Three weeks in Sri Lanka (Part 4)

Read the third part here.

Flying to the South (02.11.)

You think you’ve had funny airport experiences? Strap in; this one hits different.

If you remember from the previous post, we had arranged our flight only days ago. We had to specify a lot of details, including total weight of our group (which includes us and our luggage). But there was an additional difficulty: Given that the airport was actually an air force base, you couldn’t just walk there, nor could you use a tuktuk. The airline insisted on a regular car and asked for license plate, driver identity card, and so on.

Our homestay hosts tried to be helpful and arranged a driver for us. However, the price was at least ten times of what was appropriate for a five-minute drive. So, we asked the airline, and they agreed we would take a tuktuk to drop us off at the perimeter, and then walk the remainder to the “terminal”.

On the day of the flight, which was scheduled to depart around noon, I was anxious the entire morning. Will everything work out? Will the tuktuk driver find the entrance gate? What time will we have to show up?

At least we could sleep in and enjoy a nice Sri Lankan breakfast. The tuktuk driver arrived about half an hour earlier than expected, but was very confused, because he thought we would go to Colombo airport. That would be a four-hour drive; perhaps this explains the gross price mismatch with the other driver. A few locals came by and explained that we only needed to go to the air force base; that appeared to have cleared it up.

We arrived at the entrance gate 90 minutes prior to the scheduled departure. We couldn’t go in yet, but provided all the paperwork to the military police guarding the base.

As we were waiting, I received a phone call from the tuktuk driver who was supposed to pick us up: He couldn’t find us. Curious, since we were already at the airport. Then who exactly brought us there? I still don’t have the answer to that question.¹

Anyhoo. At some point, the cops were happy with our documents and let us in. However, since the ground handler hadn’t arrived yet, we were asked to sit down, i.e., we just managed to progress a few steps. We hung out there for a bit and were fed some peanuts by the soldiers. They also sniped the monkeys trying to open our backpacks (with stones).

A bit later, the ground handler arrived on motorbike. He explained to us that walking to the “terminal” is in fact forbidden and that we had to go there motorised. Without hesitation, he picked up Vivi and our big backpack, and off he went. I was supposed to wait for him to come back. I used the time to eat more peanuts and ponder how to get our suitcase there.

Before I could contemplate too much, a hotel shuttle showed up. The driver got off, showed his paperwork (just like we did earlier), and then asked me if I needed a lift. Well, that solved the suitcase problem. We talked a little on the long and arduous ride (it took about a minute): He was picking up passengers from the flight that is just coming in from Colombo to bring them to the airline’s own hotel near Sigiriya.

Reunited with Vivi, the handler asked us into the “terminal”, which was basically a small shack next to the runway. He weighed the luggage (not us, though), hand-wrote the manifest, and gave us some instructions for boarding the plane. Basically, the plane would be coming in hot, the passengers from Colombo would deboard, and—without turning off the engines—we would board and depart. The turnaround time was going to be less than five minutes.

As we waited for those events to unfold, I realised that we would arrive much earlier in Mirissa than expected.

Originally, we had booked a flight from Sigiriya to Hambantota, which is one leg. Then, I called the airline and changed it to Koggala, which is a second leg from Hambantota.

But you see, we were the only passengers on that flight. And nobody had booked only the leg from Hambantota. So it made no sense for the plane to land there. This meant that the airline changed the flight plan on the spot to go directly to Koggala.

However, I also had to tell our hotel’s driver what time we would have to be picked up in Koggala. More logistics for me to mull over. Fortunately, a little tip to the ground handler² greased the wheels, and he called the hotel to update them on our whereabouts. I also chatted a bit with him: He handles one arrival and one departure, for a total of about one hour a day. Interesting job.

The plane arrived on time from Colombo and the clock started ticking. Eight passengers deplaned and the ground agent unloaded their luggage. We got on the plane and received the shortest safety briefing in the history of aviation: Here’s the medical kit, here’s the fire extinguisher, vests below your sets, only exit is where you just got in, have a safe flight!

