Arrival in Colombo

Arrived at Colombo with fridges in the background

After a refreshing night’s sleep on luxury lie-flat beds our brave travellers breakfasted heartily. Except this isn’t fiction. First world problems ‘n’ all but the Business Class seats reminded me of something all Hadleys reading this will recall: Tim’s homemade bed settee. Made of oak and hinges of course. And liable to leave any occupant temporarily paralysed. These beds weren’t that bad. But it was close.

Then add in the constant noise in the cabin from the crew racing supermarket trollies, making Ikea wardrobes and rattling bags of money. Or so it seemed. What they were actually doing was making our breakfast which was frankly delicious. So the first part of the fantasy was correct. Nonetheless, my guts were protesting at breakfast at 2:30am Istanbul time which was just before the UK lot were about to yell Happy New Year! and people in Sri Lanka were drawing the curtains at 5am. Perhaps not on NYD?

We landed at Bandaranaike Airport and it was much bigger than we had expected. The malls and walkways stretched away into the distance and it was evidently the meeting place of Sri Lanka. The airport is named for the world’s first female prime minister in 1960.

Our first impressions were that the country is very like its near neighbour, India. Chaotic bustle greeted us outside the airport with multiple huge fridge freezers being loaded into multiple minibuses! Inside was a little calmer and we had visited a bank to change some sterling into SL Rupees. This was reasonably straightforward and we left to go find our guide who was waiting with a large sign for “Gabrielle Bernadette”. Our driver and guide introduced himself as Atullah and a very friendly and capable chap he seems too. He parked us near the Pick Up and Drop Off while he went to get his minibus. He was not allowed to stop there so had to park away from the terminal.

While he was gone, the bank teller who had served us came dashing up. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “but I did your transaction wrongly. I worked out the exchange based on Euros and not pounds sterling.” He was most anxious because his balance would be completely wrong and, more importantly for us, we’d been diddled! I said I would go with him to rectify matters while Gabrielle stayed to wait for Atullah. Simple, right? Wrong. I followed him back towards the terminal entrance and then realised we’d need to go through military security to get in. He marched through and I followed, but … not so fast! Put your bag on the scanner, go through the arch, arms out scan, scan, scan. Ok, done. Off to the bank and we then realised that the receipt for the first exchange was with Gabrielle. I said I would stay put and not run the gauntlet of security again and he dashed off once more to find Gabrielle who was most surprised to see him without me. However, all was sorted and a few minutes later I came away with another fistful of notes (more on that in a moment) and headed back to the drop off where Atullah was most anxious a) because two police officers were bearing down on him, b) because there was much angry tooting and waving of fists and c) because he thought we might have been conned.

We set off with Atullah on the phone to his boss and quizzing me: which bank; what had happened with the transaction; were we happy it was settled? We then ploughed off into the traffic. OMFG! Tuktuks and motorcycles abound, weaving between each other and narrowly missing each other. Minibuses are de rigueur for the average man about town who can afford one and the streets themselves are chaotic and potholed. Our journey was about 15 minutes and we arrived, down a dingy looking alley, to a lovely looking hotel, right on the waterfront. This was the Pledge Scape Negombo  a small seafront hotel with a long pool and dramatic high ceilings where we received a lovely welcome and a promise to do their best to get us a room as soon as possible. It was, after all, only 8am and normal check in was 2pm.

We sat to be checked in on sofas and were then given a lovely drink of papaya and mint. HNY was said all round by anyone who passed through. However, there was one massive downside: mosquitoes. Gabrielle was bitten to bits in moments and the Deet was in the suitcases. Our room was provided and it was proudly explained to us, by the receptionist lady, including the minibar … which was empty. It’s a big room with a view over the beach and Laccadive Sea which borders India, the Maldives and Sri Lanka, all the way to the horizon.

Just arrived and exhausted

We rest here for the day to recover and then at 8:30am the next day Atullah will collect us for the four hour drive to  Habarana. Meanwhile there’s unpacking to be done and the two of us stumbled around the room, going “where did I put that?” We were totally gaga from lack of sleep and then, we realised we were hungry. Gabrielle promptly blagged us into breakfast which had closed half an hour earlier, but no one seemed to mind. After toast, orange jam, chocolate cake, fruit, omelette (with chicken bacon) and thick, black coffee we felt much better. Delicious. I worked out that the 31st had been my shortest birthday ever, apart from the day I was born.

Back to the room feeling slightly restored and with a determination to get clean. Gabrielle ran a bath and was puzzled that it didn’t seem to be filling. The plug was not down properly. She got in the bath and I got in the shower. The cold shower. Hot water had run out. Then we went to bed to try to recover some of our sleep debt. Just dozing off and there is the sound of nearby gunfire! What the …? We leap out of bed with premonitions of tourist massacres, forgetting it’s New Year’s Day. The bombs and bangs continued to punctuate our dreams, along with the delighted screams of children playing in the sea.

Then the mist rolled in and the temperature plummeted to 28C.

I mentioned the currency. The Sri Lankan Rupee is highly devalued and is a reserved currency so you have to buy it in the country and sell it back again when you leave. The notes are in large denominations and are frankly grubby after the clean notes from the U.K.  so, for example, the 100 rupee note is worth about £0.27, the 1000 rupee £2.70 and the 5000, £13,50. These values vary of course.

And so, we now prepare for dinner this evening which seems a very long way off and maybe a glass of something nice first. Then it’s an early start tomorrow when Atullah collects us for the first trip on our adventure. And a four hour drive. With another couple. Watch this space!