3

Mrs K finally cracked and we head down for a surfing lesson. Our man Kingsley reassures us that most of the people out there in the surf are first-timers. Some of them can't even swim.  The waves look a lot bigger down here than they did from our balcony on the 8th floor.  Kingsley demonstrates the basics on the sand.  "Just relax and get your balance, Sir".  Every sentence has Sir on the end.  Given that I can’t even balance on one leg with my eyes shut this is going to be tricky.  I also wish I had been better at some of those yoga poses.  Kingsley asks Mrs K if she has ever skied or skated before.  No.  “OK, don’t worry, its just like riding a bike”.  Er, Mrs K doesn’t ride a bike either.  Not without putting herself and others in danger anyway.  [I did buy Mrs K cycling lessons as a Xmas present but it went down like a lead balloon].  But Mrs K does really well.  We are both good at surfing on our knees but standing up is another matter. Mrs K says that Kingsley saw much more than he probably bargained for as her swimsuit gets pulled around by the surf.  All on video…..but censored.  I go back for a second session (solo) later but only then realise how much Kingsley was helping us earlier.  I also struggle with severe nipple chafing.  I wanted to show you a photo but Mrs K said no.

These are my best action shots.

Apart from nipple chafing, there are other things to contend with on a daily basis.  Every time a new guest arrives at the hotel a chap starts going on the drums in the foyer – it really interferes with snoozing by the pool.  I also find the 5 ½ time difference annoying – much harder to work out what time it is in the UK.  We continue to find ourselves next to the Russian couple  but still haven’t exchanged a word.  The Executive Chef is a regular visitor to our table now as he does his rounds each evening.  He told us he trained in Exeter.  Mrs K is working up the courage to tell him she doesn’t like his juicing machine.  We have also had to contend with a few rain showers! So you see things are not plain sailing here!

It’s our last day at the hotel.  Almost every day we have had a note pushed under our door from the management.  Yesterday’s was to let us know there would be a wedding on the beach in front of the hotel on Saturday.  Last night they had a party on the rooftop but it didn’t disturb us.  As I write, I am watching a small army of hotel staff make preparations in the giant awning and the stage, chairs and statue of Ganesh are all ready on the sand.  There is a guy testing a drone.  I just hope they keep the noise down.

Yesterday we visited another plantation – this time cinnamon.  Our driver takes us up into the hills (or uplands) and along some narrow tracks.  I am wondering if he really knows his way as he seems to hesitate at each turn.  We set off up a really steep hill (maybe 1 in 4 slope) and eventually we reach the gates of the plantation – The Gradely Estate.  The hotel concierge told us it was a 400m walk at the plantation so suggested we go in late afternoon.  What he didn’t explain was that it was 400m vertical, up the hill.  Our car stops inside the gate because the gradient is too steep, so our guide takes us on foot.  There is another couple with us – from Jordan.  The poor girl is wrapped up and 4 months pregnant but doesn’t complain.  We are looking out for wild animals which roam the estate – wild boar, porcupines, mongoose and the odd cobra. 

We visited the ‘factory’ which is a like a shed but which houses the boiler from which they make leaf oil and bark oil as well as being storage for the peeled cinnamon quills.  Further up the hill we reach a mud hut where we are given a demonstration of how the peeling is done and then try some tea.  Mrs K gets carried away and we now have enough tea to keep us going for the next 10 years.  She said it is revenge for my not taking her to a gem store.

When we return to the hotel the drums are going, seemingly to welcome us back, but there is actually a show going on in foyer.  We are treated to some Sri Lankan dance moves.

Last night we were invited for drinks by the hotel general manager.  He is a colourful character by the name of Elton, an Indian catholic.  He originally trained as a chef in London. “I know all the Indian Michelin star chefs”, he says.  We meet our friend the executive chef again (Sandeep) and we are introduced to Frederic who we assume is a guest but turns out to be a local restauranteur.  “This guy is a billionaire!”, says Elton.  Frederic is embarrassed.  I am not sure if he is a Dollar billionaire, a Rupee billionaire or not one at all.  I am asked what I do.  I give my standard response -  “Finance”.  It normally stops further enquiry.  And what about Mrs K?  “I  look after him”, she says.

Frederic tells us he lived and worked in India for 20 years but when he visited Sri Lanka for the first time 2 years ago he liked it so much he moved here.  He described Sri Lanka as a ‘soft India’. Based on our limited experience, that seems about right.  Soon, Frederic has to go back to his restaurant and we have dinner reservations in the excellent hotel fish restaurant ‘Big Fish’.  Elton gives us his card and says when we come back to Sri Lanka he will recommend an itinerary for us.  He says we are a beautiful couple.  Bet he’s used that line a few times.  I tell Frederic we might visit his restaurant on Saturday evening. 

The wedding is kicking off.  The groom and his entourage are on the beach in 30C sun.  They must be melting.  If I were them I would be wondering where the f**k the bride is.  But here she comes, somewhat reluctant it seems, being nudged forward by her escorts.  There is a guy on what sounds like a gazoo and the drums keep going.  Hotel guests are fascinated (including me to be fair) but you can always trust an Asian woman to insert herself between the bride and the camera.  Just no manners.  I think I heard a west London accent in the bridal group, probably Southall (close to where we grew up) – that’s Southall with 2 ‘f’’s.

I can honestly say that is the nicest week I have spent in one hotel anywhere in the world.  Normally when I have visited a country I would say that I wouldn’t come back, if only because there are so many other places to visit.  But in this instance, I would definitely return and tour around the island, hopefully with more time.  I would highly recommend Sri Lanka.

We went to Frederic’s place and tasted his street food.  Really good.  If you are here, look out for Bangkok Kitchen.

This is us signing off.  Thanks for reading.

Jeff