One one things

We stayed a night in Mirissa and headed back towards Colombo on Tuesday with a plan to stop in Unawatuna and then Hikkaduwa for the last of the beach season for 2008. After lazing a bit in the sea off Tartaruga we headed to Hikkaduwa around lunchtime in time to run into some friends over the delights of the roti shop opposite Amaya Reef. It was a poya day so the sea was quite rough in Mirissa the previous day and even Unawatuna was pretty choppy. The Hikkaduwa sea can be a bit violent at the best of times and that day it was particularly rough. Nonetheless we played in the waves, did a bit of body surfing and went in reasonably deep. During the first dip I noticed a current parallel to the beach - it had a bit of strength but was only on the left wing of the water, just South of Top Secret, nothing to fret over bc it was just near the beach and the water was really shallow. Or so we thought.

Our friends left so we went to say bye and lazed a bit more on the beach and around 4pm decided to jump back in one last time before heading back home. By this time most ppl were out of the sea but a short while before we got in a couple of surfers went out to catch the ever ascending waves. There were three of them, two guys and a girl, but the girl didn’t go in bc the sea was too rough. The water really was very shallow, it barely got above my shin and this time neither of us wanted to go very far bc we were tired. I told R to stay away from the left wing bc of the current and so we both walked towards the right. I looked over my shoulder and R was finding it tough to even walk against the current, which seemed to have increased in strength. I still wasn’t in the least concerned bc the water was so shallow - I couldn’t for a moment imagine it being dangerous. When I realised she was struggling a bit I walked back towards her to help her and held her and started moving towards the right. Just then a large wave came and knocked us off balance. But more importantly the backwash pushed us to a dip in the sand and I immediately lost my footing. For the first time I felt not quite in control.

We were still able to stand but the current had dragged us several metres from where we were a few seconds ago. “Ok come, we need to get back to shore”. Another wave, another backwash - and things started to go bad. R could no longer stand and I had to tilt my head up to stay above water. We were being pushed back some more. “Ok we need to swim back now, let’s go, do breast stroke, if there’s a wave we have to catch it to the shore”. Till then I didn’t realise that we had walked into a rip current. The next 10 seconds were the scariest in my life. As soon as we took our feet off the sand we were at the mercy of the current. Within a matter of seconds we had been swept way out without even feeling it. And even then the gravity of the situation didn’t quite register. All my common sense was gone, I knew exactly what to do in a current, but somehow I instinctively kept trying to swim directly back to shore - but obviously it was impossible, particularly trying to hold someone with one arm. I was panicking without even knowing it - so much so that I didn’t realise we were about 150m out and about 50m to the left of where we started - after about 25 seconds. The fact that we needed help only occured to me when I saw the surfers look at us from far away and point at us. Till then I was sure we could swim out of this - again complete irrationality.

Finally I waved my free arm at the 2 surfers, my other arm around R. “Help” I said feebly, still probably not fully realising the gravity of the situation, that we were still being taken away, be it slower than earlier. “Help!” a bit louder. R caught on and screamed help several times until I told her to stop bc the surfers heard us. She told me later that she didn’t even see the surfers there - such is the extent to which you lose control over your senses. I held R and tried to stay afloat till they got close. The silence was terrifying - the sea was empty, there were no waves, just the water quietly pushing us towards the ocean. Thankfully the surfers were excellent swimmers and soon they turned up - “You need help?” one of them said in a very calm Italian accent, I nodded and again feebly said yeah and gave R to one of them whilst we positioned the surf board to use as a flotation device. “It’s ok if you swallow bit of water - don’t worry. Just kick hard ok?” The two of us kicked - but I was completely numb by then. I had stopped thinking and just kicked and hoped our 8 legs would be strong enough to get to the shore. “Come on guys, you have to kick harder..come on!” I just kept kicking. It didn’t feel like we were moving an inch, but at least we had a flotation device. Then finally the waves started breaking over us - “duck duck duck - ok kick again! kick, kick!”

