May 1, 2009 - Galle, Sri Lanka

Who says Sri Lankans don't have a sense of humor?

April 29, 2009 - Galle, Sri Lanka

We returned from our trip to discover that crows were building a nest under our radar dome and that Mike hadn't been able to gravity feed either of our propane tanks because the bleed screws on the valves were seized up. Sten had a go at trying to loosen them, but they wouldn't budge. Unfortunately, there is no place in Galle to fill propane bottles from a pressurized tank, so we had to either get those screws open or we would have to replace our American propane tanks with Sri Lankan tanks, which would likely not be compatible with valves and tanks anywhere else.

Batu, our tuktuk driver, took us and the tanks to our agent's office. As I sat in a comfortable office chair, five men gathered in a half circle around one of our propane tanks, which was sitting in the center of their glossy tile floor, and discussed the problem in a mix of Sri Lankan, English and hand gestures. They looked like nothing so much as a group of doctors consulting on a diagnosis. The recommended treatment was to take the tanks to a machine shop to have the corroded bleed screws removed, and replacement screws machined. This sounded like a much better idea to me than Sten playing with powertools around extremely flammable gas, so we took the tanks to a machine shop on Monday afternoon. Two days later, the screws have been replaced and the tanks are back at Mike's shop being filled.

It wouldn't be cruising without a few small repairs . . .

Without any propane, our cooking options have been severely curtailed. Sten has been making our morning coffee in the microwave, and we are primarily subsisting on curd and take away rotty. Not exactly sea biscuits and salt pork, but after three days it is getting a bit old. We're almost desperate enough to go out for the dreaded Sri Lankan rice and curry, but not yet.

"Curd, curd, curd, curd is the word . . ."

Sten selecting our daily ration of rotty

Now, that's a lot of dough.

We had crews from two of the other boats in the harbor over for drinks on Monday. Trying to work through an abundance of overripe Chagos provisions, I mixed up some bruschetta topping, while Sten grilled up hunks of the delicious local bread. On Tuesday, we all gathered on another boat for an early Cinco de Mayo celebration to use up our remaining limes and a delivery crew's liquor stores before they sign off their vessel. Several bottles of tequila and orange liquor went into the 'ritas, and I managed to use up most of our remaining tomatoes from the Andamans in a big batch of pico de gallo. We were having a great time, but Sten had an early appointment to make a fuel run with Batu, so we had to make it an early night, which was a good thing judging from the fog in my head this morning. Thanks to last night, I can now report that the Ayurvedic hangover cure of a bowl of water buffalo curd is nowhere near as effective as a venti iced coffee from Starbucks (which contains just about enough caffeine to stop ones heart, and then kickstart it again) paired with a sausage egg and cheese McMuffin. Even after a big bowl of curd, it was sometime before I felt up to sitting upright at the computer.

A couple pounds of the 100 metric tons of yellowfin offloaded from this longliner

This evening we headed over to Galle Fort for a walk on the ramparts at sunset. The fort was built by the Dutch East India Company in 1663. After a pleasant stroll on the fort walls, marred only by a few touts trying to sell us gems and lace or lead us to a hotel or restaurant, we made our way to the Galle Fort Hotel for dinner. The restaurant had been highly recommended by several other yachties in the harbor. They did not steer us wrong. The set menu included several delicious Indonesian and Malaysian dishes. It was so nice to revisit two of our favorite cuisines, with their complex blends of spices and flavors, and to take a break from the firey Sri Lankan food. Dinner was topped off with a mixture of terrific sorbets made with excellent local fruits. Tropical combinations like lychee and coconut, mango and lime, and pineapple and mint made us wish we had an ice cream machine onboard Mata'irea.

April 26, 2009 - Galle, Sri Lanka

We had a very early start this morning so that we could reach the Pinnewala Elephant Orphanage in time for their morning feeding and bathing. Unfortunately, our hotel's restaurant was a bit understaffed so Sampath had to make up some time on the drive south. He got us to the orphanage with minutes to spare.

