Colombo - nearing the end of our trip

    Yesterday we headed towards Colombo - typical city: traffic, crowds, and diesel fumes. Our vacation was drawing to a close in the most appropriate way... Showing us people on their way to work, school or errands. Soon it would be us who would be climbing into work clothes and proper shoes and placing our noses to the grindstone. But for today, we are still on island time, just hanging out and spending time together.
    Between shopping for essentials like Sri Lankan cooking implements, black tea and such, and going to visit my mother's 97-year old aunt, we spent time at the pool here at Mt Lavinia Hotel.
     This grand old colonial hotel hugs the coast just south of Colombo, has a broad white terrace and strategically placed palm trees just right for photo ops. The sea was too rough for swimming today but we hope to have some nice walks along the sand tomorrow.
    On one hand, the past two weeks seem to have lingered as we took in so many sights and experiences, yet on the other, I feel as if we've flown through the air to get to where we are now.
    Our home seems far away now and I'm finding myself thinking of my old routine: walking in the early morning, riding my bike to work, feeling useful in my office, cooking dinner with Duane, seeing our sweet cats and spending time in our garden.
    Be it ever so humble, as they say, there truly is no place quite like home. My own pillow, my comfort zone, my refuge. But for now, we have one more day to spend here before we depart for the familiar.

Life at the beach - Day 2 Wadduwa

    The entire day was a study in relaxation. And this is not an easy task for a Type A personality like me. I like to keep moving because there is so much I want to do, to accomplish, to experience.
    But: yesterday.
    A morning walk at the beach, sand between toes and feeling the briny air toss our hair and coat our skin, led to a fine do-nothing day.
    We transitioned from the pristine pool to the patio table to the beach and back again. This was our work for the day. Because I have a hard time relaxing, I usually say that when I am 'accomplishing nothing' then I am finally relaxing. Yesterday I was truly chillen out.
    Even dinner was as laid back an event as could be. The beach shack restaurant that Rachel and Tim had scoped out the night before became our cuisine du jour.
    Our table had already been set on the sand by the time we arrived, and our server (a young German woman who had come for holiday and decided to stay longer) took our drink order. Pretty soon, a car backed out of the driveway headed for the kade' down the street where beer was sold, returning with the bottles we asked for.
    Meanwhile in the kitchen, the chef/proprietor Jani cleaned and fried an enormous snapper fish. How he seasoned it and cooked it crisp on the outside and succulent juicy on the inside was a culinary mystery. Then the sweet & sour prawns arrived, along with rice and bowls of dhal, tempered potatoes, coconut sambol and salad. When the large bowl of prawn curry was finally set on the table, we dove right in.
    Using the implements nature gave us and eschewing the metal forks and knives on the table, we enthusiastically, barbarically peeled shrimp with our fingers and ate. And ate.
    Across the ocean, the sun set in pink, steel grey and blue. Even our sunset was lazy and subdued.
    When dinner was finished (by this I mean plates were empty except for shells and bones) two guys - exact job description unknown - piled wood high and lit a bonfire. From our table we could feel the gusts of warmth brought in by the ocean breeze.
    Returning to the hotel, we all met in the lounge overlooking the pool for a nightcap of tea and buttery sweet biscuits and planned the next day when we'd be thrust headlong into the chaos and tumult that is Colombo. Big city, here we come!
     

Back to the beach - Blue Water, Wadduwa

    As remarkable as the climb from lowland to hill country had been, the change was just as interesting in reverse. Small roadside bodegas (kade' in Sinhalese) sold everything from cold drinks to fresh fish and vegetables. Slowly gaps began to appear between the shops where large homes stood within gated compounds.
    Eventually, the homes turned into supermarkets and professional buildings and schools as we entered more populated areas. Soon we were seeing highway overpasses and sidewalks full of pedestrians. Nearing Colombo, the capital, it was just another weekday in the city.
    But our destination was still ahead - the seaside town of Wadduwa on the southwestern coast. There the hotel called Blue Water, designed by Sri Lankan architect Geoffrey Bawa, uses elements of water, earth and sky for inspiration. The rooms are whitewashed, teak wood accents, polished concrete floors, indigo blue tile and water flows from the reception desk all the way to the pool.
   The agenda today: dip in the pool, glasses of fresh lime juice, and walks along the beach. Mission accomplished!
   

