I have hooked up with a French lass to peruse this lakeside town and we decide to take in a cultural show. Its aimed at tourists so we are aware it may be a bit duff. However Kandyian dancing is well famed so we pack in to try and watch. The show time we had been given was wrong and its already started and we have to stand. Some of it is quite impressive. One move in particular involves placing the head in the middle at chest height and spinning over a full rotation of the body, with legs flipping up and over like a human spinning top, in a circle repeatedly. This is impressive. The guy doing it looks like a ninja but overcooks it by starting so fast and nearly crashes into the drummers. The whole thing looks like everyone rehearses. Alone. And then comes together for the final thing. There is a fire walk which we can't see and some amateur fire spinning. Hmmm we should've known......But it was funny.....
We change pace the next day and spend it at a botanical gardens which is great. They have an orchid house which is beautiful. Bump into Mr Czech. He's a plant biologist so is well happy. After this I dash around the "National" museum. Which is a bit of a lie as there are 4 of them in different towns. There are interesting bits and pieces and a gold 17th Century crown protected by the most rudimentary alarm system known to man which looks more like a plunger (master criminals take note). There are clearly no curatorship training courses here and I need to use a head torch to see some exhibits as the lights have blown. One particularly weird artefact catches my eye as perhaps a tool of a medecine man or something. However after a second look I feel very bad ju ju off it so leave it be. Look at some old trinkets and photos then I'm out. Satggering back to the guest house for a rest, the humidity is a stern task master.
And sadly dear reader here I fall ill. I watch my ceiling fan do its thing and stagger to Pizza Hut for some extortionate price just for the air con and lack of curry. Its a tummy bug and I feel well weird. I blame the evil artefact. Seriously. I also have the added joy of a random man touching my bum as I stagger home. "Shame on you!" I bellow and point in his face (most rude in Sri Lanka). He flinches like I've shot him. Good. Arrrgh...
I manage to leave Kandy but as its holidays my 2 hour bus trip takes 6 (the bus breaks down) and I feel like I may die en route. Lie up again in Sigriya. Haven't managed a full meal for days. Tedium. Manage to drag myself up Sigriya rock which I really wanted to do. The food is the worst on the trip but I can't eat it so that's good. The rock has great views far around. It was once the encampment of the lesser son of a king, called Kassapa, built to rival his brother and keep him off the throne by its impregnable fortress location. However when the brother came to tell him where to get off he did literally that. The idiot came down and rode out into battle on the back of an elephant on the plains below. Sadly for him, his welephant bolted and his troops thought he was giving up and legged it. Left to a surefire defeat by his brother he topped himself. Yes this fool has left the legacy of a World Heritage site where thousands come to look and wonder not that he deserved it. And he was afraid of heights. The price is extortionate too.
So my slight jadedness peaks through. Travelling solo and ill is a challenge. I manage to get south in another epic, fiercely hot and crowded bus disco to Negombo, primed and ready for take off to my next destination. Nepal. Its good to paddle in the sea once more and ponder the first leg of the trip whilst watching beach cricket in the sunset. Food is my enemy still. However The Daphini Guesthouse are in my dreams for they served me a great huge plate of mashed potato I'd been idly fantasising about all day. I couldn't face anything else and had no idea it was on their menu. Hell I didn't even know they had a restaurant. Maybe on the very last day back through on my return I may be able to taste some of that amazing seafood. Until then I dream of mash...
We change pace the next day and spend it at a botanical gardens which is great. They have an orchid house which is beautiful. Bump into Mr Czech. He's a plant biologist so is well happy. After this I dash around the "National" museum. Which is a bit of a lie as there are 4 of them in different towns. There are interesting bits and pieces and a gold 17th Century crown protected by the most rudimentary alarm system known to man which looks more like a plunger (master criminals take note). There are clearly no curatorship training courses here and I need to use a head torch to see some exhibits as the lights have blown. One particularly weird artefact catches my eye as perhaps a tool of a medecine man or something. However after a second look I feel very bad ju ju off it so leave it be. Look at some old trinkets and photos then I'm out. Satggering back to the guest house for a rest, the humidity is a stern task master.
And sadly dear reader here I fall ill. I watch my ceiling fan do its thing and stagger to Pizza Hut for some extortionate price just for the air con and lack of curry. Its a tummy bug and I feel well weird. I blame the evil artefact. Seriously. I also have the added joy of a random man touching my bum as I stagger home. "Shame on you!" I bellow and point in his face (most rude in Sri Lanka). He flinches like I've shot him. Good. Arrrgh...
I manage to leave Kandy but as its holidays my 2 hour bus trip takes 6 (the bus breaks down) and I feel like I may die en route. Lie up again in Sigriya. Haven't managed a full meal for days. Tedium. Manage to drag myself up Sigriya rock which I really wanted to do. The food is the worst on the trip but I can't eat it so that's good. The rock has great views far around. It was once the encampment of the lesser son of a king, called Kassapa, built to rival his brother and keep him off the throne by its impregnable fortress location. However when the brother came to tell him where to get off he did literally that. The idiot came down and rode out into battle on the back of an elephant on the plains below. Sadly for him, his welephant bolted and his troops thought he was giving up and legged it. Left to a surefire defeat by his brother he topped himself. Yes this fool has left the legacy of a World Heritage site where thousands come to look and wonder not that he deserved it. And he was afraid of heights. The price is extortionate too.
So my slight jadedness peaks through. Travelling solo and ill is a challenge. I manage to get south in another epic, fiercely hot and crowded bus disco to Negombo, primed and ready for take off to my next destination. Nepal. Its good to paddle in the sea once more and ponder the first leg of the trip whilst watching beach cricket in the sunset. Food is my enemy still. However The Daphini Guesthouse are in my dreams for they served me a great huge plate of mashed potato I'd been idly fantasising about all day. I couldn't face anything else and had no idea it was on their menu. Hell I didn't even know they had a restaurant. Maybe on the very last day back through on my return I may be able to taste some of that amazing seafood. Until then I dream of mash...
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