Off we sped in the back of our taxi cab from the Colombo airport through walls of thick, honking traffic swerving in and out of lanes with little regard.
At this moment I wonder why they even paint white lines to separate lanes of traffic – It seems that no one pays any attention to them anyways. Traffic in these developing countries sometimes feels like a giant game of Mario Cart.
It’s 5AM Sri Lankan time and Megan and I are bagged after traveling for the better part of 2 days. After a lengthy cab ride we are greeted by a smiling middle aged Sri Lankan woman with a round face, gentle features, and wide eyes. She introduces herself as Harshi (our home stay host for the next 2 nights) and insists on carrying our backpacks up the 4 flights of stairs to our room. We kindly decline the offer and settle into our room. Minutes later Harshi is making us an elaborate Sri Lankan breakfast of eggs, roti, fruit, sausages, and wood apple juice.
Even though we are excited to explore our new surroundings we take a power nap to recharge our batteries before hitting the town (or rather city of 5+ million). My first impression of Colombo is much the same as other capital cities of Asia that I have visited. It’s congested, loud, and chaotic. We walk to the nearest railway station and catch the train to the downtown “Fort railway station”. The train is crowded – standing room only.
Train to Fort Station. That’s the top of Megan’s head close to the camera.
Immediately two Sri Lankan men get up and insist that we have their seats while they stand (a very kind gesture). Looking around the train its obvious to me that Sri Lankans take great pride in their appearance. Everyone is well dressed and well kept. The men are dressed in dark trousers with light dress shirts and the women are dressed in more colorful clothing with long flowing black hair. I’m at least 6-8 inches taller than everyone else on the train. The rusty train chugs on, running parallel to the emerald green Indian Ocean for fifteen minutes before jutting inland. Amazingly, these trains are still from the British colonial era. The same train we are riding in was built by the British nearly 100 years ago.
Upon our arrival we purchase our train tickets to Kandy ($5 Canadian) which is a 4 hour train ride into the hill country that we will be taking in the coming days. We take a peaceful stroll along the Indian Ocean through a popular Boardwalk called Galle Face Green before once again becoming lost in the bustling streets of Colombo. A local man, sensing that we may be misplaced, approaches us and provides us direction on how to get where we are going. He even hails a tuk tuk for us and negotiates a rate with the driver before sending us on our way with a wave and a smile. We arrive at Mt Lavinya Beach and immediately it starts pouring rain.
Dipping our feet into the Indian Ocean for the first time before it starts to rain.
We run into the nearest beachside restaurant and have a Sri Lankan Lion Beer, and a game of cards before returning to Harshi at the Frangipani home stay to retire for the night.
The next day we head to the bustling Pettah market. The pace of life is exhausting. Vendors of every discipline fight for their consumers attention amidst roaring background noise. We hear the Muslim 5 o clock call to prayer and turn a corner to see a giant candy cane colored mosque with fantastic architecture. One of the locals remarks to us that the mosque holds 10,000 worshiper at a time.
After moving to a more touristy district of Colombo we eat a lovely home cooked curry dish at a local restaurant and turn in for the night. I sense that both Megan and I feel somewhat lonely in Colombo. I’ve felt this same feeling numerous times in these humongous cities in the past. It’s almost like being in the middle of a busy bees nest without any friends near you or without any of the comforts of home(besides each other). The purpose of this blog is not to paint everything in a rosy light but rather to try to shed light upon what it’s like to backpack in a developing country.
After parting ways with our hospitable Colombo host we set out on the train to Kandy. I felt a bit guilty about riding in a first class car but at the same time really enjoyed the air condoning and relative peace and quiet in the train car (and at the price of $5 it’s tough to say no). The train wound through lush green rolling hills while a kooky Bollywood movie played on the TV screen in front of us. Upon our arrival in Kandy, we were slightly underwhelmed at our accommodations we had booked. The room was tiny, concrete, and cold feeling. The bed sheets were clean but stained and the air conditioner was broken. The overwhelming humidity in the room meant our bed sheets and pillows were damp to the touch.
Meg’s reaction after seeing our room.
I could tell by Meg’s silence that maybe she would book the next room…..
It wasn’t all bad. The included breakfast was delicious and the rooftop terrace made for easy visiting with other travelers.
String hoppers and Dhal for breakfast. Mmmmmmmmmm….
The front desk staff was helpful and booked us a wonderful driver at a fair price to explore the neighboring attractions the next day. His name was “Raj” and he greeted us warmly in the morning before setting off through the winding roads to “Sigirya” which is an ancient (built 1500 years ago) city built upon a towering rock in the middle of the Sri Lankan highlands.
Sigiriya
The 1.5 hour walk to the top was packed with people. Mostly locals but also many tourists. The entrance fee to this Unesco Heritage Site was $45 Canadian each!!! Ouch!
On the way back home we stopped at another heritage site – The cave temples at Dambulla. Here humungous caves have been turned into a Buddhist temple filled with monuments, statues, and cave paintings. It was absolutely outstanding. Both of us really enjoyed it.
We witnessed many local people coming into the temple to pray and burn incense. Unfortunately, we have no pictures of inside the massive caverns because they ask that tourists do not take pictures inside their places of worship. Pretty understandable.
But (unbelievably) that didn’t stop an arrogant French couple from snapping picture after picture without any regard for the local people praying beside them.
We returned to our guesthouse late in the evening and said our goodbyes to our fantastic guide Raj.
Raj and I
Raj presented me with a gift after finding out that I wanted to try the local tobacco. It’s called betel.
The local tobacco product. The green leaf below my hand is called betel, the orange chunks are called Areca nut, the pink plastic contains lime, and the brown stuff is tobacco.
Raj instructed me to take the betel leaf and wrap a small chunk of areca nut, tobacco, and lime inside of it. Then insert it into my cheek and chew it slowly. Before long it was all over my teeth.
Needless to say I looked like a real rookie. Perhaps this local tobacco is an acquired taste…..
Sri Lanka has so far been amazing. We have now just arrived in a town called Nuwara Eliya and it is stunning. Our accommodations are cheap, the room is fantastic, and life here is getting better by the day.
Kamikaze Canuck 