I really don’t know how long we took to get back to shore but it felt like an eternity. The closer we got to land I realised how much we had been carried away by the current - Top Secret looked like a mile away. We eventually reached the shore and staggered out on to the beach. I couldn’t speak - I hugged the two surfers and just said thanks and collapsed to the ground. The two of us sat down on the beach and stared into the ocean for ages. We didn’t say a word, we just stared blankly. If not for the two surfers we’d be dead, there’s no doubt about it. I can’t remember what I was thinking about while sitting there, but I did feel sick and wanted to throw up. It was the most sobering moment in my life.

I’ve always loved the sea, and I still do. But I never respected it the way that I do now. I was in Galle during the tsunami, but even that did not have a comparable impact on the way I thought of the sea. You realise how insignificant, helpless and powerless you are. Bottom line though was I was stupid, I knew the sea was rough, it was a poya day and worst of all I knew there was a current - I just assumed that bc the water was shallow there won’t be a problem. But one wave can change all that - and rip currents can be at their deadliest in low tide, shallow waters - as we found out. Today, I am completely humbled by the sea, I will never assume that my minuscule capabilities will be able to overcome its might. But I’m not afraid of it, I love it, I respect it, but I’m not afraid. There’s no reason to be afraid if you’re sensible and know what you’re doing and act within your limitations. It was a pretty harrowing way to end the Southern sea season for 2008, but I can’t wait to get back in there come 2009. Bring it on.

Being jetlagged is a bitch. I hate flying at the best of times, and going to Canada and back for 2 days really does stretch things. It didn’t help that Ottawa was pretty dull, plus it rained shit loads, foiling my efforts to try a beavertail. But the good thing about going to not so exciting places is that it reminds you of how super it is back home, and bc I haven’t written in a while I thought it’s best to scrape together some memories of the last few months. A quick glance at recent posts shows the last time I travel-logged was during dive season - eek. But since then things have been a bit quiet - couple more dive trips, yala, wasgamuwa and some spot off talpe which was superb even off-season.

We went diving off unawatuna sometime in March I think and it was substantially better than Hikkaduwa. The dive station is superb, better equip, spacious and the chaps there clean the gear once your done. Oh and nothing like having a nice cup of tea and biscuits set up for you as soon as you come out of the water. It is the excreta. First dive was at Godagala, which was amazing. Fantastic viz, loads of marine life and a thoroughly pleasant and chill session. Next day however was a different story, we took a boat further out to Aluthgala and as is now the practice I got nice and seasick but held it in till after the dive. But things got worse before they got better. Soon as I got in the water and began to descend my ears didn’t feel right. Every 2m or so it hurt so I signaled to Prabath that there was something wrong. After a couple of minutes of trying I was ready to give up and let the others go ahead. But Prabath pulled me back up a long way and finally the ears popped - good to go. Unfortunately I lost shit-loads of air in those few stressed minutes so I couldn’t quite relax for what was a really nice dive. I loved the part where we chipped at a bit of coral attracting a bunch of fish that came and fed on the debris. The rest was eventless until M disappeared just before we were due to re-surface. We looked around for a minute and then had to ascend, A in a panic having lost her dive buddy. Luckily when we hit the surface M was already there, waving from the boat. She had shot up when her tank emptied. I puked as soon as I got on the boat, but more worryingly coughed up some blood - the pressure had messed up some vessels. But all was ok.

