Explore with Fran

Heading to Ahangama in the mood for Xmas

We left Mirissa in Sri Lanka’s south singing xmas carols in the sun, as we rode a taxi the 40 minutes up the coast to Ahangama. Headed to a hotel called “The Find”. And indeed, it did look quite the find and I soon discovered why. When booking travel it is always important to check the currency you are booking in. What looked like a fair price to Victoria in $AUD cost quite a lot more when converted into the actual currency of US$. The fact that it is adults only more than made up for the cost.

Uttering our familiar refrain of “sunk cost” we put the spent beer money behind us and checked into what turned out to be a very swish hotel. Looking like something in the desert of Palm Springs, The Find only has 9 rooms, all with ocean facing views. With a pool and an open air bar and restaurant, it whispered “luxury”. The breakfast was the best we had on our trip, even if it veered more towards a Western style of breakfast. It was here that I had my very first bircher muesli and the jury is still out for me.

The Find, found

The town of Ahangama is much like a lot of the towns along this south west coast of Sri Lanka. Built on either side of a roaring and hectic main road. Yes, this is the main road through to Colombo in the North so we again had the kamikaze local buses hurtling through. What this design does make for though is that one side of the road has uninterrupted sea views. So, whichever bar or restaurant you go into you get the same million dollar views. 

We had these views for our first lunch in Ahangama. A kottu dish at Popeye’s that Victoria still dreams of. Sat with our toes in the sand, the waves stopping just short of our feet, with a cold Lion beer. This is Sri Lanka. We slept lunch off with a chilled afternoon on the sunloungers at the hotel, waking in time for happy hour cocktails. Cocktails that cost as much as the previous day’s food and drinks combined. On our travel budget we wouldn’t be spending our afternoons like this too often.

Enjoying Sri Lankan curry and rice in Ahangama

Budget order was restored at dinner, eating in a very popular local restaurant called “The Townhouse”. All the sandals at the door told us we had to enter barefoot, and the menu suggested we had to have the very good Sri Lankan curry and rice. It was delicious and was served with a “cutlet”. Not the pork cutlet I was expecting. In Sri Lankan cuisine a cutlet is akin to an Italian arancini. It was very tasty. Washed down by my daily fix of mango smoothie. For our after dinner stroll we mingled with the locals as they shopped at night markets and mobile bakeries.

Our time in Ahangama consisted of early morning beach walks before an excellent breakfast. Did I just have the best banana pancakes in my life? Lazy days around the pool, reading and surreptitiously checking the cricket score. The Ashes were not going well. Cheap and tasty rotis from streetside vendors and prices so low I was scratching my head. For our final dinner we walked to a restaurant called “The Bus Stop” which had excellent Google reviews. 

We were the only ones there. Yet, as we always choose to do, we stayed and ordered. And we were glad we did. Very friendly service and very good food. They also served alcohol so we treated ourselves to a large can of Lion beer.

Galle, revisited

Friday saw us having our final breakfast at The Find and ordering an Uber for the ride to Galle. As circumstances dictated we had already visited Galle when we left flood ravaged Kandy. This time we were back in a hotel Victoria booked, say no more, and we had plenty of time to visit the sights in this UNESCO heritage enlisted city.

Galle also had a train station so the first order of the day was getting a refund for our cancelled Kandy to Ella train. For which we had to find a tiny shop that offered a photocopying service and get copies of our passport. Thankfully, this was close to the train station and the whole refund process was quick. Second order of the day was lunch and I had a tasty chicken curry with paratha and Victoria, a trusty kottu. Drinks? Yes, I had a mango smoothie. 

Galle is a very popular stop on this side of the Sri Lankan coast. Many tourists and holiday makers come and walk along the walls of the fort, visit the lighthouse, and meander through the charming narrow streets checking out the old architecture. The town has a very good feel to it. And you soon get used to the constant flute of the snake charmer.

Yes, snake charmers still exist, and tourists still seem to pay them to rouse their soporific cobras from their wicker baskets. Animal welfare is not top of mind in a lot of countries, and in Sri Lanka we saw quite a few monkeys on chains being paraded for tourists to take photos. A part of me dies inside every time I see it.

Walking back to the hotel I picked up a new nightcap. The local whisky had served me well and now I am going to try the local Arrak. Supposedly a mix between whisky and rum. Distilled from coconuts this sounds like my kind of drink. I nursed a couple as we continued our “UNO Sri Lankan Championship”, not that I remembered which of us was winning after the Arrak.

Not our first rodeo, high tea in Galle

Saturday dawned with the realisation that we left Perth a whole two weeks ago. I am not quite sure where the time has gone. Reflecting on this we made our way down to breakfast. The breakfast was a let down after the ones we had at The Find. In truth, most breakfasts are a let down after that. We were back to cold toast, tasteless jams and the ubiquitous fruit plate. We made up for it later in the afternoon with a decadent high tea at the luxury hotel, Amangalla, a stylish colonial inspired building.

I was initially drawn in by their claim of clotted cream. Sadly, this did not prove to be true. That said, the high tea was excellent, as was the service. We whiled away a wonderful couple of hours sipping bubbles, drinking tea, and eating scones on the terrace of the hotel. 

Manifesting a scoring run in Galle, sadly

With no need for dinner in the evening we enjoyed a couple of cold beers and watched the Premier League football in the Taphouse pub. Victoria got into some banter with a Leeds Utd fan and shared her opinion that Calvert-Lewin “couldn’t score in a brothel”. I am sad to report that he hasn’t stopped scoring since. Be careful what you wish for.

