humanbeings have to endure this bureacratic bull. I'm wondering if their citizens have to experience similar torture in a tit for tat or if they are on a 'take these imperialists for a ride' to teach them a lesson for grabbing power and no doubt installing such obstacle filled procedures in the first place.
On a brighter note, my journey around SriLanka has been a joy. This really is a hickeldy pickeldy place where people seem to be happy and content to live. The roads are rather dangerous places to be especially when being passed by the govt. missile buses which stop anywhere yet appear not to stop for anything that gets in their way swerving at full pelt to overtake leaning at impossible angles while leaning constantly on their horns to announce arrival and to ward off smaller vehicles. Then there are the motorcyclists limited to 250cc with a handfull of 600s having somehow slipped through, most likely via diplomatic or politic privelage. The law for the bikers appears to require helmets mostly, or at least in urban areas, but with restriction on the number of passengers one often sees a family of 4 or even 5 clinging to an Indian 125cc of sorts. Apparently the helmet law does not extend to children or babes in arms who you will often see hanging onto the
handlebars with great delight or cradled somewhere in the middle with a pair of hands holding an umbrella aloft at the same time. I did once come across the aftermath of a two bike collision which attracted it seemed the whole villages residents and similar numbers of police at the scene. I stopped to make sure of the correct route and the policeman assumed that I was asking him what had happened as he commenced explaining that there had been an accident when I had gathered as much by the two bikes still luying where they had come to rest. I expect they were waiting for the local chief or collission experts to turn up for evidence collecting after all the townfolk had continued to cover any sign of skid marks there may have been on the sand road.
Having left Arugum bay, I headed east and soon found myself riding through a thick jungle area referred to as an elephant corridor which heightened my senses on the lookout for some Nellies I imagined would come bounding through the trees. Just then I felt the tell tale wobble sign of the punctured rear tyre. At first I tried to pump and go but soon realised the futility of this progressing only a few hundred meters at a time. So I found a place with a small stream alongside in case I needed to do a bubble search and with one eye and both ears tuned into wild animal mode, I proceeded to turn the bike over and seek out te offending hole which luckily made itself known quickly, it being a bright and quiet area. Then a tuk tuk came by with a passenger being a beer filled joung lad who insisted on offering his help and unsteady expertise. I kept thanking him and assserting that I felt sure to manage so had him and the wild animals to look out for. He was
somewhat more wild as it turned out. Puncture repaired, some sweet root shared, I continued my journey and later spotted some large black objects grazing peacefully some few hundred yards off. Binos confirmed they were indeed 5 wild elephants mildly going about their munching business without a care in the world.
In the afternoon, I came to a small village and decided to turn right onto a small track leading through some homesteads some of which typically had a store of sorts in the front garden. Then onto the local paddyfields with a spectacular hill to the left beyond a lake. Up on high I could see a temple and Budha perched on a bare rock as has often been the case. I cycled towards it and came to a farmstead where an army lad and a farm worker stood. The worker was using a couple of buckets by the well to provide a good shower which appealed so I stopped and asked if there were some monks. He was to return from the village later so I parked the bike and walked up through a forrest and well warn steps of rock up towards the monastry some several hundred yards up the hill. Birds of many, peacocks and monkeys announced my arrival to this place with view of pure tranquility amongst the drooping trees across the lake and paddy fields below. In contrast but
mingling well was the cacophony of monkeys, peacocks' squirrels and countless others from small insects to larger amphibians all contributing to this wonderfully natural atmoshere of pure harmony. And then amongst this, a well blended verandered cottage built into and against the rock. A real paradise. Busy with animals but no humans about, I proceeded beyond the permission sign on up a steep 'carved in the rock' stairway with steel cabled hand rail leading aloft to where the Budha stood and solid temple above. Stunning, so I decided to stop for the night if allowed. On the way back down I noticed a solitary figure walking along the road towards where I had left my cycle. Binos again confirmed that he most likely was the monk returning. We met at the bottom of the hill exchanging a beam of smiles, a shake of hands followed by his gift of two wood apples. I explained about wanting to stay and gestured the v shape camping sign to which he nodded and
walked on. One or two of the farm workers warned about the danger of elephants roaming around after dark. Others have at times warned me about elephants travelling along and across roads at night too, but I found a suitable camping spot near and abandoned farm hut under some trees on some sandy ground. I managed to avoid an ant highway just a few feet away and gently stepped over their path when moving around so as to avoid disturbing their follow the leader migration too and fro. Having only camped once before so far here in SriLanka, when I found the tent to be far too confined and sauna like I determined to pitch the tent differently this time. I was able to raise the flyseet well above this time, tying one side to a tree branch and using a guied branch on the other, meant that I was still sheltered from rain but able to see out either side of the inner tent through the gause with much improved airflow.