The two crew got the Cessna 208 Grand Caravan off the ground and crusing at around 8500 feet.³

Needless to say, the unexpectedly private flight was super exciting. It got bumpy every time we flew through a cloud, but that didn’t bother us much. For much of the flight, we had perfect visibility, for example of the two rocks we just climbed the day before. We took a lot of photos and videos (as did the first officer).

Our destination airport Koggala is also an air force base. It is situated directly next to a lagoon, which is sometimes used for landing; Cinnamon Air also has a seaplane.⁴ The base doesn’t just double as a civilian airstrip, it also triples as a golf course. As we exited the plane, we were being ushered into the golf club and waited for our driver there.

Start	Sigiriya
End	Koggala
Flight number	C7 9303
Departure (scheduled)	11:45
Arrival (scheduled)	13:45
Cabin class	Economy

Unwinding in Mirissa (02.11.—05.11.)

The rest of the day was smooth sailing. We got picked up by the hotel’s owner and drove around half an hour to Mirissa. We dropped our stuff and made our way to the beach, sat down in a restaurant, and simply enjoyed life.

As the waves were quite big, we walked along the beach to find a natural pool.⁵ We found a nice spot to swim and/or lay down and continued enjoying life. (Together with a dog, who laid down next to us.)

The next day, we took the bus to Mirissa centre for another beach session. Much has been written about the experience, so I won’t repeat it all here. Briefly: buses are competing for guests, so they are driving fast; fares are cheap; you shouldn’t have a tendency to get seasick.

The water was beautiful on that day, so we immediately looked for some loungers and proceeded enjoying life. I went out and splurged to get my second massage this trip, while my wife was slurping king coconuts. Even though we spent the most time in the shades, we got badly sunburnt by afternoon. We decided to return to the hotel and tend to our skin.

On our last day in Mirissa, I wanted to go whale watching. (Vivi instead opted to chill in a café.)

I got picked up early in the morning by a tuktuk and was brought to the harbour. Together with about ten other people, we got on a boat and ended up spending more than four hours on the water. And as we already experienced at the beach, the Indean Ocean is rough. I was surprised by how well I held it together, but even more surprised how the crew managed to cook breakfast.

The tour was worth it, though: we saw sea turtles, dolphins, and false killer whales (the latter of which I didn’t even know existed).

We joined again for lunch at the beach, avoiding the sun like vampires. Since we didn’t have any plans for the afternoon, we spent the time gift shopping and even bought a nice painting.⁶

Back when we were in Ella, we had been craving some familiar food and opted to eat burgers and fries. Now, the pendulum had swung back to local food, so we went to a buffet-style dinner. It was a cute artsy place that was frequented by local and Indian tourists. As usual, I used the opportunity to chat and exchange travel suggestions.

The bus back to our hotel was challenging, given that we also went for the happy hour.

Onwards to Galle! We were planning to take a local train after breakfast. As opposed to our other (longer distance) train rides, that one did not have any reserved cars, so we were just going to buy tickets at the station.

That was harder than anticipated: The station master refused to sell us tickets because it wasn’t clear whether the train would even come (engine failure was mentioned). We waited and asked a few times, at which point I believe the station master got annoyed with us.

In the end, the delay wasn’t too bad; we were allowed to buy tickets and board the train. The train passed by the airfield where we arrived, and—lo and behold—we could actually see some golfers swinging balls across the runway.

Start	Kamburugamuwa
End	Galle
Train number	8085
Departure (scheduled)	09:47
Arrival (scheduled)	10:29
Seat class	Second class

Exploring Galle (05.11.—06.11.)

We arrived a little after 11 in Galle. Luckily, our host already let us in; we had a huge apartment just for us.

Since we were only staying one night, we went straight to the fort. By chance, we stumbled into a book festival with many booths and activities. It appears that English-speaking young adult fiction is also taking off in Sri Lanka. Vivi found plenty of books she had already read (or are on her reading list).

We spent the entire afternoon in the fort, walking around, going to galleries, drinking coffee, visiting museums, checking out boutiques, and other touristy fare.