I wished for a better breakfast. Alas, it didn’t appear. As our next destination was only 30 minutes away we made the most of the morning in Galle. Victoria had a very good massage and I had a good coffee. We were both relaxed. Ordering an Uber we were on the move again. Next stop, Hikkaduwa.

On to Hikkaduwa but who with?

Our Uber driver actually looked like the person in the Uber app. This hasn’t been the case many times on this trip. The first time it happened I was very thrown. What do we do? Get in? State the obvious, “this is not you”? As they have the app open, and have my name and booking on their screen, we always just jumped in. With the passing around of the Uber credentials this could explain why some of our drivers appeared not to be able to drive very well. I wondered, is this a way of avoiding the need to have a driving licence?

I put this to the back of my mind as we approached Hikkaduwa. We received a warm welcome at the Saffron Robes hotel, presented with a cold King Coconut as the welcome drink. The hotel looks and feels modern, in the concrete style that appears to be gaining in popularity. Situated down a quiet laneway off the frantic main road it had an air of tranquility.

Not the locals we want to meet in Hikkaduwa

Our tranquility was shattered as we walked to town along the river. Seeing something large out of the corner of my eye we turned and saw a huge lizard like creature that I first took to be a Komodo Dragon. Researching later we discovered that it was in fact a Water Monitor Lizard. It was huge and thankfully didn’t move very fast.

We moved faster, heading to the nearest cafe for lunch. Cool Spot was another empty restaurant. Small and family run, we sat down and ordered a kottu each. They even served beer so we treated ourselves. The young man working there was “kind” enough to put the cricket on the TV. Hearing our English accents I think he did this on purpose. The Ashes was not making for enjoyable viewing as an Englishman.

What was more enjoyable were the sunsets that were beyond superlatives. We headed to a local bar, one of many along the beach that have uninterrupted views as the sun slowly sets. Truly million dollar views for the price of two Lion beers.

Our thoughts turn to the next phase of the holiday

Sipping my Arrak nightcap, which is tasty and even better with local ginger beer, we reflected on the upcoming part two of our trip. Which will be our first visit to the Maldives. Before then we needed to find a hotel for tomorrow night in Colombo, Sri Lanka’s capital. I left this to Victoria and as always she knocked it out of the park. We were to stay in what is now one of my favourite hotels in the world.

Keep following to find out more.

Arriving in Galle, dry

Did I mention how wet it was in Kandy? Our umbrellas had just about dried and my trainers weren’t too far behind. My hope is that we have now seen the back of the bad weather. The signs were good. Since arriving in Galle last night we have had blue skies and no rain. Galle was always on our list to visit and due to the inclement weather, and once in a 100 years cyclone, we were out of step with our trusty spreadsheet. We were now travelling in the opposite direction to which we had planned.

Life is what happens whilst you are making plans, said John Lennon. Life saw us rocking up to a small family run guesthouse some two kilometers out of Galle old town. After the usual barrage of friendly questions, such as “where have you been?’, “what are your plans?”, “where are you going next?”, “how will you get there?”, yes, it is very exhausting, we had a stroll to Galle old town.

Quick quiz. How many times do you think you can be asked, “tuk tuk, sir?”, on a two kilometer walk? Double that guess and you could be close. Like most of asia, where tuk tuks are ubiquitous, locals find it very strange that you would choose to walk anywhere, even such short distances.

As we would be coming back to Galle later on the trip we had a whistle stop visit of this very historic city. After the six and half hour taxi ride from Kandy, never has that first cold beer tasted so good. We had our first of the holiday sat outside in the sunshine. Tick. Delicious roti from a street vendor. Tick. Photo of the lighthouse. Tick.

Our first hoppers in Sri Lanka

Waking the next day we were very happy to see “hoppers” on the included breakfast at the guesthouse. Our first of the trip. A Sri Lankan favourite of thin pancakes with a fried egg in the middle. And, they were hot, which seems to be something of a novelty at breakfast in Sri Lanka. A great start to the day which involved a 49 minute Uber ride, in air conditioned bliss, to our next destination, Weligama.

Weligama was not on our spreadsheet and we were looking for a place to stay for the night ahead of moving onto Mirissa, which was, and would see us back on track. Met with a very tasty iced lemon tea at the reception of M-Zion hotel, we were very pleased to note that our room was available. The hotel looked newly built, was very welcoming, and we had a room with a sea view. I even had a kettle to brew my fresh coffee in the morning. The holiday vibes were kicking in.

Weligama is a destination very typical of the south west coast of Sri Lanka. Built around surfing tourism. If ever you wanted to learn I’m not sure there is a better place in the world. A long stretch of beach, some great local food, and cold Lion beer. Talking of the food, we did have an experience in the evening. Sat at a small local place a chap came out rather apologetically and handed us a menu. He then told us that the chef had gone to help out with the flood relief and now, all that could be offered on the menu were the two items that he himself, the brother could cook.

What do you do in a situation like this? You stay right where you are and ask him to bring out his best dish, of the two, in the knowledge that you are putting a little bit back in towards the community rebuild following the floods. Well, he definitely wasn’t a chef. I stoically finished my flavourless curry, enjoyed my mango smoothie and bid the family a good night and good luck.

Even if all the chefs left, Weligama is still a place I could easily lose weeks in. Laid back, friendly, and at times, decent food. But we were back on the road the next day. Our trusty spreadsheet was back in action and we were back on track.

