This morning we leave the comfort of the private pool and the incredible Tabbula Rasa staff and head back to the noise of the city- Colombo, to meet our tour group for the rest of our time in Sri Lanka. We’ll be in Colombo a few times, the city kind of feels like its old 70s mystery show name sake- it keeps popping back up into our trip and saying “and one more thing before I go….”.
After one last amazing breakfast, and a morning in the pool before throwing everything in our suitcases-still wet and in no particular order-The entire staff including my masseuse and Maxie the dog come out to say goodbye. Hugs all around- and waves at the gate. Driving away Nicole says she has a lump in her throat.
We pay our driver for the day an extra cash amount (about $20) and he agrees to take us to downtown Galle to the fort on the way.- the thing we opted not to do yesterday -staying in the womb of our luxury room for the day instead. It is interesting- but for once perhaps a little too hot even for us. 38 degrees, all 38 of those are like a hot wet blanket-the heat worn more then felt. Sitting by the ocean doesn’t even cut it, – we tried…. But in the end we only stay long enough to get a few pics and go to a grocery store for some snacks and a quick bathroom break before settling in for a nice scenic drive. And within 4 minutes of getting back in the van we are all asleep like tiny little babies. Snoring and drooling. We wake just long enough to see an elephant on the side of the road as we enter the city! Just standing there! Eating grass on the shoulder. Reminds me of when we arrived in Kruger in SA and saw a giraffe on our drive, as if it were normal. But the jet lag powers are strong….so that’s still not enough to keep this group awake ….all snoring again within seconds of seeing the beast. When our driver clears his throat very loudly and we realize we are pulling into our hotel, it seems like we transported here like Star Trek characters.
We are led to a nice room on the 9th and highest floor of the guest area, and our rooms are lovely. Clean, with a great view of the city. Although I can’t seem to find our private pool……
After a nice ATM and wine/beer run basically next door- we are back to the room to share a bottle of wine and wait for dinner. But when we go to eat at 5:30 we are told it doesn’t open until 7pm`- so back to the room for more wine. What could go wrong? This is how the muppets get into several pickles… we’re responsible tonight though…mostly…we watch the comings and goings of the city from our high perch. 2 million people here in Colombo. And it’s a Saturday night. So everyone is out and about. We watch the big Lotus Tower light up (its like the “made in Sri Lanka” version of the CN tower) and giggle about the past 3 days and how quickly they flew by. and we make it to dinner at approximately 7:01 and order pizzas and beers, fries and Thai soup. The food here has been excellent, and were happy to see that wasn’t just at our resort-its continuing.
Our sleep is good- but we have to be at the bus for 7am sharp tomorrow with our bags “ downstairs for 6am. Yikes. So we make that work, but there may have been some cursing and not a lot of hair prep. I don’t see the point in even trying to straighten my hair, because the minute I step out in this heat I look like Ted Nugent, wether I take 2 hours ironing it or not.
We meet our group piece by piece- there are only 12 of us, and all Australians, New Zealanders and South Africans. Seems like a very nice bunch. And with such a small crew, it’s usually easier to get from place to place and there is less waiting. And the good news is there isn’t a clinger in sight (see Japan 2025). We travel for about 1.5 hours to our first stop, and again we are all asleep within 2 seconds of the bus starting up. We missed the debriefing yesterday where our guide was met and some tips/tricks were given-for some reason it wasn’t communicated to us that there was a meet up time-him apologizing when we finally got to meet. But apparently in that meeting he clearly instructed that we were visiting temples today-and would need everything we wear to be below the knee and have covered shoulders. Nicole and I stroll in in our shortest skirts with our shoulders on full display. Even the boys knees are out. Savages. So as we start at our first stop, we get wrapped in blankets (whore covers) by our guide-VJ. We walk up about 200 steps to see an old temple inside caves in the rocks. They were discovered and quickly excavated back in the late 1800s. But to be honest, im distracted by the fact that im wrapped in a blanket in the hottest weather I’ve ever experienced. It feels like a sauna. And on top of that, we had to take our shoes off. And I’m not wearing socks. And the floor is lava. I mean hot boiling magma. I am leaving parts of my feet on every tile- its like someone is starting a curry on this temple floor and threw in some white peoples for aromatics. Im literally running from shade to shade pushing small children and old ladies out of the way as I go-payback for all those lobsters I’ve boiled over the years if I’m looking at this from a karma perspective. And adding even more danger- instead of the Delhi belly we all had in India a few years back, we all have Colombo Bumbo. Its similar. Its like when you have a cold, and you keep blowing your nose…and your like-WHERE IS ALL OF THIS COMING FROM. You know cats? And “I fits I sits”? Well this is like that….but “I sits I shi….”…..you get the idea”.. Although I don’t remember screaming in foot blister agony and jumping around cast iron floored temples in India. Let me tell you, those two don’t mix-the jumping and the bumbo. Its like I’m the digestive version of a ninja blender. The best part is that they also make the boys wear skirts. Because knees are sexy apparently.
