Going Strong

Nora was hit by the travel blues more than one week ago, but has managed to recover in the mountains of Sri Lanka. In a tiny village, she found wireless Internet in a cafe playing Beatles music and is updating her blog while you read. You can look forward to many stories and colorful pictures.

Tranquility

Ella, Hill Country, Sri Lanka

The train ride to Ella was stunning. The views were so breathtakingly beautiful, I even forgot to take any pictures! Upon arrival, I had to jump on the tracks. A friendly man pulled me up on the platform. Of course he was a tuk-tuk driver. But he did not attempt to rip me off.

View from Ella

The town is so small, you can walk through in a matter of minutes. Lovingly referred to as "downtown Ella", I felt at ease walking along the one street and stopping every few meters to speak to the people who own the small cafes and shops.

"Downtown Ella"

Dream Cafe - great dinner spot

Ella Village Restaurant

Nescoffee Cafe - great daytime hangout!

Nilmini Rest

This little mountain village is home to some of the hot spots in the country. Little cafes offer an excellent mix of Western and Sri Lankan food, wireless Internet, and funky sounds to swing to. Across the (relatively quiet) street are traditional tea shops and tiny all-you-need shops.


The view from my guest house up a steep hill is stunning. At Ella Gap is where the mountain range opens allowing a view on the hills rolling out towards the coast. To the left "Little Adam's Peak" and to the right "Ella Rock" make the picture perfect. Except for some easy hikes, there is not much else to do here. And that's the beauty of it!

Little Adam's Peak

Ella Rock

View to guest houseRice fields

My guest house has a huge terrace where the days pass by talking to fellow travellers over pots of ceylon tea. Here is where I released my thoughts and let the writing flow. And I just can't get enough of looking out to the mountains.


In Ella I found peace.

Cure

When people ask me about my plans for the next day, I usually do not know. After I wake up I decide. Today I felt like moving on. I had to decide between Adam's Peak and Ella, both in the hills. Ella won because my legs were still sore from the hike of the previous day. I wanted to take the 12.30pm train. Over breakfast the manager of the guest house came up to me and offered a ride in one of his cars. Knowing that this will cost a lot more money than the train, I smiled at him and declared that I could probably not afford. 'Oh, just give whatever you think.' Though I really wanted to take the train - the views were meant to be even more spectacular - I shrugged my shoulders and said why not. Then he hesitated and said '1,000 Rs, it's okay?' I smiled again and reminded him that he had just offered me to give as much as I wanted after the trip. I spoke to the driver for a while and got ready for the departure at 12.30pm.

At 12.20pm, the manager came up to me saying that there is a slight problem. I smiled in anticipation for the not-so-good news. 'The car is broken down and they are trying to fix it.' Okay, I thought, maybe a delay of 1 to 2 hours. 'We may not be able to fix it today.', he added. What? I thought of my train that was leaving in just that moment. What are my options? 'Option 1: You can stay here another night.' Not an option, I had already packed. 'Option 2: You take the train at 4pm.' At this moment, I was kicking myself for not having sticked to my original plan. It wasn't so bad that the car drive did not work out, but the fact that I would arrive after dark and that the people from this guest house really didn't care. I left way in time for the next train. The ticket counter in Nanu Oya was closed, so I knocked on the window. 'Tickets 3.30' was the response. I was fed up, just wanted to leave. The train was late too. I boarded with a grim face.

The people around me were not smiling either. That's it, a really bad day. When I looked in their eyes, they stared back with an empty look, especially the women. Strange, I thought, spoiled by the otherwise never-ending warm looks. I stuck my nose in the book, trying to ignore everything else. Then, something funny happened: A man and his kid on the other end of the compartment were hectically searching for something. They settled without success. Few minutes later, I felt something touching my toes. A big yellow fruit. I had seen the kid playing with it before. I picked it up and brought it to the little boy. He looked at me and gave me the biggest smile. I literally felt my heart melting and had no choice but to smile back. Then the father added an even bigger smile. When I returned to my seat, the look in the women's eyes around me had changed. The soft brown eyes looked content and they nodded at each other, then shared their endless smiles. Finally, everything was in balance again. What had seemed almost hostile a few minutes ago had turned into a welcoming world of warmth. And the key to their smiles rested with me.*


* This was the moment I remembered the words of the receptionist in Anuradhapura. I made a pact with myself to greet annoyance with a smile, at least as long as I am in this beautiful country.