Playing the taxi lottery in Sri Lanka

Ordering cars via either the Pick Me or Uber app is a bit of a lottery. Some of the cars that turn up look like they wouldn’t pass an MOT. And for some reason, the cars that turned up seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. I did wonder at what point would a car turn up that had no room for our luggage? Spoiler alert, this was to happen in Colombo, later in the trip.

The car that turned up in Weligama had no place being on the road. Then we discovered that the driver had no place behind the wheel of a car. I should have clocked this sooner, as he tried to reverse to us in single lane traffic, with cars heading straight for him. Then he couldn’t open the rear doors for us to get in. When we finally did get in we noticed the fuel gauge was on empty. Thankfully our journey into Mirissa was only a short trip. My hypothesis that our driver had not passed any kind of driving test was confirmed when we arrived at Peacock Villas in Mirissa and he tried to reverse into their driveway, reversing straight into a large plantpot.

Exploring Mirissa

You just have to laugh. And laugh we did. We were quickly becoming accustomed to putting our lives on the line everytime we moved on. An iced coffee was our welcome drink at Peacock Villas, another charming hotel / guesthouse, all family run. A small collection of very tidy rooms around a swimming pool. Situated down a quiet lane, we were far enough away to not be bothered by the relentless traffic hurtling through Mirissa on the main road. Traffic that included the locals buses as they thunder up and down the west coast overtaking anything that deigns to be in their way. A blast of the horn is your only warning.

With our hand washed laundry out to dry in the garden, watched over by our new friend Mrs Lizard, we strolled into Mirissa. Being on the south west coast we again had a very large stretch of beach to enjoy. A perfect spot it turned out for ice cold beers, sat on the sand, savouring the daily sunsets. Life really does slow down as you feel your toes in the sand, listening to the lap of the waves upon the shore, as the earth slowly spins on its axis providing you the illusion that the sun is moving.

Visiting not so secret, Secret Beach

On day two we visited Secret Beach and it quickly became evident that the secret had got out a long time ago. It should possibly be renamed now to just “beach”. Still, it was a gorgeous spot for a cold beer, taking in the beautiful views. Once we had actually got there. A walk that started out as flat windy lanes ended up being more taxing than a walk in the hilly Yorkshire Dales. The path felt vertical at times. Little wonder we were amongst the few that were walking, with many tuk tuks whizzing past us.

Walking back was a lot easier and the reward was food. It was in Mirissa that we had the best roti of the whole trip. Fittingly, from a restaurant called “The No.1 Roti Shop”. The air was replete with aromas that made my belly rumble and the unmistakable sounds of clattering machetes preparing the day’s kottu. The food at No.1 Roti house was so good we went both days we were in Mirissa. Food is always a highlight in Sri Lanka and so it proved to be in Mirissa. Sri Lankan pancakes (warm). Kottu, which we told you about in an earlier blog on Sigiriya. And lots of mango smoothies.

Why is Beethoven in Sri Lanka?

If it was a snack through the day you were after we got used to listening out for the strains of Beethoven’s Fur Elise. If you are wondering why, let me explain. During the pandemic of 2020, which you may remember, people couldn’t go out to the bakery to collect their daily bread. So enterprising bakers took the bread on the road, in tuk tuks and visited villages. But how to get people’s attention? 

How does the ice cream man do it? Yup, the mobile bakers also knew that a catchy tune was the way to alert people they were in the area. And at the time, it was common to use their mobile ring tone and blast it through a speaker. And, what was the most common mobile phone ring tone in Sri Lanka in 2020? You guessed it, Beethoven’s Fur Elise. The pandemic passed and the appeal of the mobile baker stayed, which is why you can hear Beethoven all across Sri Lanka.

On our walk up to Coconut Tree hill in Mirissa we passed through many leafy green lanes that were so reminiscent of Bali over a couple of decades ago. And already, down these lanes we could see lots of hotel construction starting. It doesn’t take too much imagination to consider what these lanes will be like 10 years from now. I remember strolling down Poppies Lane in Kuta, Bali, in 1999. Peaceful. Little coffee shops and a few bars. The chimes of Balinese music wafting through the humid air. Unrecognisable from what Kuta now looks like. Sri Lankans are adamant that they are not going to be the next Bali. I am not convinced they will have much choice.

After a final dip in the pool at Peacock Villas, I picked up a book from the guesthouse book exchange, Transcription by Kate Atkinson, and went to pack my bags. Our final breakfast brought on the approaching festive season. A christmas tree had joined us overnight. Singing xmas carols to each other we were headed to our next destination.

Leaving Sigiria in Sri Lanka we were very concerned about the weather forecast. The skies had gotten darker and darker over the last few days and the rains had started. In truth, they hadn’t really stopped. Have you ever wondered how the skies can hold quite so much water? Yeah, me too. And this was setting new records. Records for the amount of continuous rain I had seen. And, records for how much Sri Lanka had seen. Records I wasn’t keen on holding.

Excited to be heading to Kandy

Our taxi to Kandy must have heard that records were there to be broken. The record he was going for was the land speed record. Or at least that is how it felt. It turns out that the taxi ride into Sigiriya was just a practice run. Those of you that have travelled in Sri Lanka will know that most of the roads are single lane in each direction. This feels more like a challenge than a constraint for the majority of drivers, ours included. Even in dry conditions this would have been terrifying.

