As we left the Queen’s Hotel on Friday morning, another wedding! And more staff wearing facemasks. We asked why: Coronavirus. Supposedly, with so much capital structural investment in the island, eg new trains & buildings, China’s rapidly evolving tourism was making significant inroads; it has all shuddered to a halt. Everywhere, we are told the numbers of tourists are down on recent years, partly also due to the no small deterrent of the bombs around the island last Easter, with over 250 being killed by an Islamist terrorist group.

Yesterday’s train ride from Kandy to Ella really was sensational, winding it’s gentle way into the mountains. It took six hours to do the 42 miles. But even by road the journey would have been 2.5 hours. Ella, where we stay for three days, is the opposite. Tourism run amok, indeed running amok, with so many new buildings throughout the town, & yoof bars & restaurants prevailing.

Today we took part of the train journey again, going back for an hour to Haputale & then by tuk-tuk to the Lipton tea plantation at Dambatenne. We bought some Silver Tips tea  on the advice of our tuk-tuk driver as it is unavailable anywhere else in Sri Lanka, but we were unimpressed with the official Lipton’s tour – failed to go into any depth about tea or its cultivation. The tuk-tuk driver told us the tea crop (yep, leaves) is taken every seven or twelve years. Not surprising, then, that so much of these mountains are given over to tea plantations.

All due to one Thomas Lipton, who found a market in UK, then invested in the cultivation in Sri Lanka at the end of the 1890s; he is still much venerated here. We were also driven to Lipton’s Seat, on a ridge between two valleys, at one of the highest points. Stunning views were slightly marred by heat mists. Amazing tuk-tuk adventure, though, with about two hours of three-wheel travel. We decided today’s driver was the best we’ve ever experienced; he even demonstrated anticipation & patience. And he smiled for almost the whole journey, up & down the mountains.

Tomorrow marks the half-time in our holiday, although it feels we’ve done so much; time for time-out, so we’ve booked a swish (we hope) hotel for two nights in Tangalle on the south coast, to which we are due to be driven by taxi on Monday morning. A two and a half hours journey down from the mountains  is going to cost us 8,000 rupees, about £34 – negotiated down from 10,000 rupees by the Guest House owner where we are staying for three nights. That is the only positive comment we can make about this accommodation.

Half-Time

Today started off with a wedding party, in very full regalia, arriving at the hotel at 7am. Keen!

After our breakfast, with the party still posing for the photographer, we went to the Kandy Botanic Gardens. By bus. That was fun. Everyone warned about having to stand, but initially we were the only ones on board & 20 minutes later, when we got off, there were still only about 10 other passengers. The trip cost approx. 10p each.

The gardens are mighty fine, with great trees from all over the world & special displays of ferns, cacti, flowers, all OK, a suspension bridge (a bit hairy), a fantastic display of over 300 orchids & serenity from the bustling, over-trafficed city. I think orchids are always fantasy. And a colony of 1,000 Flying Foxes, aka fruit bats, hanging  upside-down, of course, in the trees. The return journey was also in a bus, this one with shrine cockpit, complete with Buddhas, pictures, ribbons & a tv screen. Most of the buses are ancient & made by Lanka Leyland – that tells a story in itself.

And as walked into the hotel, the sounds of the wedding DJ emanated throughout, ie party! But all quiet by 6pm: pretty typical of Sri Lanka, not a lively night place. Maybe that’s why sleep eludes me; after the 12 hour Colombo session, last night was the first uninterrupted proper sleep for me, perhaps aided by two glasses of excellent, ridiculously underpriced Burgundy I discovered on the wine list. Three more glasses in the bottle for tonight ….. except my snorer companion will probably claim one.

Tomorrow we travel up-mountain, again, this time to Ella. Our train is due to leave at 11.10 & take about six hours, in one of the most famous train journeys in the world – check out the Michael Portillo episode. You could almost walk it quicker.

Tea Anyone?

So, on Monday, I had curry breakfast, lunch & dinner. Henceforth, Monday = curry day. But then Kaff had the same trilogy on Tuesday! Where do we go from here?

A reminder, we’re on tour. Next stop Polonnaruwa, with huge relics of a 12th century citadel. Many miles, thank Evans for Anura (our driver) + car, & temples & Buddhas. Around the stupa, biggest in blaadi bla, are “image houses”, in which individual momentoes are positioned, incl. dolls, jewellery, incense, paintings. Yeah, the first cinemas?

