Fly, you fool!

Escaping Sloth

About Archive RSS

03 Jan 2019
Sri Lanka - Nuwara Eliya

Note: I found this draft in some subfolder to my website, based on the file timestamp I started writing this when I was in Singapore - so only 2 months after the events. With that in mind it seems only fair I finish and publish this now, a mere three and half years later. Strangely, much of it is still remarkably fresh in my mind…

“Great, so you can join us then.”

“But…I only just got here!”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing to do here.”

“Man, I haven’t slept in two days!”

“Hey, you get one full night and we head out tomorrow morning.”

The four of us sit on the balcony and drink beer. Two stories below us the garden is sinking into evening gloom while rain drops keep rolling off the tree tops around us. In the distance the regular racket picks up again: A swelling and ebbing sound somewhere between a flock of hyperactive ducks and a badly maintained machine gun. Horny frogs, apparently, flirting loudly. Every now and then a swooping shadow in the sky catches my eye as one of the huge fruit bats takes flight.

“Did you guys buy tickets yet?”

“We were thinking we’d just go down to the station and ask them for the easiest way to get to Nuraw-…Nawuru-“

“Nuwara Eliya.”

“That. So basically it would be a a few people from this hostel and us four.”

Us, that’s Hayden, Sam, Krzysztof and myself. While Sam has just arrived, the rest of us have already spent a day or two in Kandy, Sri Lanka. All of us arrived a week too late for the big Perahera festival and have already seen the things we wanted to see in town. In my case this list comprised the Temple of the Tooth (built around Gautama Buddha’s tooth - swanky temples are exactly what that man was all about), the botanical garden and the Commonwealth War Cemetery. Other than that I felt that Kandy was just a tad too noisy, crowded and busy for my taste. When somebody suggested to go south towards the big national parks I eagerly jumped on that plan. In the course of this evening a combination of bizarre and hilarious conversation (and more than a few beers) also convinces Sam to join us.

The next morning we eat an early breakfast, pack up our belongings and head out to rustle up a few tuktuks to take us down to the station. Since the other three are also travelling for longer periods they carry as little luggage as I do. A few others from the hostel, on the other hand, are there on vacation and have about three bags per person. Given the average number of hands per person, that seems like a bad idea, but then it’s not my problem, is it?

Tuktuks don’t have a whole lot of stowage so the short ride to the station ends up a being a rather cramped experience. So yes, in a way it’s also my problem now.

“So there is a train at 1pm.”

“Hm, our accommodation is only reserved until 2pm or so, so we’d miss that…”

“What, we have accommodation planned?”

“Well, the lady from the hostel sorted out something…”

“What’s the place called?”

“No clue, she gave the info to this one girl…”

“The blond one?”

“I don’t know…is the blond girl also the tall girl?”

“…”

Based on such definitive schedules we decide to take a small but air-conditioned shuttle bus instead, which should get us there on time for that dubious reservation.

I could now describe to you the exciting tropical mountain landscapes that passed by our bus windows but the truth of the matter is that I slept through most of the ride on account of a) being pretty tired from the previous night and b) being slightly over-bused after traveling on buses for about half a year. Looking at the route on Google Streetview the journey looks indeed leafy, somewhat moist, yet dusty, all the while hilly.

I slowly drift back to consciousness as we reach the town of Hawa Eliya. The bus pulls into a vacant parking lot on what appears to be the main street and comes to a shuddering halt. Sloth-like we grab our belongings and get off the bus groaning and yawning. I wasn’t the only one to sleep, it seems. We stand around in parking lot as the bus starts moving again and look after it slightly dazed. After a moment’s silence the group does that thing where one person accidentally takes a step in any direction and the rest of the group just goes “That way? Okay, right behind you!”

Hawa Eliya is located next to a very scenic lake and the entire town is quite presentable - many newer buildings, generally clean and well-kept. Not the part we’re in right now, but the rest is, we find out later. After a few hundred meters the first stomachs begin to growl irritably. This begins a pattern I would see play out a million times with other longer-term travellers: Everbody has to eat, but people who travel for a year or longer tend to stretch their budets a little. So a common meal is curry-with-rice, served in a shed.

And yet the prelude to actually eating always seems to be the same: You find a place that looks suitably…well, crap. Everybody piles through the tiny entrance into the the spicy-smelling gloom beyond. Your eyes begin to water immediately and the steam hides a great many things better left unseen anyway. One of your group will eventually regain control of his vocal cords and yell into the boiling fog the immortal words “CURRYANDRICE - HOWMUCH?”

This will be answered by incomprehensible yelling from the kitchen, after which most of your group will look at each other nodding. You nod because you’re hungry, and because curry and rice is definitely on the menu, it’s often tasty and at whatever price that man is asking, there really is no point to even wondering what might be in that curry. But no, it’s not meant to be: There is always that one guy who angrily yells “60 RUPEES? THAT’S AN OUTRAGE, WE’RE LEAVING!” (60 Sri Lankan Rupees came to around 0.35 USD when I was there.)

And out of hungry, grudging solidarity with the most frugual of travellers, the group then files out through the exit and back into the sunlight. The group marches on, uniformly agreeing with one another that they were fully justified in not playing along with such a blatant rip-off. Eventually, another shed is found, the ritual repeated. Sooner or later you will eat.

So the natural question to ask is: Does that make sense? Why haggle over what comes to a price difference of 5 cents? Well…yes and no. If you don’t have a time limit on your travels, their duration is largely set by budget. So the difference between paying 60 rupees and paying 40 theoretically adds up to 50% longer trips. I say theoretically because obviously it doesn’t work that way: In many parts of the world food is only a small part of travel expenses - certainly if you’re willing to stick to curry and rice. Other expenses drive total cost, such as accommodation, transport, activities and drinking. And you know what goes really well with curry and rice, especially if finding it has taken you two hours? A nice, cold beer! It’s only 200 Rupees after all!


Until next time,
Arne

About Archive RSS