We’re up and at it early this morning. We have a train to catch so we are told the out time has to be extremely strict. For some reason I thought the train station was here in our little English town in the mountains. But I was mistaken. It seems that it is about 40 mins off the side of the mountain. Im serious. It is one of the hairiest rides ive ever taken. Again, we are in a bus. A BUS. But we are driving like were in an F1 livery. Switch backs at each turn. A 500 foot drop off one side or the other of the bus at all times.
Gary is in rare form this morning. He cant hear a damn thing. It’s like his hearing aids are set to Japanese and were all still speaking English. And at times I feel like he says what just for the fun of it. Once the driving starts to scare the crap outa me I tell everyone to put on their seatbelts. And he says, “welts from what?” And Nicole says “SEATBELT” and he says, “NO I don’t want to feel them”, and then we all scream SEATBELT, and he spends about 10 minutes fumbling around to find the end of his seatbelt…I say, “you know what… except you. Don’t worry about it.”.
After we’re sufficiently shaken, we finally reach the train station. This train will take us across the top of the mountains to a trendy town called Ella. Our guide gives us some instructions about tickets and staying together, and tells us not to panic on the concourse- which immediately makes me panic. What does he mean by that exactly? But when we get out and we reach the platform we understand. There are a LOT of people- all clambering to get on board, even though we all have tickets- he mentions the particular race of people. I wont. But he’s not wrong. It’s like they are going to miss the train….even though it doesn’t leave for another half hour. As we board the train one woman in particular pushes Nicole out of the way like she’s a line backer. Full body checks her into a seat to get ahead of her. Again, even though we have assigned seats. It’s insane. We find our seats and settle in for the show. Quickly realizing that the show starts even before we leave the station. We are at the front of the train- near the front doors, and a few feet up from that the front cab. If you look out the windows of the front cab, you can see whoever is leaning out of the doors at the entrance/ exit. And the family of 6 in front of us, including the woman who pushed Nicole out of the way, have figured this out, and its like they are cats who just discovered the worlds best box. They are up and down like Gary’s hearing aid volume. One goes to the front door and the other to the cab, they take pictures. Then they switch. Then they do it again. And again. And again. Then they start everyone else doing it. By the time the train leaves the station there are several people hanging around the doors, waiting until the train moves so they can do the same with it speeding down the track-something we were warned not to do. As we get moving, the scenery gets more and more beautiful- mountainsides lined with tea bushes, mixed with palm trees. Crazy tall pine trees filled with monkeys and exotic birds. All very hilly, but not high, just close to the train and flat.
The conductor of the train comes back and asks if Id like my picture taken out the cab….chris gets very excited. Wants me to do this so I can paint it later. So I hop up. It’s the conductor- what could do wrong. Ill just lean out and take a picture. Easy. So I go to the front and he leads me to the cab, and grabs my phone. Then another man takes me by the hand and leads me back to the doors. Starts to instruct me on how to lean out of the doors. Nope. I tell him im too afraid to do that. He says- no its easy. And places my hands on the rails outside the door. No…not going to happen. And before I can say it again, his arm is around my back and he pushes me out. I. Am. Terrified. I lean out with his hands holding me onto the rails. Im thankful that there is no drop, because im shaking- if he wasn’t holding on to me I think id have trouble keeping a grip. He says to look in front of me-towards the front of the train, and I see my phone dangling dangerously outside the cab with the conductor holding my precious baby taking pictures of me which I’m sure look similar to when Henry holds his head out the window on his way to Nicoles to see Sophia. I scream, “let me back in!!!” And the man lets go of my back. All smiles. He thinks this is what I want…a nice picture of the moment I died. I pull myself back in and walk up to the cab-demand my phone. And he tries to get me to pay for it. I point to Chris. My convict looking husband (who by the way has a big smile on his face like a Labrador retriever having no idea what just happened.). GIVE ME MY PHONE. And he does without a fight. I go back up to my seat, shaking. And tell Chris the story. As im talking about how scared I was, I look at the pictures he got, and yes. I look like a dog hanging out the window….only on its way to the vet not his friends house. The look on my face is sheer terror. Like im doing that scene from Phycho and about to be stabbed to death. As I’m deleting, we enter a tunnel, and as we are speeding through it one of the conductors comes by and says- “get your cameras ready- good view when we exit.” I do, feeling like maybe it’s another trap and were going to start a rollercoaster decent. But he’s right. As we exit the tunnel, phones ready to go, we are graced with the most beautiful sight. A valley below-hundreds of feet to the floor. Dizzying. Mountains filled with rows and rows of tea plantations. I cant even see the track we are on, and how we are this high without wings. It is stunning. And my heart sinks as I think about having hung out those doors just moments before.