But with the rain beating down, the blowers in the car on full blast trying to deal with the condensation, the inside of the car was freezing. How is your holiday going? Overtaking multiple buses, on blind bends, and with the windscreen wipers going like the clappers, I sent a silent prayer upstairs.

Cursing other drivers as “maniacs” who had the temerity to overtake and thus be in our lane heading straight towards us he was doing the exact same thing for almost the whole drive. We finally arrived in a rain soaked Kandy, greeted with a hot pot of tea and a chance to reset our nervous systems. Never has box breathing been so effective.

Kandy is a beautiful, scenic town, located in the central hills area of Sri Lanka and is the cultural capital. Home to the “tooth relic”, which to be honest, doesn’t sound that appealing to me. However, it was on our list of tourist things to do whilst in Kandy. As was the sunset walk up to the giant buddha. Both of which we didn’t get to do. I wonder if you can guess why?

Cyclone incoming in Kandy

If you had given me 100 hundred guesses I would not have landed on “the worst cyclone Sri Lanka had experienced in a generation”. How about you?

Despite the rain, we knew we only had three nights in Kandy and wanted to make the most of it. So, in rain jackets and with our umbrella we headed to the hotel reception to order a tuk tuk through the “Pick Me” app, a local version of Uber. Strangely, nobody would pick our ride up. We assumed it was the weather. Over the course of the time we were in Kandy we discovered that it wasn’t the weather hampering our attempts to get transport. It was the tuk tuk mafia.

Tuk tuk mafia in Kandy

Yes, the tuk tuk mafia is a real thing, and not only in Kandy. Local drivers unhappy with the competition that ride hailing apps bring to places threaten drivers who use them, with violence. This is nothing new to us. We have had the same problem in parts of Bali. Before technology, before apps, for those that remember, local taxi and tuk tuk drivers could charge exactly what they want. These vehicles didn’t have meters. I have certainly been ripped off across the world in the “pre-mobile” travel days. I still bristle at the price I paid in Cordoba, Argentina for a short ride to the hostel. Not familiar with local currencies and not having a frame of reference of how much rides cost it is only in retrospect that you realise you have been done up like a kipper.

Remember that time in Hanoi?

This does still happen to me. Done up like a kipper. Like the time in Hanoi and I paid off a street vendor’s mortgage when buying two bahn mi. Anyway, enough of that. I’m not bitter. They are trying to make a living and I need food. We all win.

Today, kippers were off the menu, as were our hopes of getting a tuk tuk. We started walking, in the rain, and within 30 minutes we were having a very good Sri Lankan lunch at Cafe 1886. In fact, it was so good we called again the day after. And we thought it was closed as the dining room was in the dark. In fact, even though the power was out, the chefs were cooking on a gas hob by the lights of their mobile phones. The food was just as good, eaten in the dark of the unlit dining room.

As is common in Sri Lanka, the restaurant was not licensed so the strongest thing we could drink on each visit was water. Sat in the window with excellent views of the Red Mosque we looked at each and without words we communicated our thoughts. Would it ever stop raining?

The best laid plans in Kandy

It didn’t. And it got worse. What we soon discovered was that Sri Lanka was about to experience its worst cyclone in almost 100 years. And Kandy was in the eye of the storm. We fell asleep to the sound of rain pounding down. We awoke to the same sound. Our three night stay became four as the town of Kandy became inaccessible, in or out. We had tickets for the Kandy to Ella train ride, a train ride in the world’s top 10 train rides, and that got cancelled. Along with all the trains across the country. It really was not looking good.

At some point we lost wifi. And as all travellers around the world know, wifi is our lifeline. Lifeline to the next bus reservation. The next hotel room. The next tuk tuk. Without wifi life on the road is very difficult. Heading to reception we anticipated a very simple solution that would be quickly resolved. Not so, it turns out that wifi was down across the whole country with no timescale for its return. My saviour, my lifeline was an esim that allowed me to access data on my phone.

Bunkering down in our hotel room, between games of Uno I was reading of fellow travellers in Kandy sharing stories on a Facebook group. Through one of these stories I connected with a traveller from Aberdeen, Scotland who was travelling with her husband and in a very similar situation to us. In Kandy longer than planned and very keen to leave as soon as the roads opened up again.

At some point in the early evening we lost power. The whole hotel was in darkness. And was for sometime until we heard the click of electricity being returned to the room. Followed by the bedside phone ringing. It was the hotel reception letting us know that we were now on backup generator power that would only be on until 10pm. We quickly plugged our phones in so we could get some juice before we lost power again.

A way out of Kandy?

On that fourth evening Lyn messaged to say there could be an option to leave in the morning. By private taxi. We had to wait until at least 9am when hopefully a local will have confirmed the state of the roads. Waking the following morning I had an early message from Lyn. The roads appear to be open and we are leaving at 8am. Cue us frantically packing, rushing a cup of tea, and packing up.

Unfortunately, access to our hotel was cut off due to a couple of landslides so the taxi couldn’t come to us. We had to walk to them, wheeling our bags in the rain, under our umbrellas. Finding them parked at the bottom of the hill and after some quick introductions, we headed out of Kandy, four of us in the back of a minivan and the driver.

The roads out were a lot worse than I even imagined. Trees down, across the roads. Some roads were completely lost to landslides. Homes devastated by landslides and fallen trees. Traffic was down to one lane. In a couple of places our road was closed and we had to take lengthy detours through small villages. Our two hour taxi ride became 6 and a half hours but we did manage to make it out of the hills and to the coast. I know from the Facebook group I was part of that many other travellers weren’t as fortunate and had extend their stay in Kandy by a number of days.

