This tale starts with a hangover. Of course it does. 12 glasses of wine and 3 gin and tonics later I was up and ready for my flight. It was not ideal. It never is when you have Burger King for breakfast. And off I went from Sydney to Colombo. 

I decided to go home via Sri Lanka. Mainly because I wanted to break up the morbidly long journey back to the UK but also because our travel buddy Gemma had a few weeks off work and she also wanted to go somewhere new. Sri Lanka was on the list and it fit well, I’d meet Gemma there. Unfortunately, Lyvette couldn’t make it so we had to ditch her and move on…

From Colombo I boarded the train to Mirissa where I was meeting Gemma. Naturally I spent the journey up front with the driver honking the horn and driving the train. That’s when you know you’re back in Asia. Then I saw the whiskey bottle next to the driver’s chair. It was half full. And then the real driver (not me) started drinking from it. Brilliant, I thought, just brilliant. Welcome to Asia.

Now, if you’ve read our previous blogs you will know that when Gemma hits the sun she tans. And I mean really tans. She’s been mistaken for a Jamaican before. And when it’s dark the only bits of her you can see are the whites of her eyes. Previously in Asia people have in fact asked us why we were being followed by a pair of eyeballs. We just reassured them it was Gemma and she was just so tanned she blended into darkness. Nothing to fear here. So, when I got to Mirissa, I was shocked to find that the Jamaican had been replaced by a lobster. We shall hence forth rename her ‘the Lobster’. Gemma was burnt. Nothing could have surprised me more. Apparently, Sri Lankan sun cream isn’t very good. And Sri Lanka can be very hot, as we found out when Gemma finally understood the tanning traumas that most of us white British people go through.

The next day myself and the Lobster decided to get the bus to Ella, which is a beautiful little town in the mountains. “There’s a great bus that can take us there. I’ve researched it. It has air con (perfect in this 2000 degree heat) and reclining seats” the Lobster assured me. “Are you sure?” Yes, she was sure. After all, she’d researched it. And this was all she had talked about for the last 24 hours.

There was no air con. No reclining seats. There was no such bus. And clearly some very bad research. That’s all you need, a Lobster that lies.

This bus journey was when we learned that you have to pay for a seat for your backpack. It can’t go in the boot or on the floor. It needs its own seat. No one cares about the old man with a crutch standing up, rammed into the aisle with 23 other people, or the pregnant woman unable to find a seat. Because your bag got there first. Because naturally a bag needs a seat. Bags get tired too, don’t you know. By the time we arrived in Ella, the Lobster had regained some of her normal skin colour and was no longer lobsteresque. She will now return to her usual name of ‘Gemma’. She’d booked us into an 8 bed dorm with wifi, in a hostel that was 400m from the train station (which was relatively close to where he alighted the bus). Now, maybe Sri Lanka uses different measurements of metres than the rest of the world, maybe they actually measure metres in km’s or miles. Whatever they use, this accommodation was not 400m from the train station. It was, however, up a hill. Very up a hill. On a very narrow street. And then I got crushed by a car. My and my backpack were wedged with a wall on my chest and a car on my behind. Unable to move I just stood, crushed, until the car decided to graze past me and continue on its merry way, taking my backpack and bum cheeks with it. I didn’t want them anyway…
So we arrived at the accommodation that was not 400m from the train station and very up a hill to find there was no 8 bed dorm, no wifi, no water and no electricity. Interesting. We had to find the room via candlelight, couldn’t flush the toilet and found an empty Snickers wrapper stuck to the bed. Gemma had a breakdown. First the non air con/reclining seat bus (that she had researched) and was so looking forward to, next the very-not-what-was-advertised accommodation and two very sweaty travellers. So, after informing the family this was not what they had advertised we legged it, found somewhere else to stay and Gemma was happy again. Plus, she no longer smelt of BO and didn’t have the need to douse herself in Aloe Vera to sooth her burning lobster skin. On a side note, I’d become very attached to the Lobster.

In Ella we hiked Small Adam’s Peak at sunrise which was great. Then we ventured round a tea plantation wearing some very sexy overshoes and visited the nine arches railway track. It was a great day of touring, and Ella was kind on the eyes.

From Ella we got the train to Nuwara Eliya, where a man dressed as a sailor wafted us into the carriage and signalled for the train to continue. At first I thought he’d misplaced his boat in the mountains but then I realised he was the train conductor. In Nuwara Eliya we visited World’s End in Horton Planes, which again was a nice hike with a nice view. From here we headed to Kandy on the most beautiful train journey I have even been on. We’d heard it was lush, and it really was – I highly recommend. What made it even better was the party going on in 3^rd class. The guys were jamming and jiving and just getting down. Meanwhile the kids were casually playing cricket on the train tracks, completely unfazed by the oncoming train. They survived.