We didn't really know what to expect of the elephant feeding, but quickly realized that it was not something that we needed to see. Three baby elephants were chained in a pen, waiting to be fed from bottles. The chained babies were rocking back and forth, straining against their chains, displaying the kind of behavior that one sees in an animal shelter where the animals have been waiting too long to be adopted.

Under a sign that clearly read

"Baby Elephant milk feeding is done only by the Orphanage Staff. Visitors are not allowed to feed the Elephants. Keep off from (sic) the Elephants. Please refrain from giving tips to the Staff"

tourists were tipping elephant handlers in exchange for the opportunity to have their picture taken while feeding a baby elephant from a bottle. We told Leel that we didn't need to see any more of that and headed across the street to a cafe by the river to wait for the elephants to come down to bathe. Leel and Sampath went off to have some complementary rice and curry (their reward for bringing tourists to the cafe) while we sipped overpriced sodas and waited for the elephants. Once the elephants arrived we spent an enjoyable hour watching them bathe, drink from the river, tussle, and feed on the vegetation lining the banks of the river.

We were in no hurry to leave Pinnewala as we knew that the rest of our day would basically be one long drive back to Galle. But the drive was broken up by stops at a bakery for some short eats, in a rubber tree plantation for some drinking coconuts, and at a roadside stall to buy some rambutans (furry red skinned fruit the flesh of which tastes like lychee). But the most interesting stop of the day was at Sampath's house. Sampath lives just across the street from the ocean. Or, I should say, before the tsunami he lived just across the road from the ocean. Now he lives in a new house built behind the wreckage of his old house.

Tsunami memorial in Peraliya, where 1270 passengers on the Galle to Colombo train were killed when the wave swept the train off the tracks.

Over the weekend, Sri Lanka's ruling party, the force behind the two year old military offensive against the Tamil separatists, won a landslide victory in the Western District elections. The victory speech called it a vote against terrorism and separatism. Basically, the Sinhalese Buddhists who comprise the majority of the population here just endorsed the government's recent actions in the north. Tamil Hindus, 18% of the country's population, are so outnumbered as to make them politically powerless in an electoral process.

It has been so interesting for us to compare the foreign press coverage of the situation up north to the local coverage. The local newspapers and television have been publishing the government's statements that there are only 15,000 civilians left inside the Tamil Tiger's stronghold, even as tens of thousands of refugees pour out of the conflict zone. The math just doesn't work. At our hotel last night we were finally able to see some international news coverage of the crisis and learned that the United Nations is estimating that the current numbers of trapped civilians are closer to 50,000. But how would the average Sri Lankan voting in the recent election know that? There are no international newspapers available here, except in some of the tourist hotels or online. The state controlled television news is basically one long commercial for the current administration. After showing footage of the President greeting well armed troops and sharing some rice and curry with them, the nightly news closes with a three minute long music video showing the President kissing lots of babies. Frankly, it makes Fox News broadcasts during the Bush years look downright unbiased by comparison.

April 25, 2009 - Dambulla, Sri Lanka

Since commercial stops seemed to be a significant part of the touring around here, we took matters into our own hands and asked to stop at some places that would interest us. We don't buy many souvenirs, but we are always interested in poking around an antique store. When we emerged disgruntled from a shop that was stocked with hundreds of new crafts made to look old - intsa-antiques - Leel asked it we wanted to see really old things. Um, Yes? Sampath pulled up in front of a tiny, run down shop stocked with interesting items from old Buddhist temples and temple ceremonies. This was more interesting, but the prices were a bit steep for us. Still, we enjoyed the stop.

Next on the itinerary was a stop at a spice farm, where plants are grown for use in Ayurvedic medicine. After an informative tour of the garden, we were taken to an open sided room for a product display and a brief scalp and shoulder massage. After the rubdown was over, the herbalist told us that the massage boys didn't receive a salary and that if we wanted to tip them, it would be welcomed. Now, we don't mind paying for massages, but this felt like a bit of bait and switch.