Here comes the sun in Galle

In the taxi, once we knew we would make it out safely, I booked a hotel for one night in Galle. It turns out it was the only hotel I was trusted to book, but we did have somewhere to sleep for a night. We would regroup there and work out our next steps. The first week hadn’t gone to plan but we now had blue skies and sunshine. Things were looking up.

Settling into Sri Lanka

Arriving late at night is always a little discombulating. Over the years we have tried our best to arrive in daylight hours, giving us a better chance to get our bearings in a new city. Sometimes, you are at the mercy of flight schedules as was the case with our arrival into Sri Lanka.

Having had a good sleep near the airport, and a very hair raising taxi ride to Sigiriya, we could now slow down, settle into the Sri Lankan rhythm and start exploring. Sigiriya is in central Sri Lanka, north west of Colombo, in a very historic area. An area that is said to have been inhabited since prehistoric times. The main attraction is Lion’s Rock which dominates the skyline. Almost 600 feet high, this massive slab of granite has a rich cultural history. Now a UNESCO World Heritage site it is described as “one of the best preserved examples of ancient urban planning.”

Seeing Sigiriya

As you can see in other parts of the world, notably Machu Picchu in Peru, Sigiriya rock was built to be lived on. Where better place to build your fancy new palace? At the very top, of course. Away from nasty people trying to invade. In what must be one of the world’s greatest conundrums, I gaze in wonder at how they possibly managed to build a palace on top of such a high rock. A rock we would be climbing ourselves during our three days in Sigiriya.

Today was about getting our first taste of Sri Lankan food, and specifically the famed kottu. A dish that I think is specific to Sri Lanka, a kottu is a mixture of cut up roti bread, vegetables and sometimes with chicken and cheese added. The way this dish is made is very distinctive and the sounds can be heard before the delicious smells. On a large grill plate, all the ingredients are bundled together and with two large metal cleaver type utensils, the cook chops up furiously. The metallic clang clang of the utensils on the metal grill can be heard far and wide. A piece of clever marketing I would say.

The result is a delicious plate of food that can be tailored to your level of spice tolerance. It turns out we have a “Sri Lankan” tolerance, something that surprised quite a few locals. Maybe our love of spicy Indian curries has trained our palettes. Little Hut was the venue for our first foray into Sri Lankan food. A small restaurant that wasn’t much bigger than a hut. I am glad that I had eaten before using the solitary toilet. 

A kottu each and a local Lion beer and the bill was 4,290 rupees, approximately $21 AUD. Not very cheap by Asian standards and worth every penny. I think we are going to like Sri Lankan food.

Sigiriya is a small village and it didn’t take long to explore. It has the welcoming feel of a very local community and all the restaurants we passed were small and family run. Usually dad or grandad outside bringing people in, the wife in the kitchen, and kids running around. Sadly, there are way too many people opening restaurants and serving food from the kitchen of their house than there are tourists. The result is a lot of forlorn looking places and not much food being cooked.

Monday dawns in Sigiriya

Monday morning dawned rather portentously, with rain. Something we were to see a lot more of. Our first breakfast at the hotel was great visually, not so good when we started eating. Everything was served cold. As is the norm in many places we had to order our choice the day before. I didn’t realise this was so that they could make it the day before. This is what it felt like when I bit into my omelette. Cold. How about the toast? Cold. The only thing served hot was the tea. Sadly, it was going to become the rule rather than the exception for most of our time in Sri Lanka.

Dambulla and the Cave Temple Complex

With the rain being rather relentless we switched around our plans for the day. Climbing Lion’s Rock could wait until tomorrow and today we will head to Dambulla, home of some of the most well preserved and largest cave temples. In fact, it is the largest cave temple complex in Sri Lanka. The Golden Rock Temple among them is declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

Being 14 kilometres from Sigiriya we ordered a taxi through the Pick Me app and were soon getting dropped off by the ticket entrance. A steep climb up and the very impressive Dambulla cave temple is revealed. We had to share the path with monkeys. Lots of monkeys. What had become obvious is that Sri Lanka is home to wild monkeys, with hotels warning that doors are always closed and shoes not left outside. I would hate to see a monkey strolling around the village in my Tevas.

Leaving our sandals at the gate, safe from curious monkeys, we got to explore the Royal Cave and its many imposing Buddha statues. The 3,000 rupee entrance fee was rather steep, more than the price of the tuk tuk home. That said, we did get “extra value” on the ride home. When the driver asked where we lived I just went into autopilot. We must get asked this question over a dozen times a day. However, when he fiddled with YouTube on his phone, whilst driving, and we suddenly had the “Australia Top 50 Charts” blasting through the tuk tuk’s speakers I worked out that the driver was on a charm offensive. Probably fishing for tips. The only tip I could offer him was not to play such loud garbage to a middle aged gentleman.

Sri Lankan curry

Lunch was back in Sigiriya and another first. Sri Lankan curry from a great restaurant called Kenoli. It looked deserted when we arrived, something we were getting used to, and over the time we had lunch quite a few travellers called in. I had the chicken curry and a mango juice. And being a Sri Lankan curry it was served in the traditional way, with lots of little bowls holding all the usual Sri Lankan accompaniments. It was delicious. And spicy. With Victoria’s egg fried rice and a Sprite the bill was a princely 3,350 rupees, $16 AUD. What about a cold beer? Not sold at the restaurant so we thought we would call somewhere and pick some up.

