World's End: Attempt 1

Sunrise between Bandarawela and Welimada

The road to Horton Plains National Park.

We rose at 5:15am this morning with the intention of visiting World's End. We had been advised to ensure we were there early, before the mist rolled in and all you could see was white. Din, our guesthouse owner, told us that on the bike we should get there in 40 minutes as it was only a 35km ride and then a 4km walk. Little did we know, the route Din was referring to was not that which was on our map.

We rode a 60km loop through Bandarawela, Welimada, down to Ohiya and out to the National Park. It took two and a half hours. Needless to say, as we rode towards Horton Plains National Park, we were in a cloud. The mist had won this round and it was absolutely freezing. As we contemplated our options and how lost we were we decided the best option was...breakfast. We ate our rotis and samosas roadside before continuing to the National Park Office and turning back around. Looking at the positives though...it was a very scenic ride through all kind of terrain. We got to watch a beautiful sunrise and for once the roads were peaceful as local people went quietly about cooking their breakfast on open fires and heading to work.

The road to Horton Plains National Park.

We made no mistake regarding our route home and had the guy at the National Park Office draw us a map. Good thing we did too as it rained and rained and we were happy to be taking the shortcut back to Haputale. And even happier to have invested in Gortex jackets to keep us dry.

The colder climate has messed with my system leaving me feeling pretty average. It's hard to know which part is from the weather, which is from sitting on a bike for so many hours and which is from the street food. Speaking of which, we had a fantastic lunch at Risara Restaurant once back in Haputale. Rice, dahl, bean curry, beetroot curry, coconut sambal, naan and chapati washed down with milk tea all for the equivalent of just over $2 AUD for the both of us. We asked for one serve as we weren't particularly hungry. Good thing too as there was enough food to feed an army. And that was before he offered to top our curries back up. We couldn't get through all our chapati so he put it back on the shelf to be sold to another customer. No waste here! I felt much better after lunch. Sri Lanka was all getting a bit much for a minute there. I wanted a meat pie, footpaths, English, wifi and to wash my clothes. I now know that a good curry can fix that feeling pretty efficiently.

Planning the next stage of our journey.

After three days of wrong turns and sore bums we went all out and bought a map of Sri Lanka's roads. The Lonely Planet maps had done for us what they could but it was time to move on. And for $2 AUD we were happy we did. We spent a couple of hours planning and re-planning and have decided that tomorrow we'll give World's End another go before heading toward Dalhousie. That is, if all goes to plan which considering our track record of the last few days is pretty laughable.

We've scoured the town for wifi and have decided there isn't any that works and doesn't cost an arm and a leg. We did realise though that its New Years Eve so Chris has got himself a nice warm can of Anchor beer to celebrate with. After the beer and a lay down, we went into town again, this time in search of dinner and some photos. Risara Restaurant again provided our meal only this time it was made less enjoyable by the large number of other tourists crowding it. I guess that's the price you pay when Lonely Planet gets a hold of a place.

Our usual eats: street food

Thanks Haputale. You've made us feel quite at home.

Note: many of the Tuk Tuks have profound quotes written on them along with their flashing lights, rasta colours and Che Guevara images. I'd like to share them as I come across them.

Tuk Tuk wisdom: "It never rains as much as it thunders."

 

Haputale by night

Sri Lankan kilometres accumulated on bike to date: 525km

 

Deniyaya to Haputale

Little tea plantation outside Deniyaya.

One of the many waterfalls.

After our horrible sleep last night, combined with dogs barking, kids crying and general Buddhist temple noise going on this morning, we hit the road pretty early. We backtracked to Kotapola, 10km south of Deniyaya, and had a look at Kiruwananaganga Falls. Let's just say that they were so impressive we drove right past them without realising it. We also walked up a whole bunch of stairs to see a rock temple. Turns out it too was unimpressive and resembled many other temples we have seen so far except that it was alive with monkeys. They were everywhere! One was even game enough to throw something at me! Temples are everywhere over here. Even the dingiest, dirtiest towns seems to have at least one shrine which is immaculately clean and new-looking. Priorities I guess.