The March long weekend was the next chance for some travel and annoyingly everyone had all sorts of plans so come Saturday morning R and I just got into the car and drove without really knowing where we were going. Ended up in Tissa at a place I had seen online that sounded charming. It wasn’t that charming and we’d find out later that the chaps running it were a bit too keen on the buck, but it had beds and it would do. Anyway it was almost Yala season so we found a jeep the next day and headed off to the park at dawn. The driver was a bit shady but he promised to hook me up with a contact at the Salt Coop bungalow which would in theory sort out my accommodation hassles for future ventures. There was a bit of a drizzle which was annoying but it cleared up soon enough and the fresh post-rain forest smells are really out of this world. It was R’s first time in Yala so it was mildly embarrassing to have to stop for jungle fowl and so on. That said, it was actually nice appreciate the game we normally take for granted - the colourfully clumsy jungle fowl, the darting eyes of the spotted deer and streams of wild piglets with spirally tails and of course dozens of Yala’s feathered inhabitants. I’ve been reading a pretty decent book called Jungle Journeys in Ceylon where in the 50s they write of leopard and bear being vermin and shooting them for fun - it’s pretty sad that in 50 years they’ve gone from over-abundance to precious few. When I say the book is decent I mean beyond the first chapter - which is a disaster. It’s really hard to write about Yala and be mind numbingly boring, but that chap managed it, and worryingly, he’s the editor. But the rest of it is super (except the last chapter, which is by his son) - Sri Lankan nepotism, got to love it. The morning round wasn’t very exciting, no major sightings except getting out of the vehicle at Patalangala and seeing an elephant further up the beach. But the disappointment was drowned in the Menik ganga at Kosgasmankada, where we stopped for a rice packet whilst seated on the kumbuk log that rests over the river. We jumped in the river despite the warnings about crocs - nothing gets between me and a good river bath.

About 6 years ago I was camping at Kosgasmankada in the height of the dry season and the river was completely dry so we set up camp on the river bed. One morning some of us walked upstream and came across a crocodile carcass. It smelled quite bad but then how not to come away with a few crocodile teeth? We returned to camp after a while but one of my friends decided to have another look alone the next day. Ten minutes later we see the fellow hooking it back to camp. After catching his breath he explained that he walked up to the carcass and despite his bad eyesight had seen a fuzzy black image just to the right of the croc. In the nick of time it occurred to him that the black fuzzy thing was in fact a sloth bear. Luckily the bear has worse eyesight than our friend so he returned to tell the story. That was a great Yala year, a time when Komaweva was home to a particularly extroverted leopard cub, who for our luck dragged a wildboar carcass across the road right in front of our jeep. Superb.

Back to the present. Refreshed by the river bath we headed back to the jeep. Despite not seeing much game other than several Jackal near Buttuwa and most of the species of eagles (including a pair of lovely white bellied sea eagles who completed a successful fishing mission while we watched) it was fantastic being in the park that was near empty. There wouldn’t have been more than 5 other vehicles in the park and we were the first locals to enter the park in months. There’s been plenty of bad press about Yala about security and all but it actually felt quite safe given the extent of army foot patrols in the area. That said I heard that a buffalo had its foot blown off the other day in a mine. In Block 1. Around 3pm our driver decided to be a Johnny and got stuck in some mud on a by-road off meda para. The tracker was pissed bc he and I had to push in vain. Since there were hardly any other vehicles and we were on a lonely stretch, we were mildly screwed. The driver, despite our protests, decided to make a dash to main road to find a vehicle. The bad form was that if the army guys spotted a chap running they’d shoot him, no questions. So the bugger stuck his hands up, held aloft his white shirt, and ran. He was gone for half an hour or so and with it went his tip. The tracker in the meanwhile had a proper rant about him, accusing him of being a druggie and what not. Eventually driver turned up with a vehicle and we were out of trouble.