Buying alcohol in Sri Lanka

When travelling we usually like to pick up a couple of cold beers in the afternoon to take back to the room whilst having a few rounds of Uno. Curiously, I hadn’t yet seen anywhere that sold alcohol. I was fully expecting to see lots of types of stores that are ubiquitous in Asia. The 7-11s of Thailand. The Family Marts of Tokyo. Yet, here in Sri Lanka, nothing. So I headed over to Google (other search engines are available) to research what was going on.

What was going on was that very few places are licensed to sell alcohol. The places that are, are usually called “Wine Shops” and are marked by a large green sign, something that I learned to spot at a thousand paces. But not in Sigiriya. There wasn’t one shop in the whole village selling alcohol. This, and the fact that only limited places could sell alcohol did mean that for the whole trip we drank a lot less frequently than we might have otherwise done. Not a bad thing. As with the local beer in Bali, Bintang, the Sri Lankan lager, Lion, is not something you would want to drink much of. It takes some getting used to.

What we were getting used to was the rain. Our accommodation was down a lane off the main road and was prone to flooding. At one point it was completely flooded and fortuitously, a tuk tuk passed just at the point where we were wondering how wet we were going to get. The tuk tuk was occupied and Victoria asked if she could jump in for the 10 yards or so of flooded road. The back passenger shuffled over and Victoria jumped in. Only one of us got our feet wet.

Climbing Lion’s Peak in Sigiriya

We both got our feet wet the next day. Our last full day in Sigiriya and so our last opportunity to climb Lion’s Peak. Weather be damned, we are climbing. Not even another cold breakfast could dampen our spirits. Paying a pricey $35 USD, each, to enter the National Park it seems we weren’t the only ones braving the elements. We were in good company with large numbers out to scale the rock. 

Reading somewhere that it could take between one and three hours to climb the peak we were ready for a strenuous morning. Imagine our surprise when less than 30 minutes later we were walking around at the top. The views would have been amazing, if it ever stopped raining. We smiled. We were happy. We were travelling around Sri Lanka and knew we were very privileged. A bit of rain wouldn’t stop these two hardy folk from Yorkshire.

Walking around the top I really did get a feel of Macchu Picchu. The sense of awe I felt when first arriving at the top all those years ago. All this ingenuity. All this history. The felt sense of all those people that were here thousands of years before us. Life really is so much bigger than any of us.

Leaving Sigiriya the following day we reflected on our first impressions of Sri Lanka. I compared it to travelling many years ago. Very friendly locals all trying their best to make a living. Our first stop had been in a traditional village steeped in Sri Lankan history. Tourist numbers were low and I know this will change over the years as the world catches on to the beauty of this country. 

As this happens, and Sri Lanka moves with the times, one of my biggest hopes is that they stop this horrendous practice of chaining up elephants so tourists can gawk, ride, and take photos of them. It broke my heart each day to see the stricken elephant chained in a yard and looking very distressed. What was worse was seeing the very sharp spear the men used to dig into the elephants heels when they refused to walk where they were being directed and hearing the elephants’ harrowing cry.

I understand historically countries have used elephants in their tourist attractions. Livelihoods have been built on elephants. My hope is that many more start following the lead of places such as Mandalao Elephant Conservation in Luang Prabang, Laos, who conserve and protect these beautiful animals. Humans and animals both deserve the same level of respect.

With that thought occupying me I was brought back to the present by the sound of crunching gravel as our taxi pulled up to the hotel. We have a three hour taxi ride today, heading south, to the historical city of Kandy. If only all this rain would let up. Worryingly, it did seem to be getting worse. Has anyone checked the forecast?

Sri Lankan history

Basking in the shadow of its much larger neighbour to the north, tear drop shaped Sri Lanka has a rich and turbulent history. Colonised by the Portuguese, then the Dutch, before it was taken by the British and called Ceylon, a name many of you will associate with tea,

Sri Lanka is now a very proud independent nation, becoming a republic in 1972 and it was about to become the 54th country I’ve visited. 

In the years since, the island has been ravaged by a civil war that lasted for 25 years, ending only as recently as 2009. Many thousands of lives were lost in the fighting and it is little wonder that Sri Lanka has taken time to process the trauma.

Easter Sunday Terrorist Attacks in Colombo

Further devastation was to hit in the Easter Sunday terrorist attacks in 2019, with a number of tourist hotels targetted by suicide bombers. Across the city of Colombo, Sri Lanka’s capital, 269 people lost their lives, many of them tourists staying at the Shangri-La, The Kingsbury, and the Cinnamon Grand 5 star hotels. Not aware of the history at the time, we were to visit the Cinnamon Grand for a few cold beers on the last day of our travels in Sri Lanka.

As if they hadn’t been through enough, the country suffered an economic crisis that lasted from 2019 to December 2024. Potentially triggered by the terrorist attacks and then exacerbated by the COVID19 pandemic, the crisis resulted in unprecedented levels of inflation and electricity and fuel shortages.

It seems disaster is never far away in Sri Lanka, something we were to discover for ourselves in the very first week of our travels around the island.

Holiday Tradition

Our holiday started in the traditional way, with pre-flight drinks at the airport. A newly renovated Perth International terminal. It almost feels like the airport is entering the modern era. 