Then the progression of people starts. It seems I was alone in my fear. Woman after woman, men in tow, come clambering to the front of the train for their chance to defy death. And one by one, they hang out the side of the train while the conductor takes their picture. Some are braver then others. Swinging by one arm, with the other and a foot dangling out the door. Some do it front on, some back on. A few people do it together, man hanging out, with his woman laying on top of him. Our guide gets up, clearly having not seen what happened earlier thank goodness, and says that none of us should attempt this, as they loose a few people a year like this. Just 3 months ago a woman died getting hit by a light as she hung out. You cant see the obstructions coming often until its too late. I slink down in my seat. How could I be so dumb as to get roped into that??? Im thankful I was at least hesitant, and finally said NO loud enough for them to let me back in the train. The others continue to do this the entire way to Ella. But we don’t pay much attention to them…the scenery is just so breathtaking. It continues over bridges and into and out of tunnels. The scenery better at every turn, and higher, snaking its way to towns and plantations below. Absolutely incredible views. I must have taken 200 pictures- each more stunning then the last. Trains are scenery overload for me. I see things in perspective most of the time, doing the artist thing. Doing the drawing calculations in my head when I see something worth committing to memory. And in a train you see the trees closest moving so quickly, and the landscape in the back ground moving slowly, and it never gets old for me, this one being particularly memory worthy.
We leave the train after about 2 hours, im dreamily looking out the window for most of that. We make our way back to the bus waiting for us. I can only imagine the hairy ride the driver and his helper must have had trying to race us here. But I don’t need to imagine, because as we pull out and I hear the engine rev, I know were in for it again. And we are. Another hour of twists and turns worthy of bush gardens. Then the road flattens out, and the drive becomes the old chicken routine, us challenging oncoming busses to a race to see who can pull in last after passing. Another hour later and we arrive at a pottery museum and school for lunch. Yup you read that correctly. It’s a combo school, museum, and restaurant. I cant begin to tell you how much room I would need if I bought all the pieces I wanted- having a strong weakness for pottery. But instead we buy chicken sandwiches and beers. Okay and maybe a few small pieces J
Then we are pickled into jeeps for our next adventure. A safari. We will see our precious elephants. If wild elephants are on offer, in any country, we will be there. Sign us up. Bring the apples. So we climb into the jeeps, trunk monkeys as usual all in the two back rows, with the two brothers from New Zealand in the row in front of us, and off we go. These jeep outfits are speckled all around the base of the national park, and ours seems to be old hat, knowing the guards at the first checkpoint and the roads like the back of their hands. We don’t get very far before we see our first Ellie, She is a full grown female, but she is SO SMALL conmpared to the napal elephants and certainly compared to Africa. And her ears are so much smaller then we’ve seen also- she is like a little pocket Elephant. I can hear the iconic music- the voice- “the south asian house elephant eats peanut butter toast and leaves crumbs as a trail to the laundry it prefers to nest in”. We are shreaking with giggles everytime we see one. Our driver plows on- he’s no Lyton From South Africa -if you’re an avid reader you’ll remember him as the handsome suave African Jason Stathum type who id choose to be my protector and guide anywhere anytime for any reason whatsoever- leaping our safari jeep over trees and canyons, spotting chameleons from 1\2 a mile away 30 feet off the ground in the dark, staring down leopards in trees, pouring me a very strong gin and tonic every night while on safari, and then tearing off his shirt and disappearing into the bush to pee on all the trees and mark his territory just to let the lions know who the real king is…..sorry…what were we talking about again?…oh right….so yeah, this guy isn’t him. But he DOES know what he’s doing, and knows all these dirt roads very well. Everytime we spot an elephant he stops and lets us giggle and take pictures. This is literally, as I said, a national park, so these animals are free to roam- and they seem completely undisturbed by us and the sounds of the jeeps. If they were, they would simply leave. But here they are watching us watch them, happy enough. We spot lots of birds, peacocks (or as the Sri Lankans call them murder pretty’s. Ok they don’t call them that, but apparently they are a whole thing and will attack people, but they also kill snakes with their strong feet and claws, so Nicole has decided they are her national bird). Then we continue on and see a few lizards, a hawk, and some toucans. After driving for about 20 minutes, we speed around a large rock that is sharply sticking up off the ground, and the entire world opens up- a huge lake in front of us, with the mountains behind them that we just drove from. Clouds at their peaks, that blue and dark grey, Paynes grey-my favorite art kit staple Color, against the green of the trees, and the blue sky above us, vivid, making it feel like we are seeing it all through an instagram filter. And speckled all around the lake are elephants with their babies. Tiny little sweeties. They are eating and walking- chatting im sure about their day. They eat in a way we’ve never seen- in Africa the elephants were eating the leaves off of small trees, most times reaching up to grab a branch and tearing all the leaves off of it. In napal, they would take down even medium sized trees and eat the wood of the branches loudly after using them to swat away flys. Here, the elephants kick at the grass on the ground, expertly lifting its roots from the soil, and gathering it in a small pile before using its trunk to thow it in their mouths. You can see the moms are teaching the babies to do it, them not as agile at it yet, but trying their best. The moms also seem to want to get between the jeep and the babies, protecting them from the paparazzi. Elephants are just incrediable, always making family their number one, absolutely nothing comes before each other. A great lesson for all of us I think-if only we could be more like elephants- watching out for each other and sticking together no matter what.