Then Anuradhapura, another citadel, this time from the 4th century BC. The location includes a Bodhi tree, at 2,000 years the oldest tree (in the world, queue Queen). The ancient architecture is grand, pointless?, well the stupas are filled with earth, so only purpose is mine’s bigger than yours, yet some of the artistry is now more than 800 years old ….. longevity? By way of explanation, a stupa is the same as a dagoba, close to a pagoda, too.

Due to no shoes in temples rules, combined with the sun’s impact upon stone walkways, we both now have blistered soles (possibly souls, too). Walking is now more considered. Not looking for any sympathy here!

On the way back to Kandy, we visit Aukuna, a lesser known full height Buddha location. A visitor village is being built around this sacred site ….

And then time to visit the mighty Dambulla. A series of caves aside a mountain, full of upright & lying Buddhas, of all sizes but not of varieties. And the busiest tourism honeypot we’ve witnessed so far.

The final stop on our three day tour is the Silver Temple of Ridi Vahara. A monk leaving as we entered asked how we knew about the temple; they have only recently advertised in guide books. Ahhhh. Kaff & I agreed this was our favourite, as it appeared to be almost ‘off piste’ (for you Max), nobody there & stunning relics, incl. my favourite doorway (not pictured here).

Climbing higher

Sunday was given to The Museum of The Tooth, wherein we didn’t find the sacred tooth, allegedly left as one of the eight parts of Buddha post-cremation. We’d allegedly seen another, his (tuft of) hair, in that temple in Colombo. The tooth is allegedly inside a cask which, Russian doll-like, is inside several casks, but even the outer cask was locked away when we visited. That didn’t seem to deter the queues & offerings of so many worshippers. I felt like an intruder, a common feeling on my visits to religious places.

For lunch we had a dhosa & another one at another place for dinner. Think Crepe Suzette, but not the yucchy sweet coz it’s savoury, sometimes with a curry filling, accompanied by pickles, dhal & other ‘dips’. Fine fare & silly cheap, maybe £2 or £3 per meal. We also went looking for another of Bryony’s recommended eating holes, The Imperial Hotel. The telephone number wasn’t valid & the hotel seems to have disappeared! We did find one all shut down & sad, so maybe that used to be it. Hence a second Dhosa. Had to work for that, didn’t I!

Kandy Lake is full of fish & maintains a large supply of ducks, egrets, cormorants & we even caught site of a baby kingfisher? Life is sweet for the fish catchers. End of. Continue reading “Sunday And Let The Tour Commence” →

Not exactly a propitious start to an holiday: after an easy two stop flight via Kuwait, we arrived at the exit point of Colombo airport minus my bank card, though I didn’t make that discovery until two hours later. Left it in the hole in the wall, didn’t I. Had to spend two hours ‘phoning bank to cancel  card, in between organising more credit for my phone.

Then we were guided by a stranger, who captured Kath, to & all around a temple & ended up paying double rate for tuk-tuk driver & 2k rupees for ‘guide’. Could have been worse – 235 rupees = £1. Our start reminded us it’s not good being a tourist in a new place when you’ve not slept for 24 hours. We have now had requisite sleep.

Colombo is …… a mess. Interspersed with a few Victorian & pre-18 century Dutch & Portuguese buildings, the majority are of unspecial concrete & brick designs. The part of the city known as Slave Island is a huge building site of tower blocks to be flats, hotels, restaurants etc., funded by the Chinese. Presumably, on completion it will be renamed.

Tomorrow we train up & into the centre of the island, to the old cultural capital Kandy, surrounded by tea plantations & from where we are due to visit Buddhas (some giant size) & other relics & natural phenomena from gentler centuries. Been reading the guide books. Though late 20th century activity had its meaner side on this island.

Food so far has been delightful and so inexpensive. And Kath has bought some gorgeous material, so she’s happy.

To The Mountains

An uneventful 24 hour crossing of the Cantabrian Sea brought us back to Portsmouth and a traffic bound one hour extra drive saw us home. All well, except for the greeting of the Merc’s wing mirror being broken, exactly three weeks after it was broken the first time – thank you Max for organsing the first replacement. No forwards without some backwards. So insurance claims for the phone and for the car mirror.

Welcome home.

After the best meal so far – Peruvian Latino slant on Spanish fare – last night ended with a couple of craft beers and then a stolen phone (mine). This morning was spent going to the police station, then to another police station to obtain the police report which should enable the insurance replacement to be easy. Bum!