Heritage

I started the day with an early morning trek to the Single Tree Hill just behind my guest house. After 5 minutes, the path ended at the Teabush Hotel. The friendly staff directed me to a staircase leading right into the tea plantation. I followed the tea pluckers' paths winding up the hill while the hotel staff were still standing there and waving at me. At the top of the hill, the view over Nuwara Eliya, the lake and the mountain range was breathtaking. I sat under a big tree and indulged on some strawberries and a guava. There was no soul in sight and I enjoyed the silence of being alone. I discovered that the tree was used for prayers and offerings. A small altar had been installed at the foot of the tree.

I continued my walk across the hill top. The views on the other side were blocked by massive satellite towers and a barking dog chased me downhill. I followed a gravel road passing a temple and a monastery. A tea plucker was waving at me as I took some pictures. When I came closer, suddenly one of the tea pluckers jumped in front of me and posed herself 'photo, photo'. I suspected that she was expecting money, so I made clear that I only had my camera. She insisted on her photograph being taken, followed by many other women. Knowing that their work is very hard - they must pick 50kg of tea leaves every day for little money - I suddenly felt guilty for my leisure morning walk. All I could offer them was a smile.


In the afternoon, I visited another remainder of the colonial times: the Victoria Garden had been founded by the English over 100 years ago. Hungry, I aimed for a park bench to unpack my lunch. I had not yet taken the first bite - and when I am hungry I am not particularly social - when one of the men working at the park approached me. The usual question catalogue followed. My answer to whether I like Sri Lanka, chewing on my street food: 'Yes, but sometimes people talk a little too much. Sometimes, I just want to sit and eat in peace instead of answering many questions. Sometimes I don't want to talk.' He wiggled with his head, smiled and concluded that maybe it was better to leave.

All Business

Nuwara Eliya, "City of Light", Hill Country, Sri Lanka

I took the early train from Kandy to Nuwara Eliya, looking forward to peaceful days high up in the hills, surrounded by tea plantations. The train ride was supposed to be spectacular. Though I paid for a second-class ticket, I ended up in third class. But I didn't mind, as long as I had a seat and it was even by the window! I enjoyed the views and forgot all about my travel blues. The magic was done like so many times by a small boy who more or less accidentally sat on my lap, paired by his sisters' giggling and his mother's content smile. Three beautiful teenage daughters snuggled onto their mother and in my mind I took a picture of that scene. Upon arrival, the touts were - as expected - all over me. Already on the train platform, they greeted me with persistence. They had just dropped off some guests, and offered me a ride into town for only 100 Rs. 'So why don't you offer me the ride for free?', I asked. Sheepishly, one after the other disappeared. I boarded the mini-bus for 18 Rs and had a pleasant non-business focussed conversation with a teacher. Again, I was more than happy to have chosen public transportation, despite the heavy luggage.

My chosen guest house - King Fern Cottage - was unavailable, so I opted for the Single Tree guest house. I was offered a noisy room near the reception area, but didn't mind as it was clean and the staff was friendly. The manager was a bit too business-centered for my taste, but soon noticed that I wasn't one of the many customers to spend horrendous amounts of money to go hiking. I walked into town and bought some soul food (kothu roti!) for dinner. Back at my guest house, I was invited for a drink by two friendly Dutch men, Pieter and (another) Geert. We chit-chatted a little before passionately exchanging on our professional development paths. Though we worked in different fields, our thought patterns were quite similar. We had given up security for new challenges and more meaningful engagements. After an hour or two, they invited me to join them for a hike in Horton Plains the next day (a trip that otherwise costs 3,000-5,000 Rs for the required driver). For me, the hike was not so important, rather I was looking forward to spend more time with them.

Pieter casually dropped this 'information' to his private guide, a Sri Lankan friend of over 15 years. His face froze and he made clear that it was impossible to take me along. Shocked by the reaction, we all thought this must be a misunderstanding. He justified his statement by not wanting to take away business from the manager of my guest house. When this argument did not really convince us he revealed the real reason for his disagreement: Earlier that day, he had 'invited' two English ladies - of course for a fee - to join the hiking trip. The two Dutch friends had not been happy because they were on a private trip and did not even know these ladies. Now he felt disrespected about their decision that I could go along. They argued that this case was different, as they were the ones inviting me. From his aggressive tone, I noticed that the Sri Lankan friend was drunk. He insisted and decided that he was not going to let me join. In anger, Pieter got up and left while Geert tried to fix the situation with his mediation skills. The Sri Lankan friend now made patriotic statements. I felt increasingly uncomfortable and left the situation, assuring Geert and Pieter that I did not want to cause any trouble. Because their friend was too drunk, they could not find any reason in him.