We continue on around to the other side of the lake and we see more elephants, stopping to let them walk towards the jeep. One walks so close to us for a particularly tasty spot of grass that if we tried hard enough we could reach out and touch her. But we just watch of course and eventually get out of her way, driving onwards down a small tributary. There we see a baby crocodile- im not going to call it cute. But it would certainly be the preferred size if I was told I needed one. Hes actually pretty hard to spot on the grass, they blend in perfectly. As we drive on we bounce and shift over the uneven ground of the road, you can tell they carve new paths as needed as the river comes and goes with the rainy season- we are pivoting into the dry season now. At the end of the road we see an opening, and gasp as a concentration of huge crocodiles- and I mean big-come into view. All mouths open basking in the late day sun on the side of the river bank that eventually leads to the lake. They are a good 12 – 13 feet long….and Nicole tells us that the Nile Crocodiles that they saw in Egypt were 40 feet long. 40 feet long. The length of a 4 story building. No one says anything. Until I say, “and that’s why Gary is such a lucky man”. Then everyone giggles- all thinking the same thing- the two New Zealanders giggling the hardest. Math never was her strong suit. Apparently neither is approximating length. I google it, and the longest crocodile ever recorded was just over 20 feet. Perhaps she’s getting mixed up with the prehistoric crocodiles 110 million years ago that Gary saw as a child, those’re were massive and about 40 feet long. Either way, these guys are intimidating. Our guide tells us that while the crocodiles have their mouths open the “crocodile bird” which is a type of plover, cleans its teeth, picking out and eating the decaying meat that is stuck between them. The manager in me is trying to figure out how I can monetize this…. So there they sit, these left over dinosaurs, waiting for their hygiene appointment. Murder lizards. I will say they put a small shiver down my spine- and I worry I will jump out of the jeep to go touch one, like I worry everytime im on a tall building that ill jump off. It’s that kind of dangerous and intruiging. We see a few more birds, some rabbits, and then several elephants on the way out. One mom and baby are eating grass, except the baby is pretty done with this hunting expedition. He is over the grass. Hes kicking at the dirt and looks like he’s begging to go back home so he can play on his Nintendo. He starts sucking the fine sand up in his trunk, then putting the dirt in his mouth and blowing his cheeks out, like Codi used to do with his milk-my little white elephant, then he sprays it over his back. You can almost hear him saying MAAAAAAMMMMMMMMM CAN WE LEAVE NOWWWWWWW????? If you could possibly hear him over the giggles from my sister and I. Sometimes I get teary eyed. I picture me, a impish 2 year old, carrying my bottle around because I couldn’t possibly be more then 2 feet away from food at all times as a child….and an adult. Following my Nicole – because I couldnt possibly be more then 2 feet away from her at all times as a child….and an adult. 9 year old her Guiding me on some adventure or another-Demanding I spit out whatever it is I just put in my mouth. Im sure we were pretending we were on safari. I see it all dramatically set to music in my mind, us deciding while I was still in diapers that we’d do this. My advice to our younger selves? Yes. Just yes. Do it all the same. Even the mistakes. Because I worry that one small change would put us on some other course, the butterfly effect. And I cant handle not having this exact moment in time. We drive away from another safari, hand on the shoulder of my love-Nicole’s on Garys-them tethered to our dreams, I think happy enough so.
We pull out and back on the bus, a short drive to tonight’s hotel. It’s a lodge- and it is HOT. Maybe the hottest we’ve been yet, in fact, unlike us, we have trouble even sitting out on our deck, the humidity making everything stick, and making our hair even wilder then normal-helping with the picture in my mind of the children, hair stuck to our necks, faces red from being out doors all day. We share a bottle, but now its wine instead of milk. Me still on the bottle after all these years.