Any way, I digress. There are Buddha after Buddha in the temple. I picture the first Sri Lankan saying, “I wonder if I could carve and store a Buddha in here in this tiny little space.” And the next one saying,”I bet I can too…” and then the next..”here. Hold my curry” and so on. There are SEVERAL MANY Buddhas. And then several many more. And so on and so on. I will say they make me happy for some reason. When I see them they remind me of times we’ve spent at different locations around the world…. The 20 or so Ive collected around the world that I keep at home. A reminder that in every country there is some ritual, some deity, some blessed figure, that some culture is expecting its children to worship with them. with the pre-appointed fervour it expects. All dependant upon which country you were born in, and which form of worship – at best- resonated with you— or at worst- was expected of you. Travel is and has always been the thing that opens me up the most and can at times make me feel most bound.
We start to meet the group of people well be spending the next week with as we walk around the temple. There are the two brothers from New Zealand. Very pleasant and curious, they will be the questioners for the trip. And then we meet Julie. She’s from Melbourne- and stunning. Effortlessly pretty and put together. Traveling alone and id say about 50? She is here for a friends birthday party in Galle next week- so killing time on a tour until then. She also has to wear a whore cover because her knees are particularly suggestive. We tell her our names, me saying, “im Karen, but don’t worry im a good Karen” and she roars with laughter. It was kind of a test to see if she’d known what I was saying, Im so glad to see that this Karen foolishness had stretched all the way to Australia. Sigh, its hard out here. Gary asks her, about 15 seconds after she already answered me, where she is from. And she is kind of taken back…since he was a mere 2 inches away when she just answered that. So she say,”eerrr….melbourne?”. Gary says, “oh really? I’ve never heard of Errmelbourne.” She says, “yes its in the south of Auatralia. Closer to Tasmania.” “Oh interesting.” She asks if he’s ever been. He says yes.
He hasn’t.
Im going to super glue his hearing aids in his ears.
After I do my circus act hot coals walk back to the bus, we drive to our next hotel for the night. Its about a 2 hour drive, which of course we sleep though. But I decide that I cant handle Chris touching even the littlest part of my arm. This is about the hottest ive every been. So, I ask if hell sit up in the row ahead of us. It’s where we’ve been storing our bus bag- the heavy nap sack that has all the things we need in it. And although I was suggesting he move those bags and put them in another row (there are only 12 of us on the tour as I said), he decides to ensure we don’t touch each other at all for the next week, and says, “well I can sit with you and be crowded, or I can sit up here…either way ill be sitting next to a gigantic bag”.
Wait,
What?
He instantly knows what he’s said. And try’s to back track. But its too late. This gigantic bag is pissed. The irony is that this man with that mouth doesn’t even know where his underwear are packed. Like, couldn’t find you his other shoes if his life depended on it. He’d be dead in 14 hours if I wasn’t with him. And he is knows it. All the Color drains out of his face. Or maybe that’s just his face. Needless to say, the bag he sits next too for the rest of today’s journey doesn’t have much to say. But at least he has half a chance of putting something in her in the next week.