What shocked me most was the fact that a long friendship could be shaken by a small incident, based on a lost business opportunity. Taking into account the arrak (local rum) and some other complexities about their friendship that I may not have been aware, every encounter seemed to be about business. Even friendships seemed worth nothing when it came to making money. Still in disbelief the following day, I was glad not to see this person again, though I regret the lost opportunity of exchanging more thoughts with the two Dutch.

Inspiration

The following day, I decided to stay in the guest house all day and forced myself to write for my project. Unsuccessfully, I kept falling asleep, washed my laundry (by hand of course, so this can take a long time), and found other time wasters. At the end of the day, unable to focus, I found refuge on the roof terrace. But even the food did not make me happy today. I was out of balance and assessed myself to find the reasons.

Kandy did not offer me much peace and I was ready to move on. But before leaving town the next day, I called a number of a friend of a friend who lives in Kandy. Not knowing this person at all, I introduced myself and Rani spontaneously welcomed me with boxes of teas. We talked for a while and soon found common ground in her project for children's education. In a nutshell, she uses all her money and time to fund education for 50 disadvantaged children around Sri Lanka (children affected by the tsunami or the war, often orphans). Her thought was to teach children in the middle East and to re-invest the salary in her project. I suggested to find other ways for seeking funds and offered my help to develop her proposal. I spontaneously decided to stay in Kandy for another night and over dinner we discussed the project in more details. I asked many questions to understand the project's intentions and constraints. Back in my elements, I was analysing the situation while soaking up information. Very thankful for my advice and opinion, she said I made her day. Little she knew how she had given my stay in Kandy a positive twist.

Back in the guest house I met a French-Canadian who works as production manager in the movie industry in Montreal. Jean-Francois is currently on a 3-month trip through Cambodia, Burma, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka. Unfortunately, we could not speak for a long time because of my dinner invitation. He seemed like another inspiring character.

Travel Blues

Kandy, Sri Lanka

After uninspiring accommodations in Trinco and Anuradhapura, the chosen guest house in Kandy was a real palace. My eyes dived in the warm orange and red color combination of the sheets and curtains. I loved the view over the mountain range, the little stream behind the house, and the banana plant reaching over the attached balcony. I listened to the sounds of a nearby Buddhist temple and settled for some vegetable noodles on the roof terrace.

The next day, I walked the exhausting 30 minutes into the city, along one of the busiest roads with honking buses, trucks, three-wheelers and cars passing by. From the post office I sent the last few lines home before the travel blues hit me unexpectedly.

Whether it was the burning heat, the constant noise, the people pushing and pulling me into spending my money, or simply a bad day in my otherwise consistently happy journey - my mood was sinking below sea level. A few phone conversations with friends and family that day and the steady internet connection at my guest house that fully exposed me to 'the rest of my life' accelerated the process. My travel blues arrived with three symptoms:

1) Complete writer's block
2) Lost desire to use my camera
and - probably worst of all -
3) Inability to smile

The people around me did not assume that anything was wrong. Resisting my own mood swing, I continued talking to them. Over dinner, a Polish man shared the wildest stories from his ten-year trip around the world. He was a great entertainer to the group huddled around the table. Mirtek saved my day.

Infectious Smiles

The midday heat had set in and I was craving coconut water. No coconuts near and far, so I kept paddling. Pretty exhausted I arrived at a fruit stand and - under the astonished eyes of the surrounding men - emptied the coconut in one sip. It was nearly 12 noon and time to head back to my guest house. I asked for the Main Street to make sure I was on the right track, but the four men, including a police man, did not seem to understand. I repeated the words 'Main Street' several times and pointed with my finger on the map even though I knew that most Sri Lankans do not know how to read maps. I tried in a different way asking for the name of the street where we were. Still no response. Then I asked for the police station and addressed the police man directly. Big question marks in his face. I folded the map, concluded that I knew roughly where I was, and found my way in no time.

As I pulled into the drive way of the guest house, I decided that I had seen enough. After a stay of only 20 hours, there was really no reason to stay longer in Anuradhapura. I enjoyed the cold shower and packed in record time. Upon check-out the receptionist wished me farewell by saying "And don't lose your smile on the way!".* The friendly tuk-tuk driver brought me to a place where I could stock up on lunch items for the long bus ride to Kandy. He also made sure that I had enough water. With his blessings, I boarded the bus and soon after was involved in a discussion with my neighbor.

