It was now Friday, August 4, 2006. We were met at the Colombo, Sri Lanka airport after midnight by Romal, who was to be our guide and teacher throughout our Sri Lanka sojourn. By the time we reached our destination for the night at the Colombo Hilton, it was after 2:00 am…typical arrival time for Asian travel.

We spent the next two or so weeks in Sri Lanka, until August 19, at which time we headed back to Bangkok and established “ex-pat” residence there.

To ease the exercise of telling about our Sri Lanka visit, the format of this narrative will be a little different than the previous ones. The reader will be relieved by the fact that she or he will not be subjected to an obsessive, painstaking, blow by blow description of each and every day, and each and every event occupying these days. Rather, we will share mostly the highlights and general impressions of the trip, spending more time on our personal impressions and perceptions instead of trying to produce a scholarly masterpiece of erudition and minutia.

In brief, the island of Sri Lanka is an independent Republic and almost a universe all of its own; in fact some, in ancient times, thought it to be a continent. It would take years to understand even the basics about the geography, history, anthropology, religions and ethnic make up of the island…and so the following cannot even rank as a high school dissertation on the subject … our “Sesame Street” version of its more than 2000 year history is thus, as follows:

Sri Lanka was first settled by the Singhalese (singh means “Lion”) from India, who were Buddhist; then the Moors, came there in search of spice, and brought Islam to the island; then came the Portuguese, who brought the Catholic Church and some forts; then came the Dutch, who wanted coffee, spice and tea, bringing with them another Christian faith and a whole bunch of more forts. Eventually, the “locals”, who had, in the meantime, formed Kingdoms of their own, became disenchanted with the deals they made with the Moors, Portuguese and Dutch, called the British Empire for help. The Empire obliged and so the Brits came running, eager to save everybody. Sri Lanka became Ceylon, part of the Commonwealth, and a new culture was established with yet another religion (this time Anglican). England brought roads, railroads, other large public works, the tea industry, left hand driving, lots of other Western innovations and, of course, imperialist/colonists. The English Colonists also brought the Tamils from Southern India, who are Hindu, to work the tea plantations. The Tamils are now very unhappy, and want Independence just like the 2/3rd Sinhalese majority had secured when the island dropped out of the Commonwealth in the late 1940s and changed its name from Ceylon to Sri Lanka.

On top of all this, add the “Burghers” (sometimes referred to as “the people in the middle”), who are the descendents of the Dutch, intermarried with the Tamils and Singhalese, who might also have had Portuguese antecedents, and feel totally slighted by the Brits.

The dominant faith is Buddhism, as evidence by a proliferation of stupas and shrines throughout the country. However, there are lots of churches and Christian chapels in the South, as well as Hindu Temples, the dominant faith of the Tamils, in the North. Oh, did we mention that most Buddhist Temples have at least one shrine to a Hindu god, just to hedge their bet? As anyone can see, Sri Lanka is a whole world unto itself!

The weather was hot and humid, clearly tropical, particularly throughout the center of the country known as the Cultural Triangle; winds, which predominate along the coast, cool the temperatures slightly but true relief is in the mountains, in high tea country. There it was misty, cloudy and cool, and the contrast in both geography and climate was as dramatic as it was pleasant.

Sri Lankan food was remarkable. The cookery is exotic, very tasty and spicy, but not painfully hot – almost, but not quite, Indian. The typical meal is served by placing about a dozen dishes on the table, each containing a wide variety of uniquely seasoned vegetables or meat curries including some, like a potato-tasting legume that grows like a big squash on a tree, called “Jack-Fruit”, that were previously unknown to us.

But what really impressed us were the tropical fruits. We’ve never tasted such an exquisite proliferation of mangos, pineapples, passion fruit and papayas. We had a plate of these fruits, artfully displayed and placed before us every morning. This not only helped us greet the day cheerfully, it also made us regular – and FAT!

We drove throughout the 250 mile long, 100 mile wide tear-drop shaped island in a small Toyota Corolla on a bunch of very busy, bumpy, curvy two - and sometimes one - lane roads that were skillfully navigated by Romal. He turned out to have amazing reflexes in zooming in and out of the perpetual flow of ox carts, bicycles, dilapidated buses, motorcycles, tractors, tuk-tuks, packs of stray dogs, police road blocks and miscellany debris that cluttered the roads.

Amazingly, there is no road rage here, and Romal was angelically patient with the most outrageous maneuvers that were going on within the public right of way. While this made the trip quite a bit longer, it also made it more interesting!