Our flight from Singapore landed in Colombo at around 11.30pm and we were shattered. Travelling from Perth, through Singapore (sadly bypassing one of my favourite cities again), and onto Sri Lanka had us turning our clocks back by two and half hours. Which meant our body clocks were now wondering why we weren’t tucked up in bed.

Clearing immigration was a breeze due to completing our electronic visas before leaving Perth. All we had to do now was negotiate a very busy South Asian airport as we neared midnight. Walking through arrivals to a cacophony of sound, and way more people than I expected for this time of the evening, I was still trying to process why we had to meet our hotel pick up driver at the post office.

“Head towards the post office”, were possibly some of the strangest instructions I had received when landing at an airport in the middle of the night.

Arriving in Sri Lanka

It soon became clear that this is where everyone got told to meet their driver. Colombo airport, officially called Bandaranaike International Airport, is rather small, and as you exit the arrival hall, into the street, turning left has you at a large blue facade, which through the day operates as the post office. In fact, it looked as though it was still open with a uniformed employee sitting behind the glass screen. After a What’s App exchange using my esim and a short wait we were soon in the minivan with one other female traveller, and her surf board, for our overnight stay at Kynrock Hotel, mere minutes from the airport. As we were not visiting Colombo until the end of our travels we opted for a hotel very close to the airport rather than taking a taxi for the one hour trip into the city.

Morning broke bright and sunny with the sounds of many foreign accents. It turns out we had a very large delegation from the Indian Red Cross staying in the hotel and they do love a “good morning” greeting, so much so that the noise from the corridor, “good morning” on repeat, acted as our alarm clock. As I always travel with fresh coffee it was a well needed strong black coffee that got my engines going for the day.

First Breakfast in Sri Lanka

With a rumbling stomach, and enticing aromas wafting down the corridor, we went in search of breakfast options. Our only option turned out to be a very expensive $12 AUD (2,494 rupee) for the “Indian breakfast”. My first chicken curry of the trip and it was delicious. A side dish of daal and a spicy Sri Lankan omelette and I was all set up for a travel day. 

We had researched the many ways of travelling around the island, and for the very first day we decided to do what many do, and that is to take a taxi. The thought of a three hour taxi ride would seem ludicrous at home, it would be like getting a taxi to Margaret River, but here in Sri Lanka a lot of locals make their living through these long taxi rides.

Sri Lankan Taxis

Through the local Pick Me app, Sri Lanka’s version of Grab/Uber, we soon had a car en route to collect us. What turned up was a completely different car, and driver, to the one in the app. However, he knew who he was picking up, and knew where we were going, so I didn’t question it. This turned out to be fairly common across the country and by the end of our travels we weren’t even batting an eyelid, we just laughed.

The car that did turn up resembled a box. A very small square box. We could only just get our two bags in the boot and then we set off, both struggling to get our rear seatbelts on. After fighting with the contraption in vain for about 10 minutes it became abundantly clear that they did not in fact work. Hold on tight, this could be quite a ride.

Arriving in Sigiriya

And so it turned out. We were headed inland, to Sigiriya, and for most of the journey we were either tailgating someone with the car horn constantly pressed and competing with the music blaring from the car’s speakers, or we were overtaking into oncoming traffic. I am not the religious sort, but I did offer a silent prayer to the big man upstairs. On our travels around the world we have had some hair raising taxi rides and this was right up there with them.

Our driver could not have looked more relaxed and as we peeled ourselves out of the car, exhausted, when we arrived at our hotel in Sigiriya, all we got was a very big smile. Very little English is spoken by the locals and a smile goes a long way.

Online paints a very different picture to reality, we know this. And yet I am still surprised to turn up somewhere and wonder if we are in the right place. The hotel looked deserted and mid construction with nobody to be seen anywhere. I even walked back to the laneway and checked the sign of the hotel. Yes, this was definitely the Lankapura Heritage hotel and the sign advertised, “Luxry rooms”. It was my first indication of what travelling in Sri Lanka would be like.

First Impressions

At home, chatting through where we would be heading, we both agreed that we had no mental image of what Sri Lanka would be like. I now saw that it was very reminiscent of travelling through much of South East Asia in 1999. At first sight, nothing much to greet the weary traveller, and then, places start growing on you. Such as when a couple of men appeared from nowhere with a cold guava drink to quench our thirsts and showed us to our room.

Cold air conditioning, a kettle for my coffee, a small fridge for beer, and an outside seating area overlooking the pool with great views across to Lion’s Rock. Things were already looking up. Now time for a stroll, find some lunch, a couple of cold beers, and check out the village of Sigiriya and continue making those first impressions.

Heading South

The route started out as so familiar. Merging with the stream of traffic heading south. The sun was rising, the skies were blue, and we were looking forward to some downtime in nature. With a bit of wine thrown in, of course.

What might surprise you is that our destination wasn’t Margaret River. I know it might feel to you that this is our second home. And it kind of is. Yet, there is a destination a little closer to home that has been described by many as the new Margaret River.

Ferguson Valley

Ferguson Valley is just over two hours south of Perth. Shaving over an hour off our usual journey down south. Leaving mid morning we were sampling some of Green Door’s excellent wines. Wines that were new to me on my wine education journey. I got to discover Monastrell. At least I thought it was new. 

A little bit of research showed me that I was very familiar with the grape, just under different names. You see, Monastrell is known as Mouvedre in France, and Mataro in other wine growing regions of the world. Everyday is a school day when you are studying wine.