The hotel we arrive at for tonight is a jetwing hotel. And let me tell you. This Jetwing guy knew what he was doing. The facility is stunning- again very Dutch and minimalist – stone and dark – just like I like it. The pool is VERY VERY WARM. Its out in the fresh air and is about as hot as you can imagine. We order beers delivered to the deck side and I get in, alone. The other muppets staying cool on the deck, yes, its that hot in the pool. I swim for a while, until I see the murder birds (bats) dipping down to get water. Then im out quicker then you can say tuk tuk. We watch the fantastic thunder and lighting storm from our seats at the pool- the sky fading into marmalade orange- white birds with gigantic wings flying by as if on cue while the streak lightening brightens up the backdrop of greenery all tangled around the lake in front of us. It feels like I should be hearing a voice over in beautiful Sri Lankan English at all times- this life feeling more like a movie then real most every May.
Once we pull ourselves away from the pool side at dark and we go change and meet for dinner. Another offering of perfect tuna and even better chicken in cream sauce. I did NOT see this on my Sri Lankan bingo car- all this good food. As much of a surprise as the amazon and Peru was with its Michelin star worthy foods.
Then we go back to Nicole and Garys room to discus the day and steel all their rum. Then to bed supposedly early, except there is a huge bathtub in this room. And that’s relatively rare for this part of the world- so I HAVE to get in. A nice cold bath is exactly what I need before tomorrow. Because tomorrow we are climbing a mountain. Or so my family is trying to peer pressure me into doing. Nicole and Chris are talking a lot a smack for two people who moan like porn stars every-time they stand up. Gary and I are more realistic and have decided that it will be a game day decision.
So up at the crack of dawn, we have breakfast and buy a few trinkets in the hotel lobby, and off we go to the bus. We were smart enough to wear the least clothing we could and still be accepted into public view. And sneakers. And when VJ tells us that its not that bad, this mountain, Gary and I decide that we are good to go and will attempt it with the two mountain goats we married.
I will start by saying, that im not opposed to exercise. Like, Im not like, a human sloth or something. But like, if you see me running towards you, drop whatever you have in your hands and start sprinting. Because something large or carrying a knife is chasing me. I have strength and endurance- ok, strength. But mostly Just not desire. Like, there are two types of people in this world. The type that feel accomplished when they climb things. And the type that feel accomplished with they make a good bolognese.
Guess which one I am.
So trust. I already know ive made a bad decision the minute we get off the bus. Although….as we are handed over to our Sherpa (ok that’s an oversell) I notice that he has on flip flops. This is making me feel better. They say its 1200 steps to the top of Lions Rock (also called Sigiriya). It’s a world heritage site and an ancient rock fortress build in 495CE and its 200 meters high. But I demand a freaking recount. Perhaps in US its 1200. Its at least 134682 steps in Sri Lankan. We start out and every time we reach a new plateau (approx every 20 steps) Nicole says, “see. We’re half way already!”. After we do that about 100 times, our guide tells us were ¼ of the way. Im going to murder my sister. Im drenched. The kind of sweating you do when your running a marathon. .on the sun. Like, im soaking wet. So is she. So is everyone. We stop after every 100 steps or so. The temp has to be about 35 in the shade. I can handle the steps, those are NOT the issue. It’s the heat. I have the legs of a long distance runner. I have the endurance of a 2 month old raised on grocery store goats milk. We make it to the first landing- that is half way up. And there is a medical tent. I wonder why. One of the lovely ladies in our group is done-giving up. Telling us to go without her-its been a good life. Shell meet us on the way down. At this point there are monkeys in the trees and dogs lazing about- both fighting for the shade and the fruit in the trees. This is where the lion feet are carved into the stone. And you know why? Because 1500 years ago they got this far and needed a project to keep anyone from making them go further. Julie decides to try some of the water on tap. Asks if we want some. ….how about we see if your still alive on the trek down……
Eventually, after we take some time to rest, we start back up the steps. Another 600 or so they say. Im guessing this is a total miscount. Im trump demanding a recount. Clearly they mailed in these step counts. There has to be at least 15000 missed steps counted.
On ward we climb until we finally reach the top. There are monkeys jumping everywhere and dogs, new and old greeting us.
We walk around for a few minutes-feeling accomplished and quite proud of ourselves. The view is impressive. This is where the king would get carried (why wasn’t I offered this option for upgrading?) and then he would pick from his 500 concubines as to who he would spend the night with. My guess is whoever was still alive.
