September

Once more we have to apologise for our lack of updates, many of you must really be venturing into the hidden depths of the internet to pass your days at work. Sorry we're trying to be more punctual, but this not having a job thing really seems to make us pretty busy. This post takes you back to our Escape from Hebron, which we're pretty sure will one day be made into a movie. You saw it here first. Buckle up, it's quite a ride.

After that style interlude from Bangkok I am taking you back to our exit from India and the three wonderful weeks in Sri Lanka. We left Hebron at 4am and despite the dark, the pouring rain and our pre-emptive protests, some of the older girls came out to wave us off. On the drive to the train station we were treated to a long line of crouching bare bottoms as the local men went through their morning routines by the side of the motorway. Such was the density of the squatting line I couldn't help but wonder if this was India giving us some sort of gruesome farewell parade, something to remember it by. It certainly didn't make us question our departure and made us only more excited about moving on somewhere new. Unfortunately India generates some pretty mixed emotions in us. Whilst we had some wonderful times and enjoyed almost all of the places we visited on our travels, the experience of working with Sagar on the project and all the frustration that entailed is perhaps our overriding memory. It's a touch unfair perhaps to tarnish an entire country due to one man being an idiot but it really was that frustrating. Hopefully as time passes these feelings will mellow and we'll be ready to visit again when we go back in December. Our original plan was to spend a month back in India at the end of a trip. At present we're thinking that two weeks should prove more than sufficient. Anyway I am getting ahead of myself.

32 hours. That is how long it took us to get from Hebron to our hotel in Colombo and for 31 of those hours we were awake. The grand plan: get the train with Peter to Vijaywada, stop to have lunch with Mastan (our friend from the Heal project in Vijayawada ), get on the afternoon train to Chennai, and then either find a bar or head straight to the airport; tough it out until check in at 4am; get on the plane; get to Sri Lanka. All in all it went pretty much exactly to plan. We decided the bar was a bad idea so headed straight to the airport where unfortunately, as we were there a whole 6 hours before check in opened they wouldn't let us in for another 5 hours. Faced with the prospect of waiting it out in the Chennai airport car park we decided to try our luck in the visitors gallery where weeping families say cheerio to their loved ones across a large metal railing. Happily the security guard at that door took pity on us and let us in as long as we didn't make a nuisance of ourselves. This turned out to be a bit of a mixed blessing. Whilst a million times cleaner and less smelly than the outside option (the car park doubled as a massive open air latrine), the inside of the building was air conditioned to levels similar to that of a butcher's freezer. I am pretty sure the first stages of hypothermia had set in by the time we tried to get up 5 hours later to check ourselves in. Such was the level of trembling it took us a few goes to stand up and even more attempts to get our bags on our backs. This could also been due to lack of sleep or perhaps it was business as usual for team Gramy's co-ordination, never-the-less we were on our way (slowly) to Sri Lanka.

A very straight forward flight later we arrived in Sri Lanka. A very straight forward taxi journey later we were at our hotel in Colombo. So far, so easy, so good. As we were a little early to check in to our room we went for a bit of an explore of the surrounding area. It was like walking into the opening scenes of '28 days later'. We walked street after street not seeing a single person, car, dog or really any sign of life so it was not long before the combination of lack of sleep and a complete change of scene led to a very real paranoia that a crazed Sri Lankan zombie might come running towards us, foaming blood at the mouth. This was not helped by the fact the first humans we did see were heavily armed, fully uniformed army folk. Our paranoia was in full swing by the time we reached Galle Face Green where we finally saw the first signs that the population was alive and well and not in fact overrun by zombies. We also got our first glimpse of the sea from Sri Lankan shores, which was grey and moody with crashing waves. Feeling that we needed a moment to gather ourselves and raise our blood sugar levels a bit we had a bottle of warm fizzy pop sat with our legs dangling over the sea wall watching the waves roll in. It was a lovely moment and for the first time in weeks we were able to breathe a sigh of relief. We had survived India. I had had my doubts, as I am sure you did, but we made it and Graham and I were still talking to each other. Job well done I guess.