We pull away from the deck to go for dinner at a restaurant across the street from the hotel. The reviews on line said that this lodge didn’t have the best food ever, so Nicole researched and saw that a spot called The Spoon Family Restaurant was a good pick, and made us reservation-Even though as we arrive we see that those were completely unnecessary. Its adorable and small- the woman runs over to us as we enter and sees that we are her 7:30 guests arriving as promised. Tells us to pick any seat wed like- out of the 5 tables on offer in the empty establishment. We choose one by the fan and the street so we can see the comings and goings and also not die. We order tempura veggies to start, 4 beers- and egg roll bowls and honey glazed chicken. The woman’s name is Hanasha and she tells us to call her Hana. Introduces us to her husband who is also working there-the family part of their title. She keeps checking on us, and we are eating like we’ve never seen food before, safaris are hungry work. It is delicious, and as we pay, and then tip, they are thrilled-not used to tips I don’t think. But we are, and we don’t change just because were in another country. Her job is hard, and running a business is hard, and that deserves more then the $10 per plate that they are charging for home cooked meals. If I could urge everyone who travels to take the time to consider this. To consider that our wages on average are 10-20 times what theirs are. Our small tip took us maybe 5 minutes to earn at home, but takes them hours. So giving up $5 US for a well made meal may make them skip home. And if you have the ability to spread joy? Why wouldn’t you? Come up with a good reason….i dare you.
We move back across the street and go straight to bed. Exhausted from all the moving today. Up at at it early the next morning we are driving a lot. This is the last day of this epic tour of Sri Lanka- and we are making our way back to where it started, Colombo. We stop along the way for a bathroom break after driving through rice fields and palm trees, bridges connecting island after island through the interior of the tear shaped country. At the roadside stop we notice that there is a trinket shop and we beg VJ for a little more time -all us girls. He obliges and gives us 30 minutes. And Nicole and I set out on our mission. Peeing in record time. Securing the location of our credit cards and shopping bags we make our way to the shop and start piling up a shopping basket. As I said there hasn’t been much on offer – so we see this as our version of the super market sweep game show- 25 minutes to fill a cart and check out. On it. I buy dresses I hope fit and gifts for the people I can. Incense for the back deck this summer to remind us of our Sri Lankan adventure. We are the last ones back on the bus, hands full of bags, Gary offering cheap cheap deals if anyone is interested.
We arrive in Colombo an hour later, naps had and us ready for a tour. VJ brings us around the city and we see its even more modern than we had seen the last two times we came through here. Spas and salons, golf clubs and tall buildings. He takes us to a Buddhist temple in the middle of the city-whore covers for all of us at the entrance. Its filled to the brim with gifts to the Buddha that people have left upon their deaths. And I mean FILLED. And not just heirlooms. We’re talking BMWs. Snow globes. Clothing. Wheel chairs. Money. Jewelry. A stuffed gator (no joke). Paintings, watches, books, knee braces, silverware. If you can think of it its there. Everyone clambering at the last minute to gain favour with the Buddha-trying to earn some karma.
After this we give out our tips to the boys, the driver and the help. All thrilled to see it. Then they drop us off at the hotel we’ve stayed at now once already. Today is May Day. A national holiday. And no Alcohol can be served. But we’re professional CANADIAN muppets. So we have our stash all ready to go. We drop the luggage, fill up our sippy cups with red wine, and get our ourselves up to the pool meeting up with Julie and Natasha, two singles from the tour. The only two we really connected with. Although Natasha is quite quiet-from South Africa lives in Johannesburg now after moving from Cape Town. And as I’m sure people assume about us, she seems uninterested in making friends. But as I chat with her today, I find out her reason for being here on this trip-and likely her reason for being so quiet. She said that her and her best friend used to travel every year for their birthdays, but in 2024 her best friend was the victim of a shark attack off the coast of Cape Town while surfing- she was killed almost instantly when the beast attacked her. So she’s tried to continue on with her trips on her birthday. But it likely isn’t easy. We float around and share wine with them. Eventually, saying our final goodbye. Everyone has a reason for traveling. Each reason very personal. Some joy filled. Some sad. From here we do one of our favorite things on holiday-we try something familiar. Fast food. This time it’s Burger King usually it’s KFC. We walk in and order whoppers and french fries and always something new. this time It’s chicken wings. And we get Gary a hat of course- he stayed back in the room while Chris came as the protector for Nicole and I. You never know when somebody’s gonna wanna try to steal your whopper.
Back to the room for the illegal booze and whoppers. We catch a plane tomorrow at 7 AM. Which means we have to meet our driver at 3:30 AM. Which means we need to go to bed at least four hours ago. So we quickly down our last rum and Cokes. The next leg is a foot. And it’s a good one. Nothing but the best for Nicole and Gary’s 25th. I think they’ll be hard-pressed to beat Bali. But if I know Nicole, she’s gonna try her damnedest.
And she does.
Next blog is from paradise.