Horton Plains and World's End

    How does one accurately describe a hike to the end of the world? I'm not sure but I'll tell you how we got to World's End.
    Our trip to Horton Plains National Park began early, right around 6 AM. The sky was bright but the sun had yet to appear above the horizon. When we finally ascended the hilly plateau where the park is located, the sun had risen and was beginning to warm the stones and tree tops.
    Horton Plains lies within Sri Lanka's only cloud forest - a place where more than half the annual precipitation comes from the dense banks of fog that roll through on a regular basis.
   We hiked under full sun but felt only a little of its heat because we passed through forests of primeval-looking trees that resembled the giant ferns that grew during Jurassic times. All around us ruby red rhododendrons the size of trees stood clustered in thickets. The path alternated between hard packed dirt in hues of crimson, orange and ocher, and rocky stretches that required not only deft footing but also stair-climbing efficiency. I paused numerous times just to catch my breath.
    When we arrived at last to the place called World's End, we found a sheer precipice more than 4,000 feet above the forest floor. The viewing platform was constructed of sturdy concrete but as there was no railing or guard rail, even catching a glimpse of what lay below was an experience in controlling vertigo and trusting that your legs didn't go wobbly at the last minute.
   We skirted the noisy and irreverent cluster of tourists and found a quiet corner to just sit on huge rocks and take in the cool air. Bubbling little springs emerged from under rocks to form the headwaters of three of the island's rivers: the Mahaveli, the Kelani and the Walawe. Baker's Falls dumped enough water over a sheer black rocky outcropping to mist the mosses, lichen, flowers and trees that grew a good distance away.
    At the end of our hike, we'd walked nearly seven miles, most of it either downhill or uphill (both ways!). But it was a location never to be forgotten as well as an accomplishment in physical endurance. Feet firmly on solid ground never felt so good!

Nuwara Eliya Day 2 - exploring and basking

    As quick and frenetic as our pace had been, the brakes were now clamped down hard. Even our van stayed in the parking lot until well into the afternoon.
   Breakfast was unhurried and leisurely. After another hearty meal, we opted for the "nature walk" which had our guide Muthi walk us through herb gardens, row upon row of tea bushes, and up precipitous hillsides to get the best view. If we had been expecting a meandering stroll, what we got was a two-hour bush-whacking jungle trek. It was grueling and rewarding.
   James worried about snakes and I worried about spiders, but we encountered neither. Rachel saw a large rabbit bounding through the semi-jungle. Muthi hushed us with a raised finger to the lips a few times when he thought he heard an elk at the edge of the forest, but unless it was deaf, it had clearly gone scampering. We tasted wild husk cherries and tiny native strawberries, crushed handfuls of fennel fronds to release the scent, and learned about the three top leaves of tea that become a lovely beverage when dried and cured. We hiked past hillsides of women plucking the precious leaves by hand.
    Muthi explained the workers' schedules, how their children attended nearby schools and how each family was allotted a small garden plot where they grew their own vegetables: leeks, beets, carrots, lettuce, cabbage.
    Their homes were sturdily built and colorfully washed in pinks, turquoises or mustard yellows, but incredibly tiny for full families. Windows were flung open to catch the cool morning breezes and freshly washed clothes hung drying in the sun. Life was insanely simple here but intrinsically beautiful.
    In the late afternoon, I indulged in a pedicure. The one I'd had before leaving home was no match for this one... Incense, quiet treatment and the feeling of total pampering. Simple and beautiful!

Nuwara Eliya - tea plantations in Little England

    Serpentine roads pointed in the direction of the rain clouds in the distance, climbing, climbing. Our mid-trip respite was now within reach. After making our way across the island from westside coast, to central lowlands, to the hills of the upcountry plateau to temperate hill country, spending only one night in each place, we would be staying three nights and four days in the lushest, coolest terrain possible in a tropical country.
    Already, we could see the bright green terraces of tea bushes gracing the steep hills and flowers of every color lining the narrow roads. Everywhere was color, and being Sunday, everyone seemed to be out, hanging out on verandahs or shopping in the towns.
    The day started out with a hearty breakfast of hoppers - a crispy rice flour crepe served with fish and vegetable curries. This was the one delicacy that the first-timers had yet to try.
    Then we strolled through the Peradeniya Botanical Garden and made a quick stop at Peradeniya University where my mom attended college. She posed by her old residence hall and said that it was much nicer in those days (when it was only three years old versus sixty-five!). She told of freshmen girls going through a bit of 'hazing' when the senior girls made them sing the national anthem while standing in the courtyard fountain. Oh, kids!
     Our room's view overlooks the verdant hills and the terrace we want to enjoy later. The windows are open to catch the cool air breezes. Life is simply good here. It is also just the speed we need: s.l.o.w...

Sigiriya - ancient fortress and palace

    From the white road signs announcing "elephant crossings" we knew we were stepping into the thickest jungle. Roads were now narrowing into single-tracks that two cars sometimes had to carefully maneuver to pass each other. Once, an older man driving a tuk-tuk turned ice cream truck got so close that our van's side mirror got tweaked and we heard a scraping sound as he passed the rear of the van. There was no road rage. Our driver simply got out, inspected the minor damage and told the other man, "forget it - just go!"
    We watched as a young elephant stood in a tiny stream and trumpeted water on his head. What a majestic and beautiful animal!
    In the cooler afternoon, we began our ascent of the Sigiriya fortress and palace. Sitting atop a natural geologic formation, an early Sri Lankan king long ago chose the spot for a palace and evidently his workers hopped to it and planned a small city up top, complete with bathing pools, buildings, murals of beautiful women on walls, and spectacular views of the land all around. They had aqueducts feeding water fountains in the lush gardens and a moat filled with crocodiles. 