So to explain why Colombo was like a ghost town, we weren't hallucinating; it was in fact the full moon festival. Whenever it is a full moon, it is also a public holiday in Sri Lanka so everyone escapes the city to go to temple or see their family. Unfortunately they do not share the British love for 'celebrating' a bank holiday so it was a dry day everywhere. Even the most fancy pants hotels wouldn't serve us a gin and tonic so a ginger beer was a strong as we could get. Turns out ginger beer pretty much sponsors your Sri Lankan experience as it is almost more readily available than water and for 3 weeks I was a convert. That's right, the ice cold, fiery, gingery elixir bumped full fat coke from the top spot. I knew I was going to have some life changing experiences on this trip but I was not expecting one of such great magnitude. Anyway, I digress, our celebratory alcoholic drink would have to wait until we got to Galle. At about 5pm we headed out again on to Galle Face Green and it seemed that the entire population had been in hiding until this very specific time when they appeared en mass to fly their kites. It was quite an amazing sight, one unfortunately our photographs do not do justice, but as the sunset, thousands of men, women and children were enjoying the warm evening air with some low key kite flying. Graham was lamenting the 'one time he didn't bring his kite', although it may have been a little showy for this very tranquil pastime.

The next day we headed to Galle although we spent the morning exploring the market area. This was more in line with what we had got accustomed to in India but still nowhere near as crazy. Graham was delighted when he found a shop that sold egg and bacon pies and we also bought ourselves a jazzy umbrella so we could suffer the monsoon rains in style (our Indian umbrella had collapsed and died at the airport having been used only once). It turns out that almost everyone in Sri Lanka has exactly the same brolly so not so unique, but still nice and colourful. We then headed back to the train station to await our train to Galle. The station was amazing, and if Adam and Maria are reading this, if you ever get the chance to visit it might be worth try do a deal with them for the furniture. It looked like nothing had been changed for a hundred years. Wonderful, dark wood lockers, ticket holders, ticket stamps, clocks, stools, windows, everything. Old and used, but looked after, so everything was just brimming with character. As it was clear we would need a bigger house to fit it all in not to mention that it might be a small struggle to carry it all with our already over stuffed bags, we decided not start the bartering process with the ticket man (who didn't seem too fussed about chatting). Colombo gets a bit of a bad rap with people saying it is just another South East Asian city that can be easily skipped but it is definitely worth dropping by.

A mere 4 hour train journey down the coast and we were at Galle. A UNESCO world heritage site, Galle is a walled town criss-crossed with streets of little colonial terraced buildings, guarded by a light house at one end and a clock tower at the other. The stone walls that protected the town from the tsunami that destroyed much of the surrounding area doubled as a wonderful footpath perfect for a sunset stroll. A pastime that quickly became our pre dinner routine. You have to take everything down a notch or five in Galle as the main activities are roof top feasting and meandering. That is pretty much it. Rather strangely the town was filled with big, burly white men, many of whom were northern or Glaswegian and tended to have a penchant for very short shorts. At first I thought it was a rather unusual and low key place for stag dos to be branching out to however a brief chat with some rather intimidating Serbian fellows staying at our guesthouse set us straight. In the waters off Galle, the horizon is peppered with huge tankers coming from India and heading towards Africa. These big burly chaps were the hired security (mercenaries if you will) to fight off any pesky pirates. Now I would love to imagine scenes of men in pirate hats partaking in swashbuckling sword duels on rickety old ships however it seems the reality is far less fun and far more brutal. There's no such thing as the pirates 'code of honour' and lots of rocket propelled grenades. After our short and utterly terrifying conversation with our Serbian neighbours I asked Graham (when we were safely out of ear shot) not if he thought they had killed anyone but how many he thought they had killed. They certainly weren't squeamish about it or shy of a loud racist rant so I was delighted to discover that they left the following day (and not killed us for sport during the night). Apart from that Galle was lovely and time meandered quietly by until it was time to move on along the coast.