I noticed quickly that the young lady next to me had a sharp mind. What triggered our conversation was a young boy on the bus begging for money. He put a piece of paper in everyone's lap explaining his family situation and came around to collect donations. Approaching my seat, he curiously asked the lady next to me what is in the plastic bag that I had tied to the window bar. I explained that I would be happy to share my lunch, but would not give him money. She translated to him and he was not interested. This confirmed my decision not to give money.

Elin's English was not perfect, but her questions were smart. Instead of the usual 'what is your name, where are you from, are you married - checklist', she wanted to find out more about my country, my education, and my experience in Sri Lanka. I asked her as many questions and it turned out she is a news speaker for a national radio station. She expressed regrets that her English was not as good as mine and I encouraged her to keep talking to foreigners and to read as much as she can in English. We talked about her family and whether she was planning to give up her job after marriage. She declared that she would rather stay unmarried than give up her job. A big compromise in a non-emancipated society! Elin was my age and keen to exchange more. I gave her my email address which she stored away like a treasure. Turns out she also uses facebook and I truly hope we will keep in touch. Before getting off the bus after about one hour, she concluded that I am very sociable and friendly and how happy she was to have met me. Indeed, I thought to myself, delighted to have shown a smile and enough openness to start this conversation.

* His genuine words of wisdom would soon gain significance to me.

Free Spirit

Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka

My guest house reminded me of my previous jetset life when I stayed in many uninspiring and anonymous hotels. After a snack in the garden, I was joined by a Canadian in his fifties who is currently a not-too-excited expatriate in Qatar. His wife, who wore a thick layer of excessively red lipstick, had decided to stay in Canada. A young sophisticated traveler from New Zealand who knew a little about everything but did not want to reveal too much followed soon after. And at last a couple from England who travels for half a year and seemed very sympathetic joined us. For the first time, I was not in the mood for lengthy conversations and decided to make use of the wifi facility instead. The evening ended with a Sri Lankan group of men getting drunk on Arrak at the table next to me. I ignored their loud arguments and fixed my eyes on the screen. I was the last guest to leave the garden that night.

The next day, I got up very early to start biking at 7am. I wanted to explore the ancient sites of Anuradhapura and beat the midday heat. I pulled into a small teashop and to the owner's delight ordered Sri Lankan breakfast. He dished up spicy curries, wadas, rotis, and dhal. I ordered two piping hot milk teas, one to kill the spices and one to let it sink in. The lady observed me with satisfaction and waved her son to come and see how the foreign white lady masters the local dishes. I asked about his work and as he shrugged his shoulders, his mother replied that he had not found a job yet. I expressed my concern and declared that a young healthy man like him should be working. The mother wiggled her head in agreement and translated to her son who smiled timidly. Full of strength, I continued my journey.

First stop was the holy Bodhi Tree, apparently the oldest recorded tree on earth. The police man waved at me and explained that I need to park the bike and walk the path down to the tree. I cracked some jokes in the hope he would let me bike. In response I got a chuckle and we were both amused. It was still early and at 8am I was one of the first foreign visitors of the day. On the way to the tree, a monk passed by. My usual skepticism towards the men in orange robes was covered by a wide smile and I gained (a very rare) monk smile back. He looked at me and without stopping he - very casually - mumbled "you are a free spirit". I didn't know what to respond, so I smiled and, light-footed, I approached the holy tree.


When entering the temple at the foot of the tree, prayer sounds filled the air. I held my breath and melted with the pillar behind the praying lady who kneeled on the floor and repeated the same verse over and over. It was one of the most beautiful prayers I have ever heard. The sounds were so intense that I returned another two times before leaving the site. Around the tree, Buddhists were kneeling and singing, men were proudly carrying lotus flowers to offer to Buddha, prayer flags were twirling in the wind.

Still mesmerized by the experience, I returned to my bike, cracked some more jokes with the police men, and was very satisfied to bike my free spirit through the early morning in Anuradhapura. I visited dagobas (big round bulbs holding the relics of Buddha), a big Buddha statue, and ruins similar to the ones in Polonnaruwa.


As I approached the most northern end of the sacred city, I decided to dash into the forest and ended up in a village-like settlement. My curiousity for the unknown took me off the beaten paths, past herds of grazing cows, locals lazing in the sun, and stretches of forest where only snakes would cross my path. My good sense of orientation eventually brought me back to more familiar roads. Near the first dagoba that I had visited, I spotted the Canadian and his wife with the thick red lipstick. I waved hello while flying by. The man smiled, waved back and kept looking after me with astonishment in his face. Maybe he was longing to trade his air-conditioned vehicle with a bike and his over-planned trip with the free spirit of the light traveler.