The fact that he remained so unfazed by the chaos on the road was undoubtedly due to the Rock and Country radio station he had on during all the driving. Joyce really appreciated this, to the point of introducing Romal to her iPod and the five million or so songs immortalized there, plus some Bach and Beethoven to boot. It was an awakening for Romal and, under Joyce’s careful tutelage, he became an immediate addict. So much so, that every morning the iPod had to be fully re-charged in order for him to spend the following night doing the “homework” Joyce assigned him while bumping along to the next destination…it was quite an arrangement!

In the course of all this driving, where we saw a good deal of the four corners of the island, we passed small villages as well as good-sized cities. All bore third world signs; no side-walks, cattle in the streets, shops displaying retread tires right along side of hardware and household goods, all mixed in with lumber, used tuk tuks, food stores, etc…in brief, a confused jungle of noise, activities and smells…always with lots of stray dogs. So much so, that Joyce had completely abandoned all desire for a “Puppy Fix”. Despite this sense of chaos, the public ways seemed quite clean…except for the ever-present cow dung.

Our route gave us the opportunity to savor some of the unique attributes of Sri Lanka. For example, we stopped for tea on numerous occasions, exposing us to one of the island’s most notable industries; we visited a fabulous “spice garden”, one of many on the road, that regally initiated us to the richness and depth of the fragrances which exude throughout the island. Turmeric, which is a tasteless spice in the US, emerges here as something even better than Saffron; Vanilla and Cacao, in their pods and nuts, emit incredible flavors, impossible to duplicate commercially and to inhale the cardamom causes an epiphany in understanding Indian cooking! The owner of the garden was a good merchant - he treated us to some delicious spice tea and a relaxing neck and foot massage, after which we couldn’t possibly refuse to buy bags and bags of spices. Also unique to Sri Lanka is the magnificent quality and variety of the woods found there. We visited a good sized woodwork shop busy with artisans carving, polishing and painting traditional masks and other wood objects. Naturally, Peter bought a big mask, with no idea how we would carry it home - or where we would hang it once we got there. Not to be outdone, Joyce indulged one of her fetishes at the next stop, which was a Batik factory, buying a beautiful sarong which she has already worn three times, easing the agony of what to wear in unusual places.

A most remarkable interlude along the way was our visit to the “Elephant Orphanage”. This institution, if one wants to call it that, was created to collect elephants in the wild that are in some sort of trouble – orphaned, maimed, or otherwise incapacitated. They are then sheltered and brought back to health and released again in the wild when they can fare for themselves. However, it hasn’t quite worked out that way. In part because they get too used to the service to adapt, in part because their natural environment is shrinking so fast, few inmates are released to the wild. Most are kept at the orphanage, where they grow families and enjoy a life of quasi-captivity as a major, quite enjoyable, tourist attraction. The “Orphans” have a regimented life. They graze a bit in the morning, then they bathe in the river until lunch time, then its bottle feeding time for the young’uns, then they graze some more…etc. It’s not exactly cruel treatment…but somehow it misses the point. We saw another, much smaller orphanage later in the trip, not as famous as the first, and that one had a much more genuine flavor. We made contributions to both…hope the IRS will give us credit.

Though we eschewed the North, and Northeastern regions of the island, where the Tamil Tigers were having at it with the military, we managed to get a pretty wide overview of the island’s extremely diverse geography, ranging from magnificent forests of mature mahogany, ebony, teak, banyan and “umbrella” trees, to endless fields of rice paddies and, in the highland that rise to over 5,000 feet, we were treated to the stupendous carpets of low-growing, excruciatingly manicured, Ceylon tea plants covering hills and dales for miles and miles.

The cultivation and harvesting of tea is done by hand, and we saw legions of colorful sari-clad women picking leaves to be assembled, dried, sorted and processed in factories for sale to distributors and, ultimately, used by consumers.

The history of tea is interwoven with that of Sri Lanka. It seems to have had its origins with the gradual failure of coffee crops which had dominated exports until the 1870s. The Brits brought the stuff in when, years earlier, it became all the rage in Western society and the Chinese imports lost popularity. As a by-product of this initiative, the English colonists not only developed the immense expanses of manicured tea plantations, but they imported large blocks of Tamil labor from Southern India to work the fields.