If you walk into an Aveda or Body Shop in the US, the sales staff might offer to give you a quick hand massage as a way to demonstrate their products. Or anytime you stop by a makeup counter at a department store, the saleslady will often ask you to take a seat as she demonstrates a new bronzer or eyeliner. In neither instance would they ask you to pay for it. In the Caribbean, if you take the time to sit through a timeshare sales pitch, you are often rewarded with gift certificates for dinner or a voucher for a one day car rental. Sri Lanka is the first place that we've ever been asked to pay for the privilege of sitting through a sales pitch. It seems like they have things a bit backwards. On our way back to the van we were routed through the showroom. Sten had been interested in the massage oil they used on us, but balked at paying $80 for a bottle of it. The herbalist kept pushing products at us and was clearly upset with us when we only (only!) spent $40. The whole experience left a bad taste in our mouths.

We declined the option of waiting until we reached the hotel to have lunch (having three meals there seemed excessive to us) and opted to stop at a local spot for rice and curry. Under a thatched roof, as flies swarmed around us, we dug into plates of rice accompanied by dahl and spicy curries. We were able to buy some yogurt to have between mouthfuls of spicy curry to quench the fire in our mouths and to coat our stomachs.


After lunch we dropped our bags at the hotel and headed to Sigiriya, a rock fortress built in 473AD to house a king, his queen and 500 concubines. The construction of Sigiriya took 18 years and included an impressive irrigation system that feeds rain water into a series of flowering and water gardens. The palace is long gone, but the rock, the gardens, and the thousands of steps still remain. In the middle of the afternoon heat we climbed 1202 steep steps up to the top of the rock and 1202 steps back down in the company of a local tour guide. We were initially hounded by "helpers," men who wanted to lend me a hand on the slippery, uneven steps, but they just made me feel crowded and eventually I managed to shrug them all off. On the way to the top, we passed a series of 5th century frescos, portraits of the ladies in the king's harem that are in remarkably good condition for their age. The view from the top of the rock, past the extensive gardens and out into the surrounding jungle was certainly worth the climb.

Steps,

steps,

and more steps.

After Sigiriya, we were off to Dambulla. At the top of another 300 steps, we found a Buddhist temple, tucked under a protective overhang of rock. The temple is a series of five caves. Four of the caves are natural, and the frescos and Buddhas inside are painted with natural dyes. The last cave is concrete, and was built recently by the government and painted with garish chemical paints. It is hard for us, with our American reverence for the concept of separation of church and state, to understand a supposedly democratic government building a temple. Tucked into the corner of the oldest cave, is a small Hindu temple. As we were leaving Dambulla at dusk, there was a Tamil family praying before the temple of Vishnu. We could only imagine that their prayers were for the Hindu Tamil refugees in the conflict zone in the northern part of the country.

April 24, 2009 - Kandy, Sri Lanka

Our day in Kandy began with a visit to the Royal Botanic Gardens, lovely formal gardens with brilliant displays of tropical plants. We found the orchid house in full bloom, which was a nice change for us as we usually manage to time our visits to botanical gardens in the host country's winter. One plant house contained more specimens of begonias than we knew existed. But the highlight of the garden was the specimen trees planted by visiting potentates, including princes, presidents, prime ministers, kings, queens, leading members of China's communist party, and even a czar. We made a game out of trying to find the oldest tree and the most famous planter.

While we were looking at a tree one of the grounds workers looked around surreptitiously and then leaned in and asked if we'd seen the bats or if we had ever seen a scorpion. We said that we hadn't, then he gestured for us to follow him. He lead us back into the trees, where he scared the giant bats hanging in the branches into flight so that Sten could take a picture. Then he pulled out a large orange leaf with a big black scorpion on it. We tried to tip him $0.50 for the experience, but he rejected our puny compensation and demanded a dollar. In a country where $10 a day is a living wage, we thought his price was a bit steep, but we admired his entrepreneurial spirit, so we anted up.