To watch the sunset, we went to the Western side of the rampart. Naturally, Vivi had to climb down to get a better view; other tourists took pictures of that, although I’m not sure whether they were astonished or amused. Sadly, it was windy and rainy, so we couldn’t see much. But it gaves us a convenient excuse to seek refuge in a restaurant.

I insisted going to a Neapolitan place, just for the fun of it. My wife opined that it is a stupid idea, but the quality of the pizza placated her concerns.⁷ You may indeed fascinate a woman by giving her cheese.

As we slowly walked back towards our apartment, we stopped by a café with live music, and carried on with enjoying life.

The next day, we took an early train to Colombo. That one we had already booked while still in Batticaloa, so we snatched good tickets.

Our apartment was directly next to the train station. We arrived around 7 in the morning and immediately got ourselves breakfast samosas at the station canteen.

The train was very comfortable—I’d wager the most modern one we took during our trip—except for the air-con being set to negative 3000 degrees We had to pull out our jackets to not freeze to death. As we were riding along the coast, screens showed cartoons, commercials, and gore videos of train accidents.⁸

Start	Galle
End	Colombo Fort
Train number	8057
Departure (scheduled)	07:15
Arrival (scheduled)	09:31
Seat class	Air-conditioned first class

Wrapping up in Colombo (06.11—08.11.)

We reached Colombo Fort station again, 19 days after we had embarked from there to criss-cross the island. For the final two nights, we splurged on the hotel and picked the Cinnamon Red, which, as the name already indicates, belongs to Cinnamon Air.

We arrived in Colombo with plenty of ideas of things to do and see, but suffice it to say, we were also a little beat. This is why my tolerance for the obnoxious taxi drivers at the station was getting dangerously low. Ultimately, we managed to hail a driver to get us to the hotel.

The vibe at the Red was much different than in our previous accommodations. As we entered, we had to go through a security check with metal detector and luggage scanner. (Not that anybody cared about them going off.)

Even though we came quite early, a room for us was already available: a twin room with a warning sign not to move the beds, or else risk a fine. I had never seen such a thing before. But, nice hotel regardless.

Refreshed, we devised a plan for the afternoon, and ended up going back to the area around the station, namely, Pettah Market. We followed the market’s thoroughfare through huge crowds, picking up some more souvenirs along the way. For lunch, we were looking for dosa and found a hole-in-the-wall place that was supposedly great. It turned out to have three floors, and the waiters instructed us to go to the top floor, where dosa are served (and only there!)

Pettah Market is great for fabric and yarn shopping, which Vivi did. We already got a bunch of fabric from Kattankudy, but Pettah is every seamstress’ paradise.⁹ (And besides, we had plenty of luggage allowance left.)

As we passed by the Jami Ul-Alfar mosque, we noticed that there are free guided tours. Once again we were invited in by friendly folks, got to see the fantastic architecture, and chatted with some Tunisian tourists who want to move to Germany. Afterwards, more fabric, more yarn, more souvenirs.

To pick up some groceries, we went to Cargills’ main store, housed in a grandiose colonial-era building in the fort area. But, it was only nice on the outside. A guide correctly describes it as “showing faded elegance” and “mostly empty”. We did get some Arrack, though.

We spent the rest of the day checking some more boxes on our Things To Eat in Colombo list. At a nearby café, we observed a High Tea, another thing that I hadn’t seen before (however, we didn’t participate). For dinner, we went to Burley’s to get corn dogs.

To finish off the night, we took a bus towards the general direction of our hotel, and got off near Kollupitiya railway station. As luck had it, an evening commuter train was passing by. We spent some time taking in the scenery before going back to the hotel.

On our second-to-last day, we attempted to do some sightseeing. However, Colombo is sprawling and most things worth seeing are far apart from each other.

Our first stop was the Viharamahadevi Park, which was jam-packed, nay, brimming, with youth scouts. Apparently, we just walked into a giant scouting convention, complete with tent camps, outdoor activities, and workshops. The picture barely does the crowd justice.