After we returned to our guest house and gathered our things we were back aboard our bike for what we thought would be an easy day's riding. Haha. Oh how we were wrong.

Breakfast

To begin with we headed out and found a beautiful spot overlooking the valley to have our morning vegetable roti. We continued, relaxed, only to realise we had been riding in the complete wrong direction for 10km and therefore had to retrace our tracks back to Deniyaya to start again. While 20km might not sound very far, when you're on pot-holed, gravel roads it can take an hour or so. Back in Deniyaya we headed onto the A17 road that we had heard such great things about. While it was truly spectacular in its beauty, the road itself left a lot to be desired and the 67km of it from Deniyaya to Madampe took forever!! It did however have waterfalls on every second corner, some of which put the official falls we saw this morning to shame.

View from the A17 between Deniyaya and Rakwana.

Lauren inspecting a road side tree.

We decided to take today one stop at a time after the tiring A17. We made it to Pelmadulla, only getting a bit wet as we rode into town and the skies opened as they had yesterday. We then figured that because the roads had improved so substantially and we were now moving at speeds faster than 25km/hr, we'd push on as far as we could. Through Balangoda (for some lunch by the roadside), then Belihul Oya, Kalupahana and onto our destination of Haputale.

Road into Haputale.

At 1400m above sea level, the road into Haputale had some stunning views. The climate here is dramatically different to that of the coast, and even to Deniyaya from where we came today. Here, after a shower to scrub the black diesel fumes off our bodies and out of our hair, we climbed into jeans and jumpers rather than swimmers and singlets to head out for dinner. A far cry from the sticky, heavy humidity of Unawatuna. We ate the first thali of our trip. It consisted of rice and three vegetarian dishes that had been sitting there for god knows how long. We were even lucky enough to score some papadams which the helpful owner brought over and dumped on our plates with his dirty bare hands. We also loaded up on roti and samosas to take with us on our early morning hike tomorrow morning and all up, including drinks, it cost us the equivalent of about $3 AUD.

Pit stop on the A17 between Deniyaya and Rakwana.

Over the 213km we rode today, we saw the scenery change endlessly. From rice paddies to rolling hills of tea plantations, to rainforest, to open plains and back again. It seemed that around every corner there was another photo opportunity. For this reason among many we were pleased today with our decision to ride our way around Sri Lanka rather than rely on public transport. We can stop and start as we like, move at our own pace and really breathe in the sights and sounds of rural Sri Lanka. It hasn't yet ceased to amaze me how friendly everybody has been. From the countless locals from whom we asked directions, to our helpful guesthouse owners to the men serving us dinner from their tiny street 'restaurants.'

 

Fog crossing Temple Road, Haputale.

Sri Lankan kilometres accumulated on bike to date: 425km

 

Claude, Tea and Sore Bums

Mr Claude Amarasinghe

Sri Lanka sure knows how to throw bloody big days at us.

We began the day with a quick stop for some cheap bakery snacks before heading to Galle so we could sit upon the fort walls and eat our breakfast. Then we were on a mission...to visit Claude as organised a few days earlier. Baddegama, which is only 20km-ish from Unawatuna, is surprisingly hard to find when the map drawn for you is on a post-it note and the person who drew it spoke only limited English and therefore couldn't really explain it to you. Still, we set off in the hope that other locals would make sense of this mud map we had.

 

 

 

 

Mr Claude Amarasinghe

We got lost a few times. Then we got really lost but a very friendly local who didn't speak English came to our rescue. He noticed there was a phone number on our map so rang it without hesitation, got directions and led us to a large padlocked gate where we were to wait for the man himself...Claude Amarasinghe.

The 88 year old emerged from cinnamon/coconut/rubber estate, hobbling down a grassy hill with a broken leg and a hat with a wombat on it. What a man! Within 2 minutes I had been offered one of Claude's bungalows to live in indefinitely, his car to use as we liked and a king coconut. We took him up on the offer of the coconut, which he sent one of his staff to go chop down for us, and we took a seat in his home and began to reminisce.