Ahh Mirissa, a little slice of heaven. Silver sandy beaches lined with swaying palm trees on one side and clear blue water on the other. We had originally only planned to stay for two or three nights but ended up staying the entire week. Our guesthouse was a little quirky with its decor but was super clean and most importantly was positioned so close to the sea that you could throw a fair sized boulder from our porch and still hit the water. We still had our final report to finish which took up much of the first few days, however as our work desk was sat under a palm tree and we were kept cool by a combination of sea breeze and sea spray it wasn't so bad. Once this was finished our most taxing decisions were along the lines of which cafe did the best finger chips, which had the best loungers and which did the cheapest cocktails (although Sri Lankan rum is not something to be savoured). I made two great discoveries whilst we were in Mirissa

1.Body boarding is not only super fun but I am also better at it than Graham (even with the threat of constant bikini malfunctions).

2.I was no longer gluten intolerant. Once I realised this I was easing through a 4 slice of toast breakfast without even blinking. Unfortunately it turns out this is only a special Sri Lanka treat as I am once again on a no bread or gluten filled goodies diet. Boo! Well it was fun while it lasted.

On our final day, we broke from the routine and instead of assuming position on the beach side loungers we hired a scooter and took a trip to Unawatuna, another beachside town about an hour away,for a day's cooking course. It was less cooking and more watching with a few fool proof participation moments thrown in (or not so if the picture of Graham is anything to go by). By the end there was a table covered in some pretty tasty dishes which we got to devour with our fellow class mates (one of whom was a sister of a Frisbee person Graham knew) before we were sent packing into the pouring rain. The journey home was a little damp which the scooter didn't seem to like much but we made it and were delighted to see it had rained all afternoon in Mirissa so no sun tanning hours were missed. I also managed to snap a few pictures of those crazy men folk that fish from a pole in the middle of the sea. It must work because they all seem to do it but it didn't look too rosy out there. All in all a good day out and the perfect way to end our days by the beach (had it been another scorcher with cocktails by the cafe Graham may have struggled to move me on). The following day we were heading inland and onto Ella, the start of the hill country.

To get to Ella we had a 5-6 hour bus journey on a local bus which would eventually get us there or somewhere close. I was a little nervous but it turned out to be pretty straight forward (as with all travel in Sri Lanka). People helpfully pointed us in the right direction, stuck us on the bus in a seat where we could keep our bags at our feet and told us to stay put. We did, for four hours, until we arrived at the next bus station (get that, over an hour ahead of schedule). There someone else grabbed us and pointed us at a different bus which took us up to Ella. No hassle, no fuss and we made it to Ella just as the sun started to set. So to describe Ella -lovely climate. I guess it is the mountainous, sealess version of Mirissa i.e. there is not much to do but walkabout, eat nice food and drink ginger beer. So that is what we did. Graham and I shocked ourselves with our level of fitness (or complete lack of it) when we climbed Ella rock and then again the following day when we took what was advertised as an easy stroll to the tea factory. It probably would have been a lot easier and shorter had Graham not taken us on a 4km detour but it was a good way to earn our evening feast of very un-Sri Lankan pizza. We stayed at a lovely guesthouse that had a big open area where we could watch the sparring birds as we ate our breakfast of tasty tasty hoppers and jam and proper tea. There was also super nice Dutch family who were on a 3 week holiday and were pretty much the first people that we had spoken to in weeks. Of course we bored them with our ranting tales of India but they humoured us and told us about life at home in The Hague as well as the adventures they had had in Sri Lanka. They suggested good walks around the area (perhaps in a bid to get rid of us) and we told them what to do in Mirissa (choose your lounger, lie on the beach, eat seafood, body board, relax). After a few days we said goodbye as they set off to the coast and we headed deeper into the hills up to Nuwara Eliya.