We could have easily spent the whole day in the garden, but Leel had other plans for us. The next stop on Leel's itinerary was a woodworking factory. We did the tour and enjoyed learning about the local hardwoods and how natural dyes are made from one of the woods; but, we weren't interested in buying anything, and quickly moved on.

The next stop was Leel's surprise of the day: a traditional Sri Lankan massage based on Ayurvedic principles. Ayervedic medicine is a holistic therapy that utilizes diet, herbs, oils, yoga and meditation to treat the root causes of illnesses. After having very oily massages, we were each placed in a long, coffin-like box and left to steam. The steamer looked like a medieval torture device and at the end I felt like a slab of poached salmon. After showering, we met with the doctor. Over plates of wonderful local fruit, including the best pineapples, mangoes and mangosteens we've ever tasted, the doctor taught us about heaty and cooling foods, a concept we'd first encountered in Singapore. He also imparted some local wisdom about hangover cures to us. Apparently, alcohol is heaty, so it is important to cool your body down afterwards. Something with a lot of fat will nullify the heaty effects of alcohol. Or, if you have too much to drink the night before and fail to balance it out with a cooling food, a nice bowl of curd the next morning will set you right. Like lunch at the Tea Factory the day before, this stop was a terrific surprise addition to our trip.

We were both completely relaxed after the massage, and would have been happy to head back to the hotel for a swim in the pool and a nap, but there were a few more stops on Leel's itinerary. He took us to a fabric store where they had some demonstration looms in the basement (on which they claim to be making fabric, but the looms and threads looked awfully dusty) and really wanted to dress me up in a sari. I declined, figuring that it would be much easier to avoid the sari sales pitch when I'm not standing around in one. After making a polite show of browsing through the wares while Leel, Sampath and Sten enjoyed a cold soda, I was ready to move on.

Next up was the gem store. As our third commercial stop of the day, we were both tempted to give it a quick run through and get on to lunch; but it actually turned out to be pretty educational. We were taken up to conference room where we watched a DVD about on how gems are mined. The miners dig a pit, the walls of which are shored up with rubber trees and lined with ferns to soak up the water leaching in through the mud. Water is constantly pumped out of the pit to keep it from filling like a well. The workers spend their days standing, squatting and digging in a muddy pool of water. Communication between the workers and the topside of the mine is achieved by speaking through a rubber hose. Buckets full of stones and mud are hoisted to the surface, where they are washed to see what stones might be present. Mining is a cooperative effort that employs many people in this mineral rich island. After the movie we were showed around the gem museum, which had samples of gems from all over the world. Then we were led through a life size model of a mine (minus the mud and water) on our way to the main event - the store. While the stones were beautiful, I thought that most of the settings seemed rather roughly done. For the third time in one day we left behind visibly disappointed shopkeepers as we walked out empty handed.

For lunch, we stopped at a bakery, where Sten and I loaded up on short eats, flaky pastries and buns filled with spicy mixtures of vegetables, fish, chicken or beef that are traditionally eaten as snacks, which we prefer to the ubiquitous rice and curry. The next stop was not on Leel's itinerary, but we can't pass up a good looking grocery store without seeing was essentials it might offer for our ship's stores. We loaded up on Sri Lankan coffee and capers before heading back to the hotel where we rested up before the evening's activities: seeing traditional dancing and visiting the Temple of the Tooth, which houses one of the Buddha's teeth.

April 23, 2009 - Kandy, Sri Lanka

This morning we boarded the train from Ella to Nuwara Eliya, formerly a British Colonial hill station and now the center of tea country. Leel arranged seats for us in the observation car of the train. After seeing us settled in, he and Sampath hit the road so that they could meet us with the van at the other end of the line. It seemed a bit odd to us to be taking a train to get someplace while our driver and guide drove there, but they assured us that the scenery was worth the trip.