Presents for Claude.

On behalf on Pete we passed on a message and a bottle of Arrack and shared some photos of Pete, his kids and his grandkids, and in return got some great stories about Pete and his mates during their youth (watch out Pete). We also got the offer of a trip to the Maldives for a reduced price (Claude would come along of course), the offer of Claude being our guarantor so we could buy a brand new motorbike which he would buy from us when we were done with it so we would get our money back and the offer of buying land adjacent to his and moving to Sri Lanka.

Claude sure was a character and at 88 was still up for travelling around with us, having a few shots of Arrack with us when we return to visit him later and still loves to chase a bargain. I feel so privileged to have met this man who was so kind to Pete so long ago and was so happy to take us into his home without question. As he reminded us, we're like family and as we travel, we should feel free to drop his name whenever necessary. After he hugged and sniffed (yes sniffed) us goodbye, we were off again. Thanks Claude.

Over it

After our adventure this afternoon of getting from Baddegama to Deniyaya our feeling of being "lost" this morning, suddenly felt insignificant. We sure can pick the backstreets. From Baddegama we ended up in Elpitiya then forged ahead, against the advice of the locals, towards Morawaka via the road on the south side of the Sinharaja Forest Reserve. The road being "under construction" is a gigantic understatement. It was under Sri Lankan style construction. So, while some sections of the road were a dream to drive, others were a dirt, pot-holed, one lane goat track. Add to that crazy Sri Lankan bus drivers, suicidal dogs, over-friendly construction workers and monsoonal downpours that threw raindrops as big as coconuts, and that pretty much sums up our afternoon. Oh, and the jaw-droppingly beautiful hill country, endless tea plantations and huge grins from every local we rode past. Worth it.

Wet weather gear: necessary!

It took us seven hours to ride 200km. And on a bumpy road with three bags somehow hanging from the bike (and from us) we were darn sore as we approached Deniyaya. So when we came across a road block about 1km from our destination, it wasn't ideal. Traffic was banked up, and around, and down, and on and over the 'highway' and its side streets. Thankfully, after about 15 minutes of standing around looking confused, the policeman controlling traffic spotted our fluorescent attire and white skin and let us through. Turns out they'd closed the road so the entire population of the town could stand around/on/in the buildings and streets and watch guys doing tricks on their motorbikes. This was part of a larger racing competition that happened to be going on as we arrived in town.

Wet and tired we were forced to set off on foot (blocked by the racing) to find a place to rest our heads. After much walking and negotiating with Nicky we claimed a room with hot water for 1000 LKR. Not bad when they originally offered 2500 LKR. Really though it was more down to luck than our negotiating skills. The dingy room at Nicky's friend's place, that he was hoping to put us in, was full so we're now staying at Sinharaja Rest, where they are trying their darnedest to convince us that going on a rainforest tour tomorrow is a grand idea. Doubt it. Don't they know we're on a budget?

Turns put that the motorbike racing was part of a much larger festival that was happening in Deniyaya and continued to happen until 3am. Although we chose not to attend, we didn't miss anything as the sound of the band which bellowed until all hours of the morning was channelled through the valley right into our bedroom. After about 11am it was no longer funny. After a huge day of riding, the fact that we couldn't sleep went from frustrating to annoying to tear provoking. We were glad to only be handing over 1000 LKR, especially considering we were sharing a single room.

 

Hill Country

Sri Lankan kilometres accumulated on bike to date: 212km

 

Unawatuna Euro Style

Lion Beer, Unawatuna

The name's Huijs. Christopher Huijs.

This morning we went in search of something a bit different for breakfast. We ended up with enough fruit and bakery snacks to do both breakfast and lunch for the both of us for the bargain price of 290 LKR. Bread stuffed with jam, bread stuffed with seriously spicy potatoes and bread with some kind of sausage in it. Delicious! We found a fruit stall and got a bunch of bananas and a pineapple which they kindly chopped into slices, leaving only the end on the stalk which he sliced in half turning it into two giant pineapple lollipops.