However, this trip wasn’t specifically to study wine. I was very happy to learn recently that I had passed my exam for the WSET Level 2 in wines. This exam is not too onerous and does give you a very good grounding in wine, wine production, and the various grapes that are grown around the world. I am still percolating on whether my future contains WSET Level 3 and beyond, which are a big step up in commitment.

Our Escape Pod at Skating Goose Farm

My commitment for this weekend was to rediscover Ferguson Valley, a place we first visited a couple of years ago. And we were staying at the same location. The adults only luxury retreat at Skating Goose Farm. With only two cabins, called “escape pods”, Honey was to be our home for the weekend. Set amongst 150 acres of farmland, surrounded by Marri forest, this was the ultimate rest and relaxation location.

Sat on the deck of the cabin, watching the various birds flit in and out. We had a resident honey eater keeping us company in the flowering bushes in front of us. Numerous laughing kookaburras perched high in the canopy of trees serenaded us with their very unique song. A constant background buzz left us in no doubt where the local honey came from. And, as the light of the day started to fade, a mob of kangaroos appeared and surprised us by engaging in a fist fight with each other. We have seen a lot of roos, and this was the first time we have seen them boxing. It was quite the sight.

The Night Sky in Australia

As the temperature dropped, we moved onto a local Cabernet Sauvignon, from nearby Ferguson Falls. Swirling the wine in the glass, extracting the aromas, as I fired up the BBQ and cooked us a t-bone. Is there a better combination? Dinner finished and we were back on the balcony. The sun had set and darkness had arrived.

When you have experienced the night sky in remote Australia you will never need a television again. There is no better viewing than sitting, peering into the universe whilst it peers back. Wondering who is out there, watching us. It is almost a statistical impossibility that we are the only lifeform in the vast universe. We just haven’t found each other. Yet.

Without light pollution the night sky is unlike anything you have ever seen before. Awestruck we tried to count the satellites criss crossing the night sky. That was until our attention was immediately stolen by a shooting star streaking across the sky. It literally takes your breath away. And I literally hardly ever use the word literally. It is so often misused and misunderstood in the modern vernacular. 

Cabernet finished, and the traditional ritual of a whisky nightcap ending a great evening, it was time for bed. Oh, the silence. No noise of the neighbours above us doing whatever it is they do. Every evening. No city sirens racing to the latest emergency. Even the kookaburras were asleep.

10,000 Gnomes

Morning broke misty with amazing views across the paddock as the first light hit the fields. This was my cue to light up the BBQ and create our traditional bacon and egg breakfast. With the happy addition of a couple of chunky slices of black pudding.

Saturday started with a visit to what may just be the world’s weirdest tourist attraction. Although, we did find one even weirder, more on those frogs later. Gnomesville is exactly what the name suggests. A village of gnomes. A tradition that started out with one gnome has blossomed into quite possibly the largest gathering of gnomes in the world. It is a sight to be seen, and also a little creepy.

Estimates suggest there are over 10,000 gnomes, with the number growing each year as visitors from both Australia and overseas bring new additions. Covering a large area of forest that borders the main road running through Ferguson Valley I was astounded by the amount of visitors it had on the weekend we were there. And like us, not just visitors with children. A local institution, Gnomesville is a must visit if you are in the area.

Frog’s Hollow – it has to be seen to be believed

Slightly less impressive, but just starting out, is “Frog’s Hollow”. Taking the weirdness up a notch, Frog’s Hollow is a short 10 minute drive from Gnomesville. And here, frogs are trying to get in on the act. Only created this year, the number of frogs is starting to grow and it has a long way to go before it reaches the “fame” of its nearby Gnome friends. We were, unsurprisingly, the only visitors and it didn’t take us too long to explore. Who knows, 10 years from now and Frog’s Hollow might just be the next big thing in Ferguson Valley.

Lunch at Hackersley Estate

For now, we will stick with one of the Valley’s real highlights. Food. Lunch was at the impressive Hackersley Estate. With a view out across the paddock, watching a large mob of kangaroos hop past, we were there for the 3 course set menu. And it was delicious. Completed by glasses of their own Semillon and Verdelho, served a little too cold, each course was a delight. We completed the lunch with a wine tasting, getting to try the Mondeuse grape. A new one for me and a black grape that is native to France.

Rolling out of Hackersley Estate, our next stop was at Talisman Wines. A gem and a must visit. Driving down an unsealed road you could be forgiven for thinking you had taken a wrong turn. Trust yourself and turn left just after the converted buses that now double up as simple accommodation. We pulled up just 30 minutes before closing time and managed to get a full tasting from the very friendly Kim.

Set around a lake, Talisman Wines is a boutique winery producing some of the best wines of the region. The Riesling is a stand out and who would have thought of aging a Riesling in oak? Strange, right. And it works. As do all the wines we tried. The Chardonnay was exquisite and the Cabernet Malbec had me thinking of last night’s steak. And yes, reader, we purchased a selection to take home with us.

Ferguson Valley – a mini Margaret River?

Driving home the next day we reflected on our weekend, and pondered why we don’t come more often. Not owning a car is a constraint. One that means we can’t just pop down there on impulse. It takes planning and each time we hire a car it seems to drive itself to our spiritual home, Margaret River. That said, people are not far off the mark when they describe Ferguson Valley as a mini Margaret River. Vineyards. Great food. Breweries. And wildlife. What is not to like?

Dropping the hire car off we knew it wouldn’t be long before we were picking it back up. Four weeks long. For our next Margaret River trip. We will be needing some more wine by then.