King Coconuts in Kandy
(The entry below was written in central Sri Lanka, but I've only just got around to typing it up. Also included are some photos, and apologies for the excruciatingly poor quality, but I had to make do with a disposable camera for reasons already explained.)
KANDY - May 26, 2007
Having arrived at Bandaranaike International Airport, I fell into the welcoming and waiting arms of Meril at Airwing Tours. After much deliberation and haggling, I signed up for a driver and three nights accommodation in three separate cities in Sri Lanka. It cost 27,000 Sri Lankan rupees, which is roughly about Dh 920, which is approximately £128.
The drive from Negombo, which is where the airport is, to Kandy takes three hours, but as it was 5.30am Sri Lankan time (strangely it was 4am UAE time!) the sun had risen and I was able to take in the sights of the Subcontinent.
And what a sight greeted me outside the bank. A slender, dark-skinned figure was sitting on a small wall with their back to me - absolutely naked. The body was writhing as it toyed with something in it's hands. Only when I got nearer and he turned around to reveal a scraggly grey beard and a pair of blood-shot eyes that even Oliver Reed would have been proud of, did my thoughts return to the autoteller.
My driver's name is Tajman, but I've to call him Taj. He is a smiley fellow, like most people in Sri Lanka seem to be. He speaks English perfectly, but can also communicate in Sinhala, Hindi, Tamil and Arabic (he used to work in Doha). He is a Roman Catholic and informs me that Negombo is often called 'Little Rome' because 90 per cent of its population are RC.
It may have been the fact that I have had only five hours sleep since Wednesday night (it's now Saturday morning) but as we drive through the shanty towns on our way to Kandy, overtaking ricketty old tuk-tuks and buses full of smiling schoolchildren, I think I love this place.
We stop at a roadside stall selling fruit and buy two king coconuts ("very good for you in the morning" says Taj, "but make you pee-pee"), two boiled corn on the cobs and two herbal drinks (a green sweet and sour milky drink with rice in it, boiled). I stand in the shade of a palm tree drinking my coconut juice through a straw in the top of its shell and watch the world go by. This is nothing like I have ever experienced before. Men walking along the pot-holed roads, bare-chested and wearing shorts or sarongs. Three-wheeled rickshaws thundering along the road, weaving in and out of the oncoming traffic. Fields as far as the eye can see full of rice. Mountainous landscapes in the other direction with shiny, evergree trees. Little black girls with their hair in pleats walking to school in their white school dresses. A haggard old woman sitting among three prickly porcupines chained to a tree stump.
KANDY - May 26, 2007
Having arrived at Bandaranaike International Airport, I fell into the welcoming and waiting arms of Meril at Airwing Tours. After much deliberation and haggling, I signed up for a driver and three nights accommodation in three separate cities in Sri Lanka. It cost 27,000 Sri Lankan rupees, which is roughly about Dh 920, which is approximately £128.
The drive from Negombo, which is where the airport is, to Kandy takes three hours, but as it was 5.30am Sri Lankan time (strangely it was 4am UAE time!) the sun had risen and I was able to take in the sights of the Subcontinent.
And what a sight greeted me outside the bank. A slender, dark-skinned figure was sitting on a small wall with their back to me - absolutely naked. The body was writhing as it toyed with something in it's hands. Only when I got nearer and he turned around to reveal a scraggly grey beard and a pair of blood-shot eyes that even Oliver Reed would have been proud of, did my thoughts return to the autoteller.
My driver's name is Tajman, but I've to call him Taj. He is a smiley fellow, like most people in Sri Lanka seem to be. He speaks English perfectly, but can also communicate in Sinhala, Hindi, Tamil and Arabic (he used to work in Doha). He is a Roman Catholic and informs me that Negombo is often called 'Little Rome' because 90 per cent of its population are RC.
It may have been the fact that I have had only five hours sleep since Wednesday night (it's now Saturday morning) but as we drive through the shanty towns on our way to Kandy, overtaking ricketty old tuk-tuks and buses full of smiling schoolchildren, I think I love this place.
We stop at a roadside stall selling fruit and buy two king coconuts ("very good for you in the morning" says Taj, "but make you pee-pee"), two boiled corn on the cobs and two herbal drinks (a green sweet and sour milky drink with rice in it, boiled). I stand in the shade of a palm tree drinking my coconut juice through a straw in the top of its shell and watch the world go by. This is nothing like I have ever experienced before. Men walking along the pot-holed roads, bare-chested and wearing shorts or sarongs. Three-wheeled rickshaws thundering along the road, weaving in and out of the oncoming traffic. Fields as far as the eye can see full of rice. Mountainous landscapes in the other direction with shiny, evergree trees. Little black girls with their hair in pleats walking to school in their white school dresses. A haggard old woman sitting among three prickly porcupines chained to a tree stump.
It's exactly how I image Africa, but it's Asia. I always thought my friend Sujiva was African until he told me he was Asian - I remember betting him £5 that Sri Lanka was in Africa. Oh naivety!
Further along the road, a man stands balancing a box of mango sticks on his head, a pack of monkeys dash across the road in front of us - Taj informs me there are two types of monkey in Sri Lanka: the Black Monkey and the Yellow Monkey. "Yellow Monkey is craaazy. Very naughty," he says smiling. "Everywhere they go, they make sex."
As he informs me we are nearing my first of the three hotels, we wind up a twisting road, stuck behind a tuk-tuk. Only when we go around a wide bend do we realise that the tuk-tuk is also stuck in traffic - behind two elephants! They are plodding along up the hill, their ivory tusks still in tact. I watch them as we drive past and let out a gasp of sheer excitement; like a youngster who's just noticed Santa Clause handing out gifts in their local Asda. Elephants walking the streets! Amazing.
The hotel is called The Majestic, and it is anything but. Well, that;s not fair. On first impression it is a dive, but it's got everything you could wish for: balcony, double bed, air-con, ensuite, hot water, breakfast. The staff member I meet is a peculiar looking guy who seems intent on staying in my room as long as possible. His big smile has an ambiguous slant to it and when he offers me a massage I quickly decline and insist he lets me sleep - which I do once I have expelled him from my presence and, naturally, locked my door.
(This was the view from the balcony of The Majestic - if you click the picture you can see the monkeys eating bananas - inevitably, soon after they started 'making sex')
(This was me at the edge of Kandy Lake, there is an island in the middle that looks like paradise, one solo palm tree and a smattering of greenery)
posted by Sheikh Gareemi Nahan at 11:37 PM
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