So to cheer us up, we went to the transporter bridge by metro, crossed over the river in style and returned on the metro running on the other side.

On the way back, we stopped off at the funicular railway for a journey up one of the mountain sides; Bilbao is built along a valley and occupies land at the bottom, on the sides and at the top, too. It is Spain’s fourth biggest city and certainly one of its most height defying. This was the view from El Mirador, the mountain top view, with The Guggenheim far below. Apparently, we were over 1,000 metres up. The funicular’s journey seemed longer.

We visited the mighty Gugg yesterday, shortly after arriving in town. Its architecture is still so stunning but we were underwhelmed with its temporary exhibitions. Art! What can you do?

And Home

A walk along the Turia riverbed was a gentle saunter of an introduction to off-time Valencians. They walk, run, bike, play soccer, rugby, baseball, skateboard, electric scooter, much like everyone else, but never seen so many electric scooters. And on a Sunday, the “lifeblood” of the city is very busy.

A tour of the Modern Art Museum, aka IVAM, was headed by a cartoon around the walls from Paco Roca, whose work we’ve previously admired, not least at Tate Modern. He’s a local Valencian lad.

Unlike Saturday in hip Russafa, the area is not heaving on a Sunday, so our dinner at El Camarino was unpressured. At least, until about 10.30; these Spanish eat late, a 11pm start is not unusual!

Along came Monday, so rearwards journey begins with a drive to Zaragoza. The old town features a huge square adjacent the city’s huge Basilica/Cathedral. We checked: cathedral is the centre of worship of a diocese, basilica is just a favourite church. This city has a two in one, as per photo.

There’s a lift up one of the corner towers, so of course ….. us suffering men to be tested by testes. Is that why they’re so called? At the end of the square was a waterfall sculpture, apparently inspired by the Spanish speakers in North & South America’s. Excellent, once you’d been informed of its subject matter.

There’s also an exhibition about Goya, who came from just down the road. Not great fans, but the exhibition dealing with his Caprice series was a clever use of black, white, light and dark and digital. We’ll, so says I.

Tuesday was another drive to Bilbao, where we’re staying for two nights before the 24 hours ferry to Portsmouth. We love Bilbao. Even if it’s a bit of a nightmare to drive down into the old town to find the guest house; then the drive back up out then back down again to the car park, is a journey of 20 mins by car, 5 mins by foot. Worth it though. The guesthouse has a beautiful wooden staircase that could well be 400 years old. The old quarter dates from medieval times, though it was substantially rebuilt after flooding in 1983. You wouldn’t know it.

Going to check out the Vizcaya transporter bridge (world’s oldest) this time, complete with car carrying gondola, at the mouth of the river Nervion. It’s similar to the Newport (Gwent) one, which also still works.

Sting in the Tale

Second day camping – mildly more awake after earplugged night – spent in the city’s truly amazing science and culture park.

If ever there was a statement of a local authority’s intent to create legacy, this is it. And the newest building is already 13 years old, though it doesn’t look it. Admirable in almost every way.

Then there’s the riverbed. Back in 1957, the city elders got together with the surrounding farmers and agreed to reroute the river Turia, cause of frequent floods, into seven different channels. So now the Turia’s riverbed features a swathe of green that goes right through the city and provides gardens, leisure parks and  space for those futuristic buildings, aka The Science Park, surrounded by about two feet depth of water. Beautiful, indeed.

We spent all of one day in parts of the Science Park, mostly in its so impressive Science Centre, the most eye catching of these new buildings. And the night saw us in The Jimmy Glass Jazz Bar, listening to not that good a quartet; the highlight was when the guitarist turned round and complained to a section of the audience that he could hear more of them than of his own music. If that had happened in one of my promoted gigs, the guitarist would have been asked to leave. If he’d been brilliant, I might have suggested otherwise, but he really wasn’t like a Keith Jarrett other than in temperament.

Today we’ve been sunbathing on the beach because it’s due to be cloudy tomorrow. It is blue sky 29° today. And tonight we’re off to Cafe Mercedes Jazz to see another band, which we hope is better than last night’s. We did have some extraordinary Rioja last night and a couple of beers at midnight, out in one of the street cafes where our bedroom, part of a seven floor hostel of rooms, is located. Indoors suffering today.

Birthday Boy