Darkness fell quickly as usual and I cycled back to the village for so,e grub, it being an onion, tomato, bread, bananas, ginger beer and ginger biscuits. Further on I sat down outside another store and asked a lady to make me a cup of tea to have with my biscuits which I shared with her little daughter and curious friend who happened along.
In the morning after having slept soundly I got up early to try and catch the sun rising from the hill above and then noticed some large droppings nearby so it looked like one or more large creatures had visited afterall. I sat on a chair in the cottage garden and was met again with a stunning view. Missing the orange ball which had been replaced by a steadily brightening through some cumulonimbus clouds accumulating on the eastern horizon. The monk then appeared and to his surprise there was I. He remarked about my not having parted the night before afterall whilst shuffling into his room to fully robe himself in my presence and reappearing enthuisiastically commenting about the beautiful sunrise. Soon after the normal mug of sweet tea arrived with a small packet of biscuits and after, I sat with him and had some chillied beans for breakfast before returning to the well below for a wash ,shave pack up and go after sharing adresses and photocall.
Onwards to the west I went at good speed, it being mostly flat to begin with. For at least 12kms, + joined a group of army cyclists out on a training ride and managed to keep with them until the next town. They were riding single geared bikes with stripped, but basic steel frames and sit up and beg bars with shopping bike tyres like my own. Given my load, I was quite pleased with my ability to keep at their pace even though I had gears to help up the increasing inclines. Glad to have reached the next town, I stopped for a drink and breakfast at a so called hotel which is the name they give a tea room here. This one specialised in Chinese cooking but I had just a simple milk rice cake made from previously cooked riced to form a sweet filled cake and a couple of bananas. On my way out, I was given a bunch of sweet mini bananas for my journey after exchanging emails and travelling tales.
In the afternoon, it was then time to turn right and start heading north into the mountains. A Toil followed with steep climbs, interspersed with an excellent curry, cup of tea and several coconuts, jack fruit and wood apple. Then the heavens opened and a soggy me walked up the last of the mountain pass, passed a wild waterfall and eventually onto the mountain village of Ella 1100m aloft in the heart of Cylon tea country. Evening meal a boring relatively expensive burger for supper joined by Crystal I think, a joung lady fro Denmark who is a fashion designer having recently completed a SriLankan contract arranged via a well known London design school where she had degree'd. Overnight in the monastry, an early walk to little adams peak offered a memorable view across the tea plantations down to the east across a natural mountain corridor to the hills and plains far below.
Quick breakfast and time to hop on the 160km, 7hr! train journey through the mountains back to Kandy and the Burmese Rest where I stayed once again for the princely sum of about £1.10 per night.
I would not ordinarily choose to travel on a lumpy bumpy, noisy, slow, stop starting train journey, but this one was special....
Scenery special. Explosion of vegetation, colours from trumpets blue, scarlet, orange, yellow and cotton. Wild water tumbling headlong over crests and steep gorges lifting mist and spray. Great forrests of Eucalyptus and Pine, ferrocious ferns, fruit full. Family and market gardens of abundant variety and tea mountains afar. People busy, children waving, cows grazing. Mountain villages, bustling towns, bikes ,buses and all between. Birds and bees, dogs and monkeys. Will this noisy bumpy jouney ever end. Though a wonderful experience I well recommend.
All for now.
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