Today was the day we would decide whether to hire a motorbike for the next few weeks or not. We asked around, found two different prices and in the end went with the more expensive, but hopefully more reliable, option.

 



 

 

Deciding to embrace Unawatuna for the day, rather than our usual rejecting of it due to all the tourists and inflated prices, we sat on the beach and drank beer and bathed in the ocean and began to understand how all the Europeans came here and sat for weeks on end. Except for the fact that 400 LKR buys you a pathetic amount of hot chips, it really was quite nice being waited on as you scrunched sand between your toes and went from ocean to restaurant in one swoop.

Blonde barbie, Unawatuna

After being thoroughly entertained by a couple of barbie-like blonde Russians in g-strings and heels on the beach, we left and picked up our bike and made a quick trip to Galle for some petrol and in the hope of finally finding a pharmacy which sells Mefloquine malaria tablets to replenish our quickly dwindling supply. No luck yet. As we cruised back to Unawatuna past a crowd of men watching and waiting as local fishermen dragged in the evening's loot of fish in their nets, it began to rain and we got a taste of what the next few weeks may be like if the weather continues as it has. Apparently the railway near Ella has been closed for two days thanks to a landslide. Maybe the monsoon really hasn't quite moved away.

Sticking with the embracing Unawatuna theme we wandered past the restaurants overlooking the ocean. We ended up at the same restaurant we were having beers at earlier. A disappointing steak for Chris and fish for Lauren. This made us realise one thing...when in Sri Lanka, eat Sri Lankan because that's what they are good at. Despite the meal it was a lovely location and a delightful dinner.

 

Galle and The Fort

The walls of the fort meet the Indian Ocean

After a peaceful sleep, broken only by our security guard, the guest house's dog, we headed off on the local bus to Galle. By now we're quite used to jumping on as the bus slows down but doesn't stop.

Clambering up the Fort walls

We explored Galle on foot. We learnt that the Dutch took over the city of Galle from the Portugese in 1663, and built the 36 hectare fort and that the huge stone walls had continued to protect the city, even through the 2004 tsunami.

International Cricket Stadium, Galle

After just a quick look at inside the fort walls, we headed into New Galle in search of breakfast. Sri Lankan bakery food in hand, we made our way back into The Fort to eat. We then walked a circuit of The Fort atop the gigantic wall. Our views changed from the Galle International Cricket Stadium, to some local games of barefoot cricket, to the splendid Indian Ocean, turquoise and lapping at the walls. We decided that the walls of an ancient fort are a pretty good spot from which to watch a game of cricket.

We witnessed some inspiring buildings in want of renovation. And boy would we love to oblige. The wooden framework of the doors and windows and the sharp render of the simple buildings are just waiting to be combined with the grand, historical warehouse-like shells of the abandoned-looking buildings within The Fort. A Grand Design waiting to happen we think. So much so that we were forced to check out the local real estate listings. Hmmmmmmm.

After a couple of hours of walking we were hot. Stinking hot and sweaty. The Sri Lankan heat is like no other and we are soon discovering why the Sri Lankan people move at the pace they often do. We cooled down with a cold bottle of water in the shade of a tree before completing our circuit of The Fort.

Walking the circuit of the fort

We then went in search of an ice cream store we'd heard about as we walked and ended up at Dairy King, at the far end of The Fort, where we devoured a chocolate and a mango ice cream. Well deserved after 10 kilometres of walking.

We got the bus home, had a quick swim and returned to our room in the hope of drying our clothes. The humidity of this place, combined with our room being closed up, meant even our dry clothes had become damp overnight. Humidity.

Monkeys and their coconuts

As I spoke to Mum on the phone, I noticed five monkeys playing in the trees above me. I had to move inside as their debauchery meant a coconut fell from the tree and landed next to me. Only in Sri Lanka.