There are certain things that are a must do in Nuwara Eilya: go for a walk in the tea plantations surrounding the town, get up well before dawn has cracked to walk through the national park to World's End and play pool in the Hill Club. We did them all. I would love to say that we did it all in style however I can safely say that we showed the hill club billiards room with full size table possibly the worst games of pool it has ever seen. It took us the whole hour for just 2 games and I had to resort to some rather interesting acrobatic positions just to reach the balls. It was fun though and there was a tasty gin and tonic waiting for us at the end. Our trek through the tea plantations was largely in the clouds so not at its scenic best but there were snatches of beautiful views and vibrant green and it was lovely fresh change to the heat on the coast. Finally, was our trip to World's End. Feeling stung by the hefty entrance fee we were holding out little hope for getting a great view as we drove through thick sweeping cloud that could see barely see the front of the car in. I was sure that this was going to be another Banton special, walking in the wind, rain where it is impossible to see the beautiful scenery beyond the fog, made worse by the 5 am start and the fact that we had to pay for the pleasure. Happily and almost as if by magic, as we got to the main scenic points the clouds lifted to reveal Sri Lanka stretching out before our very eyes. We dangled our feet over the rather precipitous edge and enjoyed watching the cotton wool clouds shrink and disappear around the neighbouring peaks whilst the rising sun coloured the distant lakes. All very atmospheric though slightly spoiled by the huge chatty Dutch family that were following us. Being my father's daughter I spent most of the time walking at Olympic pace to get ahead of them so we could have the view to ourselves and when they did catch up, a few icy glares followed by us scampering off at pace gave them the message i think. Well we didn't see them again until the end of the walk.

The rest of our time was spent eating kottu rottis (delicious chicken, mixed veg, rotti with enough garlic to wipe out the entire Twillight and True Blood cast in one go, fried, chopped up, fried again, serve up as mulch and covered in curry sauce, lip smackingly good), drinking tea and gin and tonics. Nothing too taxing. I was getting a little tired of being cold though so was happy to heading downhill to the warmer climes of Kandy after four days in the clouds (doesn't bode well for our return in December). We made a further discovery about Sri Lanka here. Occasionally we would hear a wailing tune echoing through the streets (we had also heard it down in the coast as well) usually some sort of Christmas favourites medley (Jingle Bells into Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer into We Wish you a Merry Christmas). Thinking perhaps the colonials had introduced the traditional musical icecream van we looked out for a garish van selling sweet delights (and other illegal substances). Instead we discovered it was in fact a musical mobile bakery full of all your bread and pastry needs. We also discovered that the bin lorries also have their own musical tune although it was less festive and more military in its tone, designed I think to avoid any confusion. You definitely don't want to get the two mixed up otherwise you might find yourself chomping down on bakery treats that are a little less than fresh.

To get to Kandy we had another train journey which involved the usual waving, hanging out of windows and oohing and ahhing at the passing countryside. We arrived in Kandy late afternoon as the sun was starting to lower in the sky. I made the eternal mistake of pausing before getting off the train and was instantly faced with a scrum of mad people trying to race passed to get to the seats. I tried to point out there was no way they were getting past my huge bag no matter how hard they pushed. Such was the force i had to use to get past I ended up falling off the train, literally, cut hands, knees and everything. Graham was still stuck somewhere in the carriage fighting his own battles so a nice man got off the train to check that I was alright. Like a ninja (or perhaps an embarrassed British person) I was up on my feet in a flash, dusting myself down and insisting i was fine whilst inside wanting to cry like an 8 year old girl. I didn't of course and off we set to find our guesthouse. Now there are two things everyone will tell you if you say you are going to Kandy, firstly it is home to the Buddha's tooth and secondly the menacing monkeys that will steal anything (ANYTHING) they can get their hands on. The Buddha's tooth is one of those things that you have to do just because but if you were hoping to get a glimpse at a gnarly old yellow incisor you will be disappointed. Instead you hand over a hefty $25(US) each and join a slow shuffling queue. Now as people who don't really understand religion (for want of a better word) it is quite bizarre watching a mass of people prostrating themselves wildly at a gold box that may or may not have a tooth in it. That's right people, there's nothing to see here apart from a shiny gold box in a hole in the wall. Apparently this is because so many people have tried to steal and destroy it in the past (those pesky catholics have the greatest issue it seems) it must be hidden away from sight. Although if you are Japanese or Thai you can make a special appointment to see the tooth but this may in fact be a replica, tricksy stuff. Anyway, we were able to tick it off our list.

