Touch down in Sri Lanka

OMG I’m tired. Currently laying on the bed in our very own base in Galle after a l o n g trip with hardly any decent sleep for the last 36hr. And my feet have decided to swell. Perfect!
I guess I should start from the start.
I’m feeling lazy so In a nut shell, we took off from Mumbai 2am, landing in Sri Lanka 4.30am. An 18yr old chap called Chris (and I managed to guess his name, yes he really looked like a chris! Leon guessed Simon) said we look like weird travelling hippies and could he hang out with us. I took it as a compliment that a) an 18yr old wanted to hang out with us, and b) we look like weird travellers! I took my natural older sister position and we trundled off to migration. 2nd stamp in the passport woop! Why is that so exciting?
So Chris was like an excitable Labrador, and it emerged he is a gap year drama analysis student (?). We emerge from the airport, and Chris is being all super lovely to everyone and making us a sitting target for the SWARMS of touts trying to coerce us into their taxis. I was rather grouchy and telling them to go away, but Chris seemed to just keep talking to them! Bless him, BUT! It’s kinda grinding my gears. We really need to rid ourselves. So he ‘haggles’ us a taxi for 1900 rupees with the nicest of the vulctures and we are off to Colombo. Now this chap is lulling us into a false sense of security about the Sri Lankan drivers. Cos It’s 5.30am.
Now in Colombo, Chris wants to be dropped at his hostel and wanted us to wait for him. No worries. I couldn’t let him get eaten alive. Nothing opens until 8am anyhow.
So we go towards the ‘beach’ which is like a demolition site + human excrement, and vigorously working out old Sri Lankan men. Odd. It’s already 30 degrees. Anyone who does this is clearly insane. We head back from the giant mecano dystopia towards the ‘fort’ and a ‘slave island’ he desperately wanted to see, and we trot after him like reluctant parents. All we want is an iced drink, breakfast and sleep. On our way, we bump into a Buddhism teacher who tells us their is an elephant ceremony and we need to get in a tuk tuk. NO WAY! I like the lad, but I don’t wish to be ripped off again. Chris is beyond containable, so we usher him into the tuk tuk and part ways with his phone number to meet later possibly.
Phew! Now we want shade, drink, and bed in that order. We find shade. Yet another taxi driver pulls up; ‘you look like you need help, where do you want to go?’ I secretly wanted to see the elephant, but was not about to risk my life in a tuk tuk with a stranger, so we ask to be taken their.

On arrival to this elaborate temple, Leon and I feel quite awkwardly British but follow suit and touch Ganesh (the elephant statue) obiediently pressing our hands into a praying shape. What the hell am I doing? I stop, quite embarrassed, and continue to traipse through I sense, golden Buddhas (or buddi?) and more lotus flowers than you can shake a stick at! I have to admit, it’s at most garish, and at worst, exploitation of people’s imagination. I can’t even get into the world’s most easy going religion. Nope. I don’t care for pomp and ceremony. Belief in love prevailing, and some light hearted yoga is the closest I can get.
So 600 rupees lighter (after they quoted 400), I even feel ripped off by monks! No more now! Or we will be broke before we start off!
So we decide to grab an iced coffee and get a taxi to Galle, where our apartment is. Wifi won’t work so can’t even get an Uber. How did Uber suddenly become an ‘I can’t live without this’ thing?
So we get a cab that is the single most terrifying 2hr of my life. He drove on the wrong side of the road on blind corners, he relentlessly babbed his horn, and on several occasions I saw my life before my eyes. Poor Leon’s hand still has nail marks in. And I don’t frighten that easy. I felt myself cross that Leon wasn’t telling him to slow and then cross at myself for not piping up. Tiredness and hunger is warping my mind. Leon slept through most of the rest of it!
We finally get to the most beautiful destination and the Chinese host, Marco, has us a beer, chocolate and a friendly face. He also tells me the train is 180 rupees each. We just paid 6000! Drat! I thought approx £30 was reasonable for a 2hr door to door. In fact I think I would pay it again if the driver wasn’t so haphazard.

So the blog that is only a short one as I’m knackered, has ended up longer than ever. Urgh. Bed now. 3pm over and out.

It’s over 40 degrees, I’m dying LOL!

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