We ventured out again once the sun lost its bite and had some beers on the beach as the sun set behind the temple on the hill. Even in comparison to Mirissa this place is expensive though! 300 LKR for a bottle of Lion beer this time. We treated ourselves though before heading back to our favourite hang for dinner. Chicken friend noodles, dahl and rice and our first experience with hoppers. Yummo!

I think I've realised why I enjoy the Sri Lankan restaurants and bars so much. It's because everyone, including the owners, are barefoot, there's sand everywhere (much to Chris' dismay) and nobody is in a hurry. We are slowly slipping into Sri Lanka mode and I reckon that before this six months is up, chris'll have dreads. Even though he thinks he's more likely to have a dreaded beard than anything else.

 

Where in the World is Claude Amarasinghe?

Unawatuna

After a terrible sleep, we woke to the sound of a radio being tuned in. We assumed they were trying very hard to find a channel broadcasting the Boxing Day Test but unfortunately only found Sri Lankan music at 6am.

After brekky and packing up our things, we boarded a local bus. It got us to Weligama. So we boarded another one which got us all the way to Unawatuna. All up 116 LKR for the both of us. We figure we were overcharged but when it cost us 88 Aussie cents, we can't really complain.

After checking in at our guesthouse, Sea Breeze, we began the hunt for Claude Amarasinghe, who Pete lived with in Unawatuna in 1978. After an elderly local man approached us we asked him if he knew Claude. He explained that Claude no longer lived in Unawatuna and was like Batman in that nobody ever really saw him. He took us to Amma's Guesthouse which is apparently run by Claude's family. The owner was unimpressed and wanted nothing to do with us. He claimed he had no idea what we, or the elderly man, were talking about despite our pestering. Next stop...tourist information.

Suni was extremely helpful. He rang his mother because "she knows everything" and got us the contact details for Claude's nephew. He also explained that the guy at Amma's Guesthouse was part of the same family but was 'strange.' We set off to find Mr Sahabandu (the nephew) who owns Rock View. Little did Suni know, Rock View had been demolished and was now a construction site. A friendly Tuk Tuk driver showed us into the site. Mr Sahabandu was rebuilding and was extremely helpful. He rang one of Claude's daughters and put us in a Tuk Tuk, driven by one of his staff, to take us to her property...she too was building a guesthouse. Next thing we knew, I was on the phone to Claude himself and he had invited us to see him in Baddegama on the 29th, "when the house will be clean." Back at Mr Sahabandu's place, we all sat together and realised that Claude's daughter did infact know of the Westerners who stayed with her father and built the Coconut Cabanas in the 70s, despite not having been born herself until 1982.

Claude still owns what seems to be the majority of beachfront land in Unawatuna and his family members are thriving off this fact, building restaurants and guesthouses to cater for the masses of tourists. With the map drawn for us by Mr Sahabandu and best wishes from Claude's daughter we will be heading to Baddegama with Arak in hand in a few days.

Our path to our jungle beach

We decided to take a shortcut back to Sea Breeze following the advice of an official looking sign. As we waded through ankle deep water which covered the path, I questioned whether we were going the right way. Chris responded nonchalantly with "there are fish on this track." We forged ahead and made it eventually.

What a morning! We rewarded ourselves with dahl and devilled fish at a local establishment, with a ginger beer to wash it down, and tried our best to avoid the throngs of Europeans that rolled around like lobsters on the overcrowded beach. We were exhausted. But that never stopped us before, so we set off once again.

We made it to the Buddhist Temple at the far Western end of the beach, took in the sight of some drunk local guys dancing in the sun to the beat of their own drum, literally. Next we went bush in search of Jungle Beach. The number Tuk Tuk drivers offering to take you there made us think it would be easy to find. And maybe it would have been if we stuck to the main road. We didn't. And it was so worth it.

Our path to our jungle beach

We trekked through jungle, across streams, over rocks and under trees and found our very own Jungle Beach. This place was not in any guidebook and, considering the path to get there, for good reason.