Down from the heights of the tea country, we encountered the Indian Ocean, which surrounds the island. We drove all along the Southern coast, which is washed by torrential monsoons (not to mention the tsunami 2 years ago) and high seas that come crashing into a rocky shore. There are beaches, but those that we experienced were too rough and dangerous for swimming…no wonder - after all, we were on the southernmost tip of Sri Lanka with no land between us and the Antarctic!

Our journey, through and around the island, while filled with all sorts of activities, can be simplified in terms of four major stops:

• The first covered what is known as the “Cultural Triangle”, which encompasses a large central region of Sri Lanka containing many of the temples, icons, chronicles, ruins, art works and monuments which have, over the island’s two thousand year history, defined its religious and cultural life. As such, we visited caves with ancient carvings and frescoes, monasteries and stupas, including the famous Sigiriya Rock Fortress, the “Lion Rock”, which requires an exhausting 800 meter, or 1,800 step, climb to reach the top…a must for any tradition minded visitor. Peter got as far as the “cave drawings” at some 600 meters in altitude, where one can stand between the gigantic stone lion’s paws, and pose for a photo…what a reward for near exhaustion! The other reward for the awesome climb is a panoramic view of the ruins of the magnificent water gardens that adorned what is left of the mountain-top palace of King Kashyapa.
• The second stop was Kandy, the capital of Sri Lanka’s last Kingdom and the locus of the country’s preeminent festival and its most colorful pageant, a four hour procession of 100 elephants caparisoned in colorfully decorated garb, lit with hundreds of multicolored bulbs, parading majestically to the sound of a cacophony of ritualistic drums and pipes, interrupted by fire eaters, acrobats, whip crackers and many other kinds of performers on the pathway. The event is always held in August to honor the “Tooth Relic” of the Lord Buddha, the most sacred possession of the island people. There seems to be many tales about this famous tooth; some believe it is really the tooth of a crocodile and others whisper that a great ape was the source. Peter, being a science fiction aficionado, believes that technology will use the DNA of the “Tooth” to re-create the Lord Buddha…they’ll probably wind up with a white elephant.

• The third stop was a most welcome rest in the middle of the tea plantation region where we were given the opportunity to experience the life of a tea baron.
• The fourth stop, at the end of the journey, involved four days in the care of two Aman Resorts. One, Amanwella, (“Aman” meaning peace, “Wella” meaning beach), was a magnificently designed super-modern and luxurious 30 suite beach resort. Amangalla (“Galla” meaning fort), was a beautifully preserved, fully modernized stately hotel within the ramparts of an old fort famous for its history, having first served the Portuguese, then the Dutch settlers of the island and finally, the English. The hotel, however, was unabashedly British, emitting all of the symbols of its tradition that could possibly be conjured up. We were clearly imperialists staking out our Commonwealth position in Ceylon!

These four stops gave us an ample opportunity to experience Sri Lankan hostelry:

• Colombo left a lot to be desired. The Colombo Hilton, Colombo’s preeminent hotel, where we stayed upon our arrival from Bangkok, is far too far from the airport, and in the wrong direction. It took us two painful hours the next day to double back, pass the airport again, and continue on the same road towards our first destination. Moreover, the Hilton is very basic in quality, with rooms equivalent to a Holiday Inn Express. After we checked in and had barely fallen asleep, someone else tried to check into our room; seems they got the wrong key or we were given the wrong room. An hour later (it must have been 3:00 am by that time), the telephone woke us up, it was the desk wanting to confirm that we were indeed in the right room. At 6 am, they delivered room service – for the other guy! At the end of the trip, we were again forced to stay overnight in Colombo, as we had a 7 am flight to Bangkok. We checked into The Beach Hotel in Negombo, a “Jet Wing” Hotel purporting to be a very new, fashionable resort. The only good news was that it was 20 minutes from the airport. Peter would have given it a two star rating at best … until we got into the room … which turned out to be a hot-box nightmare. The air-conditioning made a lot of racket, but neither moved, cooled nor conditioned the air. If perchance sleep did come, doors slammed incessantly, forever ruining any possibility of the little rest we had hoped to get before getting up at 3:30 am for our flight to Bangkok.
• The “Elephant Corridor” in Sigiriya is a spectacular property; very high style, huge amount of space, great service, great views. The pool, spa and health club were a bit far from the sleeping accommodations, requiring golf cart service for access. Also, the prices for drinks and food were excessive, the highest of our entire trip. The private plunge pool in the living unit is a cute idea, but their orientation on the shady side of the bungalows made them very cold.
• The Kandy House was the ancestral home of the last Prime Minister to the last King of Kandy. It has been wonderful restored into a 9 room B&B and gave us a good sense of the Ceylonese colonial existence, which was and still is replete with lots and lots of help. Kandy House is extremely charming amidst exuberant tropical landscaping; nearly perfect if it were not for the fact that the place was not air conditioned…and it was hot!
• Relief from the heat, however, came at our third destination - the Tea Trails Bungalow called Castlereagh, one of 4 such Bungalows spread over 10 miles on a Tea plantation. This was our favorite stay, at least so far. The term “Bungalow” belies what is, in reality, an extremely elegant, spacious and amply serviced mansion or mini-palace. We felt like tea plantation barons. There were 5 suites and 9 staff including a Butler to tend to our every need. No matter what we asked for, we were told “… but of course, this is your home!” Even the rain and cool air added to the sense of supreme luxury. If we ever do this trip again, we would recommend at least three or four days there. We hated leaving …
• … but leave we did…for our, pardon the expression, “Safari Adventure”, at Yala Village, another Jet Wing Resort and the only accommodations in the National Park. We got what was described as the premier suite…the “Julian Suite”, which is dramatically perched three stories above the ground in a Watch Tower, and half a mile from the main service area. The extreme efforts to bring the resort into harmony with nature clearly conflicts with the subordinated need of the guests. This was not a comfortable sojourn. The service was, at best, taciturn and fraught with “attitude” (only place in Sri Lanka where we encountered this). The food, served buffet style, looked dreadful (we refrained from trying it, choosing the pool snack menu the first night and lunch the next day). The worst part, however, was the incessant noise from the water trucks revving their engines late at night and early in the morning - immediately below the resort’s premier abode - where we were trying to sleep. The fact that this is where the main water line was running was not an adequate excuse for a place that purports to make a fetish of the virtues of the peace and quiet that Mother Nature preaches. In all fairness, management heard our complaints, and treated us to a delicious seafood dinner by the pool, away from what Joyce calls the “sweaty masses”, and gave the truck drivers the next night off. We should also note that, as a safari experience, it was a lot of driving for very little game – although we did see a family of 3 leopards going to a watering hole, the daddy being the largest leopard we’ve ever spotted. But as usual, they were too far away and it was too dark to get acceptable photos.
• For the ultimate in contrast, the next destination was by far our favorite – not just in Sri Lanka, but EVER - the Amanwella Oceanfront resort near Tangalle. We were in ecstasy over the beauty of the place and the sophistication of its architecture, which Peter thought was evocative of Richard Meiers’s style. But the architect was an Australian who based his design on the work of Geoffrey Bawa, an iconic Sri Lankan architectural hero, the scion of an equally iconic Sri Lankan family. Beyond the architecture of the suites, the common areas and the facilities, we were impressed with the comfort of the accommodations, including a really usable large private plunge pool, the incredibly creative arrangement of the bath and dressing area and the integrity of the design discipline found everywhere throughout the resort. Even the smallest details were attended to, like the Swedish stainless steel bottle openers, where excellence in taste and internal consistency of style was the dominant theme. All the furniture was custom, made from the most beautiful palm wood, and the accessories were akin to merchandise found in fine boutiques. Then there was the service – 130 staff to take care of 30 suites. The managers, Raymond and Janet Perfecto, who have been with various Aman Resorts throughout the world for 9 years, were absolutely amazing, and we felt that we had made new friends by the time we left. Again, the “this is your home” theme was included in the response to every request.
• Two days later we left Galle, our last destination, and another Aman Resort, Amangalla. Quite different in style and character from Amanwella, the formal British heritage of the place clearly predominates and overwhelms the hospitality aspects of the property. We were in awe at the quality of the magnificent restoration work and antiques, and we haven’t stopped singing the praises of the English chef, who had served for the King of Jordan, and endowed Amangalla’s kitchen with Michelin star quality fare. But the general environment was a bit dour, and the fort and the street scene within its ramparts was less than charming … Carcassonne it ain’t!

As we leave this tear-drop shaped universe of an island in the Indian Ocean, at the foot of the billion population sub-continent, which is India, our thoughts turned to its future. Will the Tamil Tigers gain their elusive independence? Or will the Sinhalese Lions prevail and continue their efforts to push the island nation into the first world…if such is to be considered a good thing!

Stay tuned.