We spent all of 10 minutes in Kandy before heading to Dumbella on another bus, prepared for no air con, no reclining seats and ready to deprive the elderly and ill, because our bags were extremely fatigued and deserved a seat. We arrived in Dumbella when it was dark and we weren’t sure where to get off the bus:
Us: “Where shall we get off?”
Ticket collector: “Get off at the small dancer”
Us: “The where?”
Ticket collector: “The small dancer”

Ok. Yeah. Sure. We’ll definitely do that.

So off we got, frantically searching for this small dancer. Needless to say, to this day, we have absolutely no idea what the ‘small dancer’ is. But I’m going to use that one when people ask me for directions…”turn left at the small dancer”.

From Dumbella we climbed Pidurangala (opposite the Sigiriya). Gemma, the dumbass, did it in flip flops. And then we headed back to Kandy on yet another bus where Gemma attracted a man with a big zit on his face. He was annoying, not because of the zit (I’m not zitist) but because, basically, he was a stalker. And a weirdo. Gemma moved seats, he followed. He invited her to his house, she declined. He asked her where she was staying, she lied. He asked for her phone number, she stared at his zit and informed him that the cost of calls to the UK would be extortionate. And then 2.5hrs later we reached Kandy and exited the bus. With the zit faced stalker in tow. Eventually we jumped into a tuk tuk and managed to ditch him. After the tuk tuk driver had kindly informed zit faced stalker where we were staying. And then the tuk tuk driver took us to our next hostel, casually swigging from his 1 litre bottle of vodka. Interesting. We’ve learnt that sometimes it’s best to say nothing and hope that death can be avoided. Anyway, we arrived at the hostel, which was a shop. Yes, you heard it correctly. A shop. A shop that was ran by a youth who found it more appropriate to play on his phone than tend to the fact the shop hostel was actually devoid of beds. And I’d say beds are quite an important feature of a hostel. Even if it is actually a shop. So, there we all sat until 9.30pm waiting for beds and bedding to enter the shop.

You may be noticing a theme here – there seems to be a lot of false advertising in Sri Lanka. If you expect wifi, the reality is no electricity or water. If you expect a room, the reality is a shop. If you expect beds, don’t. You’re entirely wrong to expect things that have been advertised, so don’t do it.

From Kandy we headed back to the beaches where we spent the last days tanning and not burning in Hikkaduwa. Then it was time to say goodbye, yet again, to Gemma the Jamaican. Gemma went home and I spent my last few days surfing and standing on turtles (not on purpose) in Weligama. It was here that I booked into the hostel with a bar. There was no bar. Obviously.

So that, in a nutshell, was Sri Lanka, a beautiful country, lots of nice beaches, surfing and hikes – worth a trip, but not somewhere I’d travel for months.

So let’s quickly summarise some key things to note when visiting Sri Lanka: 

• When on a bus, your bag requires a seat. Which you will pay for. Try not to feel sorry for the people who cannot sit down due to said bag taking up essential seating. It’s ok to be embarrassed, and normal to avoid eye contact. The locals are used to it though, so they won’t hold it against you. We hope.
• Nobody in Sri Lanka has grey hair. I swear I didn’t see one person.
• The locals will all drink from large, glass alcohol bottles. It may be water, it may not. We hope it is. Note: we do actually think it is water.
• Gemma attracts weirdos. The more zits the better.
• Most towns have a bakery tuk tuk. And an ice cream van tuk tuk. It’s great. Definitely flag them down and make a purchase.
• Look out for the Small Dancer. It may be a very important factor when getting directions. And if you ever find out what it actually is, please let us know.
• Don’t be scared for the kids playing cricket on the train lines. Even if there is a train approaching at high speed. They are like cricket whippet ninja’s. They’re pro’s. They got this.
• The sun cream is shit. Take your own.
• It is a beautiful country. Be prepared to hike (it’ll be worth it). And definitely take the train from Ella to Kandy.
• Don’t stand on a turtle. You feel bad. The turtle feels bad. Everybody feels bad.
• When leaving you have to go through about 4 different security checks. One to enter the airport. One when you’re inside the airport. One after you’ve checked in and one to board the plane. It takes about 3 days, so be prepared.
• And the most important rule of all: DO NOT believe any piece of information given to you when booking accommodation. It’s lies. All lies.

Thanks Sri Lanka – you were beautiful and your people were lovely, as were your beaches and views! Take care of that Small Dancer for us…