Our very own Jungle Beach

The real Jungle Beach

We did eventually find the real jungle beach where we swam to relieve our sweaty brows, and backs, and arms. We and sweat coming from places we didn't even know could sweat. After a refreshing dip though we were back to it.

 

Peace Pagoda, Unawatuna

We visited the Peace Pagoda and some big Buddhist shrine where a monk wrapped white cotton around our wrists and put herbal oil on my head...all for a fee of course. To find our way home, we followed the directions of numerous locals who led us through no man's land and back again. Let's just say we got to see the real Sri Lanka and made it back to Unawatuna in one piece. After a stroll down the beach to get home, Chris' high-tech watch (which I have finally admitted was a useful purchase) told us that we had clocked up 18 kilometres of walking.

I think we're finding it difficult to really enjoy the natural beauty of Unawatuna, knowing how different it is now to when Pete was here. It really must have been paradise back then. However, you've got to respect that the people are rebuilding after the tsunami took their everything, even if they are building right on the darn high tide mark.

As a side note...the Fur Elise playing Tuk Tuk seems to have followed us from Mirissa. Looks like it'll be stuck in my head for another three days. Goody.

Unawatuna

 

Christmas Sri Lankan Style

Sunrise, Giragala

This morning we rose early to watch the sun rise from Giragala, or Parrot Rock. As the fishermen returned from their morning ritual fish, we sat with the local dogs and watched the sun change Mirissa from blue to pink to orange and back again. This is Christmas morning...Sri Lankan style.

Mirissa's Paradise

Thanks to the joys of technology we spoke to our families and shared how we would each be spending Christmas Day.

Thanks to a walk East along the beach from our guesthouse we discovered Mirissa's paradise after scrambling across some rocks. Aqua water lapped the shore while young kid "fishermen" returned to their parents with the day's catch. We bobbed like corks for some time, taking in the sway of the overhanging coconut trees.

Christmas tree

After a bunch more swimming and lazing, dodging coconuts as they fell from the trees, we peeled ourselves off the beach in search of roti. Banana roti and a watermelon filled our tummies. After being invited into the glass box that is the roti street kitchen a new found respect for our chefs developed. The glass box in which they work was like a green house, pushing the already swealtering heat to new levels. The flies didn't seem to mind the heat though. They congregated in the "kitchen" like our rotti was the last food they might ever eat.

Lauren needs to buy a hat.

After one more dip, well deserved after all that eating, we returned for yet another nap. Today was hot, hotter than days past, and prompted the realisation that a better sunscreen needed to be purchased if our pasty Melbourne skin was to stand a chance in the tropics.

Sweaty and Wet Simultaneously

As it was Christmas we thought we'd go all out and enjoy an afternoon on the beach, which is significantly more expensive than food and drink anywhere else. So, we dressed, packed a bag and headed out...suddenly it was evident that we really had chosen to visit Sri Lanka on the cusp of her monsoon. It pissed down. Enjoyable at first, we wandered in the rain along the beach and found Cafe Mirissa to set up camp at. As the rain increased, it became more and more obvious that Sri Lankans boast ingenuity. The roof leaked and threatened to collapse until the locals hurriedly pushed and pulled the roof material to create a drain point. So, stranded in the downpour, we did the only thing we could do...drink beer until it cleared. And at 200 LKR, the equivalent of $1.50 AUD, for a 750mL bottle, why wouldn't you? Combine that with a dip in the ocean while the skies unleashed their load and sliding back into a cafe where the tables are on the sand and you can sit there in your swimmers, life in the monsoon was good.

Monsoon

For dinner, we returned to the same place as yesterday. This time, a cheese kottu with our dahl and rice. The price of dahl somehow increased by 50 LKR overnight but we figured it must just be a better version today.

We wandered home in the warm rain, wet but content, to the sounds of men using power tools in the pouring rain, barefoot, at night on a construction site as thunder and lightning struck. Tomorrow will be our last morning of being woken by the Tuk Tuk that blares Beethoven's Fur Elise on repeat as it goes around selling baked goods. Tomorrow we continue our Amarasinghe mission in Unawatuna.