As we climbed out of Ella, at approximately 3,000 feet above sea level, to Nuwara Eliya, at approximately 6,000 feet, the landscape changed dramatically. Initially, the rails wove through rice patties, ferns, flowers, banana trees and pines. But as we climbed higher, the land became more rugged, and the tracks followed a route blasted through rock, hugging the edges of mountains, and across bridges built over waterfalls.

All along the way, cows and villagers used the rails as a walkway, as they are one of the few flat paths cut through an undulating landscape. Both Sri Lankan men and women wear sarongs, although many Hindu women wear saris. Many women carry umbrellas for shade. School children dressed in pressed white uniforms use the rails to walk to school. We saw women, wrapped in sarongs, showering under an open pipe and men bathing in a rocky stream. We passed both Hindu and Buddhist shrines and saw many a monk in orange robes waiting at the stations.

The train kept climbing and climbing. Outside our windows the world was the glowing green of young leaves on tea plants in terraced tea plantations curving around the hillsides. Purple morning glories wound through many of the tea bushes, from which women (always women) were plucking the young buds and leaves.

At each of the twelve stops between Ella and Nuwara Eliya passengers climbed aboard. As the second and third class cars became crowded, many young boys chose to ride in the doorways to each train compartment. They hung out the sides of the cars, waving to people on the sides of the track and to me, the only blonde head sticking out that side of the train.

The higher we climbed, the more damp and fertile the earth smelled. The air carried a hint of mint and crates of tomatoes, capsicum, beans, carrots and cabbage waited by the tracks. We passed houses painted bright blue, pink and green. The houses in this fertile region are all surrounded by fruit and vegetable gardens, and always adorned with flowers. Many houses had laundry strewn across the tops of bushes or on the ground to dry.

As we climbed higher, the pines and tea plantations gave way to a forest of gum trees. We could smell the eucalyptus in the air through the diesel exhaust of the locomotives engine. At 6,000 feet the air turned brisk, and parents bundled up their kids in jackets and knit hats (which the kids promptly tugged off and tossed on the floor). The air was damp and the stone tunnels were covered in moss. Outside our windows tree ferns had replaced banana trees and rhododendrons and calla lilies bloomed.
When we rejoined Leel and Sampath at the station at Nanu Oya (the closest station to Nuwara Eliya) we had to agree with them that the scenery had been stunning and that riding the rails had been a good experience. Leaving the station, we took a twisting road up into the mist shrouded mountains. We passed tea plantations with romantic names like Flowerdew and Lover's Leap and inherently British names like Hethersett and Edinburgh. The laborers in tea country are predominantly Tamil. We saw many Hindu temples set among the tea bushes.

Leel's surprise of the day was lunch at the Tea Factory, a boutique hotel in a renovated tea factory. From the outside the hotel still looks like a factory. But the moment the doors were opened by a liveried footman, we could see that the renovation of the inside had preserved architectural details like the wooden floors fastened with brass fittings and accented them with beautiful furnishings. We could see why the British Sunday Times named the Tea Factory as one of the top 100 places in the world to stay. Lunch was the best meal we've had in Sri Lanka.

After lunch Sten and I diverted a bit from Leel's itinerary and wandered down the hill into a small private garden. At an altitude where it is perpetually springtime, some former plantation manager, likely homesick for England, planted a traditional English cottage garden. The garden is a magical place among the clouds. Temperate plants, such as hydrangea and agapanthus, filled borders that wound through topiaries and turf carvings. Cages containing pet ducks and rabbits were nestled among the flowers. We hated to leave, but it was time to push on.

We rejoined Leel and Sampath and headed off for our next stop, the Mackwoods tea factory. After drinking some excellent Broken Orange Pekoe, we took a guided tour of the factory. Our guide, after confessing that she drank five cups of tea a day, taught us about the cultivation and processing of tea leaves. It was fascinating. And now we have a much deeper appreciation for all the work that goes into filling those little Twinings tea bags. After the tour we were off to Kandy and our hotel.