    For us, the climb from the entrance halfway up where two giant lion paws lead the way to the summit at 660 feet was treacherous and nerve-wracking. We clung onto sturdy steel stairways and railings and wondered how the kings and their entourages managed... Did they climb, all sweaty and rubber-knees or were they carried, and if so, which would be more frightening?

    The view was spectacular and we stayed at the top as long as we could, enjoying strong gusting winds and bracing for the descent.

    Later that evening, we learned that our son had taken this awesome location to ask the love of his life to marry him! We toasted to them at dinner and were thrilled to have yet another wonderful memory to add to this trip.

Kandy - land of kings and queens

    Though our drive today meandered through miles upon miles of lush green roadways, our arrival at The Queen's Hotel placed us right in the middle of a busy, noisy Kandy town.
   When we arrived, our "welcome drink", a staple of these lovely hotels, was a thick creamy mango juice. It was a welcome treat.
    The Queen's Hotel is a grand old property. Once the home of the British governor on his visits to the territory of Kandyan kings, it is now facing competition from newer fancier hotels, our server at dinner tells us. Somehow his kind demeanor makes us prefer this place to the glitzier locations.
    All day, steel-gray clouds hovered overhead and finally broke in a refreshing sprinkle. We walked along Kandy Lake and could see Peradeniya University up on the hill. Compared to the last place we stayed - a serene getaway in the jungle, Kandy is a concrete jungle of deafening market hawkers shouting, "what do you want Madame, come take a look" and busy sidewalks and the alternating smell of diesel exhaust and shops selling fried snacks and pastries.
    Dinner is a five-course meal with lots of different forks and knives and impeccable service, a huge contrast to our last rustic setting at Sigiriya.
   Tomorrow, we will continue on to what promises to be an even more striking contrast: the weather in Nuwara Eliya - high in the tea-region upcountry is predicted to be chilly and in the 60s.
    Finally, the jacket I brought to a tropical country won't feel ridiculous!

Anuradhapura - the ancient city

    I awoke to the foreign sound of an air conditioner pumping cool dry air into our hotel room. Even with the piped-in chill, the underlying humidity was palpable.
    Last night we ate dinner at a family run eatery that came highly recommended from TripAdvisor.com. The seafood tasted fresh and spicy. We talked about the highlights and lowlights of our first day. Already, we had gathered take-away ideas and had begun adapting ourselves to a place in the world to which we were unaccustomed.
    After our first day navigating the lanes and byways of Negombo town, we headed north and west towards the lowlands from the bustling coast. Just like when traveling in the US, the shops, people and cars became fewer and further between as we began to see fields of greenery. But instead of the tall waving and rustling leaves of corn, we were seeing rice paddy fields shimmering low and brilliant green. The site already felt a little drier and began to lose the salty, sticky feeling of ocean air. At one point, the van came to a full stop as a herd of water buffalo walked casually down the middle of the road; they were headed from their farm home down to the river for a cool dip. It was a ritual they completed every day, half tame, half wild.
    Our driver Ranjith proved his worth again and again as he spotted a photo shop where Rachel could get some 35mm film and took us to a roadside vendor of king coconut for a refreshing drink.
    When we finally arrived in Anuradhapura, it was too hot to explore in the midday heat but around 3:30, we began our tour of the ancient city. The site was still warm but giant trees shaded us while we wandered the remains of a once-thriving city of 10,000 Buddhist monks, with stone columns, bathing pools, and the glorious half-circle moonstones carved out of granite that had served as threshold to the most sacred places.
    As the sun set on our second day, our final stop was to see the sacred bo tree - the 2000+ year-old tree was a sapling brought over from India and transplanted here. Buddhists believe that the mother tree was the one that Buddha achieved enlightenment under. It is a very sacred spot for them and there were devotees dressed in pure white gathered bringing flowers and offering prayers and incense. We had to remove shoes and walk barefoot on the sand walkways and cover our shoulders and down to our knees - even the men!
    At the end of the long day, we ate a spicy and delicious meal of stringhoppers, a steamed rice noodle served with vegetables and meat. Finally in our rooms, we went to sleep exhausted.

Each and every moment

    The photo albums from our last trip to Sri Lanka have come off the shelf, as I reminisce on how young Josh looked at 17, with a long black pony tail, and how small Rachel was at 10, athletic and sassy.
    As usual the days leading up to any anticipated event are harried and hectic, as you struggle to finish last minute tasks. I've wished away the intervening hours, even entire days, as I set my sights on the best parts to come.
    It seems we are often looking so far ahead that we bypass those minutes, hours and days as obstacles to be gotten through in order to get to the good stuff. I fear that, as with all good and delicious things, my time with family will fly by while I am engrossed in the goal just up ahead. 
    My objective for the next two weeks will be to relish each and every present moment. To live it fully by feeling all the feels and viewing all the views. Even in those times when I would customarily be awaiting the next sight or destination, I will attempt to breathe the air of that instant and absorb the surroundings such that I notice small things that a busy life would normally gloss over.
    Then at the end when I stitch together all those individual snapshots in time, I hope that the meaning and the purpose will emerge.

Negombo, Sri Lanka