So that leaves Kandy's monkeys. Do not be fooled into thinking they are cute and do not underestimate them. Our first encounter was at breakfast which we had to eat inside behind bars despite it being a glorious morning. We soon found out why as the monkeys tried to squeeze through the bars to get to the jam and fruit. Their big eyes and sad face had me keeping back a small feast to feed through the bars however they were shooed away into the surrounding trees before i could start handing it out. This was a mistake. They had spotted that I was weak and an easy target and these monkeys don't forget. We moved guesthouses just up the road to a place where each floor had a lovely open balcony area on to sit and enjoy the tranquil surroundings. During the afternoon, Graham and I had met a wonderfully friendly fruit stall owner whose daughter was over in the UK studying in Newcastle. He took us on a tasting tour of his entire fruit stall cutting bits and pieces of all the things we would never normally dare to try. It was lovely and we left with a bag bulging with the most exotic fruit salad selection I have ever seen. Can you guess what is coming? That's right, Graham and I laid out our foraged fruits from the market and sat on the balcony to enjoy the colours of the sky as dusk set in. From nowhere, a monkey appeared on the balcony about 5 feet away from me. A little alarmed I made one of my usual noises that drew Graham's attention to the situation as said monkey then jumped on to the table. I turned to see my 'knight in shining armour' quickly walking away in the direction of our bedroom with his plate of fruit. He did not return. I was then left with a monkey who was now inspecting the table for what to steal. Items included: my plate of mango, 2 glass bottles of fizzy pop, my sewing, the leatherman and my ipod. Ok I thought, I can seem menacing and wave my hand like I had seen the Sri Lankan men do to scare it off. And so I wafted my hand whilst making the noise I usually make to try and attract cats. Clearly the monkey realised these were the actions of an amateur so ran at me and slapped my hand. I screamed, grabbed what I could (sewing, leatherman and ipod) and scuttled away to a safer distance. The monkey looked at me with what I'm sure was a sly smirk on his face, popped the mango in his mouth, grabbed the bottle of ginger beer and retreated back onto the balcony. There he dangled the glass bottle over the ledge whilst looking at me and then just let it drop. I am pretty sure he winked at me when he did this before sauntering off down the road, bum in the air. Graham was nowhere to be seen.

Round 2 took place in the morning at breakfast. Once again Graham was noticeably scarce, but this time I was ready. Having eaten my food at record speed I was pretty smug when the monkeys turned up - so much so I almost went as far as to show them my empty plate. However for the second time in 2 days the monkey ran straight at me, jumped on the table, grabbed a piece of bread that Graham had left stuffed it under his arm, grabbed a handful of apricot jam before withdrawing to a comfier perch in the garden. I by this point was about 10 feet behind where I'd been sat just seconds before (once slapped, twice shy) so was helpless when the monkey then returned to wash down his toast with a face full of my tea. The little bugger literally stuck his whole face in my tea. It wouldn't have been much worse if he had then gone and weed in it but he didn't get the opportunity. One of the guys in the kitchen had clearly noticed me doing what must have looked like a bizarre dance amongst the breakfast tables so came out to see what i was doing. A simple hiss and the monkey disappeared almost in a puff of smoke and that was how it was left 2 - nil to the baddies.