Travelling in Sri Lanka
While travelling around Sri Lanka we used just about every mode of transport except a bullock cart.
The prize for the most uncomfortable goes to the no. 27 bus from Wellawaya to Unawatuna. It was the only way to get from the tea-producing hill country down to the coast without hiring a car and driver. The start of the journey was fine, we were taken by tuk-tuk from our guest house in Haputale to the local bus station and escorted onto a spacious local bus to Welawaya down in the foothills. Within a few minutes of arriving in Welawaya we were hot, stressed and hassled by lots of locals wanting a piece of us and giving confusing information about where and when the buses for the coast left. I've finally learned something that Sue has known for years about these situations, which is don't get infected with other people's sense of urgency - if you're feeling hassled just stop and say "no thank you", find a cafe if possible and sit down and have a drink. This we did and after about half an hour we got the no. 27. The next five hours passed in conditions not unlike a crowded London Underground train in the rush hour, except that the temperature was thirty-five centigrade and Sri Lankans have practically no sense of personal space. We squeezed our way out at the other end hot, sweaty and exhausted, though to be fair the conductor and our fellow passengers had all done what they could to make us feel comfortable within the constraint that if you leave a one-centimetre gap on the seat next to you someone will try to wiggle at least one bum cheek onto it. I even got a Facebook friend out of the experience - nice to meet you Tensin!
Probably the best way to get around is to use the Sri Lankan railway network. Our most picturesque trip was from Kandy to Haputale. For this journey we booked the first class observation car, which is rather like travelling in a 1930s cinema complete with faded green plush velvet seats. This is a four-hour journey which winds its way up into the tea plantations to a height of about two thousand metres. The train labours its way through increasingly green and lush countryside past picture book railway stations complete with hanging baskets and flower beds with the station name picked out in border plants. At times the train seems to almost double back on itself as it climbs a steep hill before crossing a cast iron bridge spanning a ravine. The observation car has a large picture window facing the rear of the train and through this one can see the railway line instantly reinstated as a footpath, as tea-plantation workers and others file back onto the track which they had just left to allow the train to pass.
At the end of our holiday we had a very different rail journey from Galle to Columbo. We couldn't book seats and there was no first class available and so we bought tickets for second class. When the train pulled into Galle it was already packed and in the end we had to force our way into a third class carriage where we managed to find standing room and seat space for half a person, which Sue and I shared for the three-hour duration. I guess this was the closest we came to the experience of most working class Sri Lankans who need to get from A to B. The carriage was not just packed, but the isle was used by a steady stream of vendors and beggars literally climbing over and under the people to market their wares. The most disturbing was a poor woman hideously deformed by leprosy. One enterprising guy selling cheap balloons wore a multi-coloured frizzy wig, which immediately put a smile on everyone's face and had the kids tugging at their parents' arms to buy them one. It was a relief to get out at Columbo even though this meant being assaulted by various con-men and main-chancers.
To add to the transport collection we also hired a scooter for a day and bicycles for a couple of days. Both are great ways to get around, not least because they provide immunity from being stopped by tuk-tuk drivers and render one less visible to hawkers, who expect to see tourists on foot and travelling at three miles per hour. On one occasion in Galle I managed to overtake a bus on a bicycle with only one working gear and received a loud cheer from the queue at a nearby bus stop.
Despite the discomforts, travelling around Sri Lanka was generally a pleasure, because most of the people we met were friendly and helpful and around every turn one's senses are assaulted by an eclectic mix of sights, sounds and dazzling light and colours.
The prize for the most uncomfortable goes to the no. 27 bus from Wellawaya to Unawatuna. It was the only way to get from the tea-producing hill country down to the coast without hiring a car and driver. The start of the journey was fine, we were taken by tuk-tuk from our guest house in Haputale to the local bus station and escorted onto a spacious local bus to Welawaya down in the foothills. Within a few minutes of arriving in Welawaya we were hot, stressed and hassled by lots of locals wanting a piece of us and giving confusing information about where and when the buses for the coast left. I've finally learned something that Sue has known for years about these situations, which is don't get infected with other people's sense of urgency - if you're feeling hassled just stop and say "no thank you", find a cafe if possible and sit down and have a drink. This we did and after about half an hour we got the no. 27. The next five hours passed in conditions not unlike a crowded London Underground train in the rush hour, except that the temperature was thirty-five centigrade and Sri Lankans have practically no sense of personal space. We squeezed our way out at the other end hot, sweaty and exhausted, though to be fair the conductor and our fellow passengers had all done what they could to make us feel comfortable within the constraint that if you leave a one-centimetre gap on the seat next to you someone will try to wiggle at least one bum cheek onto it. I even got a Facebook friend out of the experience - nice to meet you Tensin!
Probably the best way to get around is to use the Sri Lankan railway network. Our most picturesque trip was from Kandy to Haputale. For this journey we booked the first class observation car, which is rather like travelling in a 1930s cinema complete with faded green plush velvet seats. This is a four-hour journey which winds its way up into the tea plantations to a height of about two thousand metres. The train labours its way through increasingly green and lush countryside past picture book railway stations complete with hanging baskets and flower beds with the station name picked out in border plants. At times the train seems to almost double back on itself as it climbs a steep hill before crossing a cast iron bridge spanning a ravine. The observation car has a large picture window facing the rear of the train and through this one can see the railway line instantly reinstated as a footpath, as tea-plantation workers and others file back onto the track which they had just left to allow the train to pass.At the end of our holiday we had a very different rail journey from Galle to Columbo. We couldn't book seats and there was no first class available and so we bought tickets for second class. When the train pulled into Galle it was already packed and in the end we had to force our way into a third class carriage where we managed to find standing room and seat space for half a person, which Sue and I shared for the three-hour duration. I guess this was the closest we came to the experience of most working class Sri Lankans who need to get from A to B. The carriage was not just packed, but the isle was used by a steady stream of vendors and beggars literally climbing over and under the people to market their wares. The most disturbing was a poor woman hideously deformed by leprosy. One enterprising guy selling cheap balloons wore a multi-coloured frizzy wig, which immediately put a smile on everyone's face and had the kids tugging at their parents' arms to buy them one. It was a relief to get out at Columbo even though this meant being assaulted by various con-men and main-chancers.
To add to the transport collection we also hired a scooter for a day and bicycles for a couple of days. Both are great ways to get around, not least because they provide immunity from being stopped by tuk-tuk drivers and render one less visible to hawkers, who expect to see tourists on foot and travelling at three miles per hour. On one occasion in Galle I managed to overtake a bus on a bicycle with only one working gear and received a loud cheer from the queue at a nearby bus stop.
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