 

The rains are comin'

 

Let the motorcycling begin

Chris and ScootyPuff

Who knew hiring a scooter could be so complicated? After our standard Amanda Resort breakfast, eaten on the top floor with views of the sea, we headed out with a plan. We intended to go into town and hire a scooter for $5 like we had seen others do yesterday. However, we spotted a place on the way and figured we'd just rent from there. The Italian owner offered us a price of 1000 LKR and ushered us across a rickety bridge to his guest house. After giving him Chris' license, a debacle with waiting for a key, needing the licence and therefore having to go back to our guesthouse to get a passport and generally not liking the guy running the place we decided we'd get out passport and reconsider our options. However, when we returned and told one of the local guys that 1000 LKR was too much, he simply lowered the price to 800 LKR and we were off. We filled up with 300 LKR of petrol, funnelled into the bike from two vodka bottles at the local Lanka Filling Station and headed East.

 

 

 

 

Parey Dewa, Matara

We dodged traffic and followed the coast to Matara where we checked out Parey Dewa (a big rock in the ocean on which a small buddhist temple sits) connected to the mainland by a pedestrian bridge. Matara was also home to a large standing Buddah with some elephants in its garden. We were excited until we realised they were chained so tightly that they couldn't even take one step. It's hard to understand who could be impressed after seeing such a sight.

 

 

50m tall mosaic Buddah, Wewurukannala Vihara

Demons and sinners, Wewurukannala Vihara

We continued along the coast to Dondra Head where we searched in vain for the lighthouse before continuing through Dikwella to Wewurukannala Vihara (just up the road that heads toward Beliatta), home to Sri Lanka's largest seated Buddah...50m tall! We paid 200 LKR each to climb to the top of the Buddah and explore what Lonely Planet describes as "a real hall of horrors." The life size statues depict demons punishing sinners by way of being sawn in half, dumped in a cauldron and disembowelled. This hall seemed to really inspire the need to pray as we watched many devotees pay their respects after seeing this confronting sight. Again there were elephants chained up. It's sad to think that enough people pay to have a photo with these animals to justify keeping them there.


Dotted along the coast road are countless temples and shrines to Buddah. More confronting though are the signs dotted along the road which point to roads which should be taken in case of a tsunami and warning signs that remind you that this is indeed a "tsunami zone." A confronting reminder of all this place has been through and recovered from.

Again we followed the coast to Tangalla to be mildly disappointed by the beach we'd heard so much about. So, after a quick dip and an attempt to scrub some of the grime off our faces that had accumulated thanks to all the buses and tractors, we headed inland.

Rice paddies

Once we passed through Beliatta and headed towards Kirinda Sri Lanka really showed us her beauty. The traffic was comparably non-existent and the number of tourists was nil. This fact was emphasised by the stares, waves, big smiles and congregations of people we attracted as we rode along. Bright green rice paddies were framed by lines of coconut trees, the air was fresh and water buffalo grazed. Ahhhhh!

We looped back to the coast at Matara and the traffic was once again hectic as we rode back towards Mirissa. Chris' level of comfort of being behind the handlebars had increased as the day progressed so by this point we zipped between obstacles with ease. And boy, were there some obstacles to zip between. Buses seem not to view motorbikes as actual vehicles and as such enjoy overtaking cars while motorbikes are coming the other way. Some of the wildlife we encountered, and dodged successfully included a monkey, a goanna, countless cows and dogs some of which were so haggard looking they resembled hyenas rather than canines.

Lauren waving to her mates.

Back in Mirissa we dumped the bike, scrubbed the soot from out faces and rejuvenated our bodies in the salty ocean. Next...nap time.

For dinner we found a cheap chicken kottu (again breaking our no meat rule) and a rice and dahl. 330 LKR might be our cheapest dinner yet. After a sit on the beach to unwind after a day of way too many car fumes, we contemplated a life lived in Sri Lanka and are considering changing our travel plans already. The undisturbed East Coast is calling.