Diary of a Wanderer

We left our lovely guest house, whose family had made us feel so welcome. Their son who wore the biggest smile the entire time we were there and helped us out with every little thing we had needed while we were there, including helping us find the bus to Galle. It pulled up just as we left the guesthouse and we hopped on and waved goodbye to the smiley guesthouse guy. The guesthouse had been by far the nicest and cheapest accommodation we had stayed in so far and we were determined to continue this trend in Galle. A tuktuk man managed to convince us to go with him to find our ‘perfect’ room within the walls of the old city. Our options became very limited due to our budget and we ended up settling for what I am unsure would even technically classify for a room. The back wall was made of plyboard and another wall was simply a large barred window which we couldn’t shut. The fan on the ceiling shook as it spun and occasionally stopped due to some dodgy wiring. It wasn’t long before Megs ...

Our bus to Matara As we waited for the bus down to the south we had been warned that it could be busy! We were specifically told to wait for the direct bus to Galle which would be stopping in Mirissa, and the old man at the bus stop who had assigned himself the job of getting tourists onto the right buses confirmed this to be true. However, when the rammed bus to Matara came along (the town before Mirissa), about ten minutes before our bus was due, everyone was adamant we should get on and change when we got there. Confused, we did as we were told and threw our bags in the boot. There was just enough room for us to stand in the doorway at the front and before long I found myself sitting on the big gear box where our bags would normally go, right next to the driver, with Megs soon joining me. She later got a seat, but there I stayed, developing a seriously high heart rate, as I watched the erratic driver for about 4 hours. En-route we also stopped for a coffee break for about ten ...

Our train chuggy around the mountainside  The train ride to Ella from Hatton was even more scenic than our ride from Kandy to Hatton, and to top it off we had seats! The five hour ride gave us plenty of time to reflect on the living nightmare we had experienced that morning and also the opportunity for Megs to prove once again that she really can sleep anywhere. As we entered the tea country, green hills rolled off into the distance made up of tea plantations which were organised into uniform rows. Food sellers busied themselves up and down the carriages selling all kinds of delights from hot peanuts to samosas. We tried some for ourselves, and although delightful I really could not tell you what it was we ate! By the time we arrived in Ella the train was almost empty- at least in third class it was, and we jumped off (another huge step down again!) and exited alongside what seemed like only Westerners. A woman came up to us outside the station and convinced us that her place...

Train to Hatton We woke up early and headed to Kandy railway station, not quite sure where we should buy a ticket to. Adam's peak was on the route and "to climb or not to climb?" was the question. Wowed by tripadvisor reviews and after deliberations about the weather, we took the plunge and bought a ticket to Hatton. As the train set off we secured a place standing by the window in third class, with the chance of a seat seeming very slim. For over two hours we stood, the breeze coming in against our faces as we watched out the window the whole way, taking in the breathtaking scenery- So Much Green! We continued to deliberate as to whether we should actually get off at Hatton or stay on until Nuwara Eliya as the daily rain came down. But Hatton it was to be, as we climbed off the train (a Massive jump down!) and headed onto the final leg of the journey- Hatton to Dalhousie. We were planning on taking the bus, but with it being off season it seemed like quite a bit of...

We were getting the bus from Dambulla to Kandy- how, when and where- we didn't have a clue. But I am pretty sure the bus timetable is common knowledge amongst Sri Lankans. It didn't matter who we asked, they always pointed us in the right direction. Further and further down the road we walked, with everyone we asked simply pointing to continue down the road. As we reached the bus station we asked another lady where to go, only to find the bus just pulling up behind us with Kandy written on the front! We secured seats at the front (reserved for the clergy), next to a window = The Dream! The next two hours passed with a cool breeze blowing on our faces as we passed through many villages, each one seeming to specialise in selling a certain thing- bananas, bags of chillis, ceramic pots or woven bags and baskets. We knew we were in Kandy when the roads suddenly became mayhem, We didn't even wait to get to the bus station, jumping off before and heading to the train sta...

Our full day in Dambulla started early as we set off to Sigiriya to climb its big rock. Touristy and expensive, it was already quite busy at 8am! We set off, making our way to the top, with more and more of the spectacular green scenery being revealed to us as we went. En-route we even saw our Swiss friends on the top of the smaller (cheaper to climb) rock. From the top we had a beautiful 360 degree view of Sigiriya and out as far as the horizon. We clambered around the ruins and even spotted a snake which cut straight across our path- much to Megan's shock and horror and the amusement of some Australians looking on! Sigiriya Rock Restoration work using some slightly unstable looking scaffolding! Spot the Man! A beautiful view from the top We reached the bottom and met our driver, setting off on a long tuk-tuk journey to Polonnaruwa to explore its ancient ruins. We began to lack faith in our driver and were quite certain he didn't really know where he ...

We had to change buses at Kurunegala and it turns out that there are bus stations crazier than Colombo! I wish I could have filmed the mayhem as buses pulled out, reversed in and parked left, right and centre. We asked everywhere for the bus to Dambulla and once again we were continually pointed in the general direction until we found ourselves right in front of it.  For the second time that day we found ourselves getting the last available seats, our bags up next to the driver,  as people continued to get on after us and simply stand in the aisle as the bus pulled away. And they continued to stand there for the next two hours as the bus made its way to Dambulla! At longer stops people came on selling cold water, popcorn and even children's colouring books. A TV showed music videos as their accompanying songs boomed out of the big speakers above our heads. And a man stood resting against my shoulder for the entire journey. The rules of the road became slightly clearer in the...

(Written 7th September) Our stay in Negombo was to be for a brief one night, which was plenty of time for us to enjoy the beach. We arrived at our hostel and were greeted by the lovely Latta, who gave us a drink and booked us in for the night. We headed straight for the beach, which we could see from our hostel balcony. It stretched for miles and was so quiet. The waves pulsed against the shore and you could tell the current was strong, while the breeze was warm and stopped us from getting too hot. On the shore, little crabs, as far as the eye could see, were continually popping out of little holes, carrying out a thankless task of emptying their homes from sand which was soon to reappear as people walked passed and the waves came up and filled them with water. Negombo beach and some ominous, low cloud For lunch we had sweet rice and vegetables in a little restaurant. Half way through eating there it became really quiet and we suddenly realised just how loud the r...

Two backpacks, two flights and no plan... Before we knew it me and my best mate, Megan, were in Sri Lanka. After 14 hours of travelling we made it to Colombo airport, acquired a stamp in the passport and headed out to get our hands on some Sri Lankan Rupees. Within minutes we had handed over a whole 12 pounds worth of rupees in order to get a taxi to our hostel 35km away in Colombo City. What I predict to be the most expensive journey of our trip so far was justified by the fact we were tired, very lost and slightly anxious about what to expect on the streets of Colombo. Straightaway we were thrown into an awkward situation as the man who put our bags into the boot...taking all of 5 seconds.... asked for a tip. "Any coins, any euros for me please" he said as me and Megs looked at each other slightly bewildered. I reached for my purse unable to work out the conversion rate for our newly acquired rupees thinking surely 100 rupees, my smallest note (about 50p), is far too much...