Our second stop would’ve been the National Art Gallery; however, it was (and still is) closed for maintenance. According to online reviews, it has been in a state of disrepair for many years. But at least we were allowed to look at it from the outside, which cannot be said for the nearby theatre. We were just walking past it, when some kind of security officer bolted towards us and shooed us away, as if a mere glance at the enthralling edifice bode ill.

Onwards to the third stop, taking a tuktuk from the country’s de facto to its de jure capital city, the neighbouring Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte. Somehow I got it into my head that the parliament building could be interesting to see. It turned out to be another damp squib. Similar to the theatre, just the briefest of look-sees from afar was permitted, and only if it did not involve a camera. (The most interesting thing we saw was a saltwater crocodile on our way out.)

I doomscrolled Google Maps for an alternative and found a nearby park. Out of other options, we went there and were positively surprised. The park featured a lake with swan-shaped paddleboats for rent, and a plant fair. Needless to say, we rented one and browsed the other.

As we approached lunchtime, we decided to go for another item on our to-eat list: lamprais at the Dutch Burgher Union, both uniquely Sri Lankan institutions. The latter is an organisation representing people of mixed Dutch and Sri Lankan descent. The former is one of their characteristic dishes, literally a lump of rice wrapped in a banana leaf. Definitely an interesting experience in an interesting environment.

In the afternoon, we went to the central bank’s economic history museum.¹⁰ The opening times were confusing and contradictory, but we were allowed to browse for about half an hour before they closed.

We walked along the nearby park and beach, called Galle Face. Vivi ticked off the final (street food) item from the list: Isso Vade, a snack containing fried prawns. Much to the chagrin of the countless corvids in the park, she ate everything.

After watching another sunset over the ocean, we spent the remainder of the day in the mall, getting a foot rub, browsing the book store, getting a beer, and further enjoying life.

Last day in Colombo, and last day in Sri Lanka! To be precise, our flight would depart only past midnight. We didn’t only splurge on the selection of hotel, but also on an extra night.

Turned out to be a good idea. Vivi got sick, maybe from some of the food yesterday (the pub food wasn’t great). Because we technically had the room until after departure, she could sleep in, while I would go see some other sights.

I walked through the same park as the day before (the scouts were still at it), past the national gallery (still closed), to the national museum. It is large enough to spend the entire morning there, although I will admit that it was a little boring. Next stop the Gangaramaya and Seema Malakaya temples. Those are well worth a visit and in walking distance from the museum.

Finally, I couldn’t’ve left Colombo without going up the Lotus Tower. Sure, it is very touristy, but I also like towers. It was a clear day, so I could see most (?) of the city (keep the sprawl in mind). While I was walking around the observation deck, I started chatting with the fire chief, who was presumably bored and hence gave me a private “tour”. That was easily the best part of the day, since we didn’t get to talk to locals as much as in the weeks before.

Back at the hotel, we had to kill the time until midnight. Due to my wife’s stomach situation, we did not attempt to tick more boxes on the food list: No experiments!, as a famous chancellor would’ve said.

The final challenge was to navigate the airport’s weird layout. We had a bit too much cash left over, but only realised that we should’ve exchanged it before the luggage check, which comes before check-in. But once you’re past that point, staff won’t let you go out again. We did manage to convert our excess rupees and went on our merry way.

Epilogue

So, how do I summarise this trip in a way that does it justice? It was rich and varied, intense and rewarding, secluded and touristy. Sri Lanka has a ton to offer even if you don’t like hiking very much.

And let me just say one more thing: we got very, very lucky.

Not long after we returned home, Cyclone Ditwah ravaged the country. The central, mountainous region through which the Pekoe Trail meanders, was among the hardest-hit, causing landslides and road closures. Pretty much the entire trek between Kandy and Hatton became unwalkable, and as of writing, many of the trail stages are yet to reopen. Same goes for the railways: as of April, the segment from Hatton to Ella is only operating partially; same for Colombo to Kandy.

As the country is recovering, pay them a visit. There’s plenty to see.