Then the walk down starts and we realize that the worst is yet to come- knees are shaky from the weight of ourselves- at least 10 stone more then when we started out with the extra water held in our clothes. These items will have to be burned ceremonially at the end of day today. Remember when you were a kid, and you did a school field trip to the local pool? And you had to put your clothes back on wet after a good swim? We stop at the bathroom, and just simply peeing and putting clothes back on feels like this. After bathroom stops that feel like this day needs to be put in the spin cyclewe are still not done-There is more. We get back on the bus and the next stop is only a few feet away. We are going to a tradtional home in the middle of the jungle for lunch. So after driving for about 3 minutes, we arrive at a parking lot, where the locals have made actual roto tillers into tractors attached to carriages to transport us to boats, that then take us to a local home. Sketchy is how I would describe this at home. Quant is how I describe it here. The most beautiful woman demonstrates to us how to make real sambal oelek- something I use extensively at home. She crushes it and makes it by hand with chilis and tomatoes, onion and spices. Im mesmerized. Then cooks us a meal- the likes of which I would be more then proud to feed to anyone at home. Eggplants and okra. Curry’s and salad. It’s quite a spread- and we eat off banana leaves until we are full to the brim. She shows us how she harvests rice, and cleans it, grinds it with her stone contraception into rice flour. She is impressive, and suddenly my balsamic glaze doesn’t seem so show worthy.
We are Brought out of the forest by tuk tuks- these men so proud to show us their abilities and their vehicles.
Then back on the bus and brought to a herbory. That’s Herb-oh-ree. The man who is showing us around is the Sri Lankan equiviilant to the Oxy clean guy from infomercials. He is ALL ABOUT HERBS AND YOU SHOULD BE TOO. The Hulk Hogan of herbs. He is literally selling snake oil. And you I know what, my sister and I? We are what they are now referring to as target one and target two. He takes us through his herb garden- letting us smell the herbs. Most are very nice, vanilla and lotus, turmeric and ginger. At one point he gives us cinnamon bark to smell- each handed a little piece to rub in our hands and breath deeply into our lungs. I look at Gary and apparently he’s taking the stupid pills today. I see him pop all the bark into his mouth and chew it around like a deranged cow. Spitting and spatting and asking why anyone in the world would eat such a thing. Its often like we have a cabbage patch kid with us on our trip- cant hear for crap on account of his stuffing. Taken from the patch way too soon. Full of fluff and not much more. He’s still spitting out bark as we walk away pretending we don’t know this particular white guy.
They give us hand massages and neck massages. Knee massages and head massages. All the while explaining how the herbs they are using will cure everything from hair loss to belly buttons. You got a belly button you don’t want? No problem. Take this cream and use this potion and poof. Gone. You got the herpies? Take this Tamarand and this oil and poof. Gone. Boobs too big? Ear lobes too ear lobe-ee? Rub this on your tongue. Gone by tomorrow. And by god, by the time nic and I leave, we are the proud owners of Rhumatoid cream and menopause cures. What could go wrong. Ill let you know how our tale is coming in later…..
From here we make our way to the next hotel for the night. The Suisse. It’s lovely and old school- very colonial English mixed with charming Sri Lankan. As we walk in we are handed drinks. One is tamarind and one is citrus. We opt for the tamarind sourness…and I say, “that’s going to be good. Sweet and little sour.” . To which Gary turns to me and says, “noooo. You don’t need a shower……” and giggles. Nicole needs to write her name on this ones butt so we can put him away as a collectable. Wow.
We immediately ask for an upgrade so we can have a balcony. They oblige and for $25 US a night they give us a room on the forth floor- and as we are brought up, we see that there are no other guests up here. Not even a light on. We walk into the dark to find our doors. In fact, the one attendant wont really even follow us up the stairs, deciding to stay on the floor below and watch us walk into the hanuntness that is our future……..
We order room service tonight. Pizzas from a real pizza oven, French fries and ketchup. Rum all around. As we chat on our deck I do see a lot of bats flying around. But they’re off in the distance. Out of harms sway. And they don’t look very big. So im okay for now. I could get used to this little bat situation. They seem harmless enough. So we eat and drink, until its time for me to drag muppet number 2 back to the room for sleeps. Nicole needs to put her caggabe patch kid to bed too. He seems to be becoming vintage all to quickly. And Tomorrow is another day after all.
Were just getting started.