It was almost 4 and I had given up hopes of seeing any leopard when we headed out of meda para. Just as we reached main road and took a left the tracker hissed, “kotiya kotiya kotiya! reverse karapang!” Everyone shot up - eyes peeled into the forest. And there he was. A magnificent male, resting on a branch of a siyambala tree. We cut the engine and admired him, yawning lazily and peering straight back at us. The best part was there were no other vehicles - no van-fulls shouting and pointing, no clicking cameras and best of all no spluttering engines - just the sound of the Gonalabbe Weva lapping against the shore, the rustling of leaves and the sound of our hearts. After about 15 minutes he decided to stretch and climb down, ever so slowly, a beautiful physique perfectly juxtaposed against the amber sky. This was Pottaya, a seasoned male with a dubious eye - he was very comfortable with our presence and didn’t seem bothered at all. He quietly got off the tree and made his way to the forest. It was one of the most peaceful leopard sightings I’ve enjoyed in a long while.

Thoroughly content we headed back towards the office. We stopped for a bit to look at an amazing sight of an elephant carcass being fed on by dozens of crocodiles. The carcass was all but skeleton but the ground surrounding it was, without the mildest exaggeration, a mass of grey. The crocs had completely taken over a radius of about 8m around the skeleton - just lying there, jealously guarding what was once their fodder. After a few mins one of the few vehicles remaining in the park overtook us and headed along main road and we followed it back. The vehicle was about 100m ahead of us when I saw an animal of some sort ambling on the side of the road in front of the retreating vehicle. I thought its probably a wildboar or deer, but there was something about the way it was walking, head swaying from side to side. Just then our tracker also leaned forward and said, “ara mokekda?” and immediately there was a cloud of dust as the jeep ahead braked and the animal shot across the road - leopard! “Yanna yanna yanna!” the tracker all but yelled, and we caught up. The leopard was in the thicket walking parallel to the road and we tracked her for a bit before she headed off into the forest. She was a lot smaller than the previous sighting but just as pretty. How we wished we’d been in front of the vehicle ahead, we’d have spotted her earlier and avoided startling her. Before we knew it it was almost 6.30 so we had to leave the park. The tracker is superb, his name is Priyantha, he doesn’t say much unless probed, and has a fabulous pair of eyes.

We got back to Tissa and fuelled up on some superb kottu from a kadey at Debaraweva junc. In the night we headed out to the jetty in the Tissamaharama rest house and stargazed while reliving our rounds. What a great day - 2 leopard sightings in one day in March, that’s some serious luck. We got back on the road again the next day - the tentative plan was to stop in Tangalle and do some diving but the road to the town was closed bc of something or the other so we took a detour and went to Mirissa instead, after stopping at the blowhole off Dickoya. The blowhole is well worth a visit if you’re in the area - it’s pretty popular amongst the locals and a nice way to stretch the legs mid-journey. Mirissa was nice, especially the place we found to stay, called Suduweli, which was a lovely wooden contraption with very basic rooms overlooking the sea. In fact it’s so basic that there’s no attached bathroom - but it’s all good. And it’s cheap as chips, I’m talking 700 bucks a night cheap. Jayasuriya, who I made friends with on an earlier trip, made sure we were well fed and warned us about the sea - “eeyeth api ekkenek hari amaruweng bera gaththe, wediya yanna epa”. I smiled and ignored his warning - to our peril, as we’d find out the next day. But that’s another story. The jet lag is wearing off and it’s time to get some shut-eye.

Unsatisfied with the insightful discourse following the incident of the man, the well and the fire brigade, the DM boys struck again. The article describing the recent lightning attack on the police was an obvious target. Unfortunately a cop had passed away when lightning struck a police post in Buttala. Naturally the cops retaliated with small arms fire causing heavy casualties amongst the retreating lightning. Here’s what they had to say.

“What’s happening in Sri Lanka.. Even the nature is against the Sri Lanka Authorities. Do you all thing what am thinking ? Tamil Tigers, Green tiger, white tiger UN tigers and now Nature Tiger. Am curious who did they opened fire at ? Wind or Rain or Lightning itself? It makes me feel so nice.” - Nature tiger? Never! And they probably opened fire at this. Fecking Thalaivar and his scientologists.

“This is the type of Police we have. They cannot differentiate lightning from LTTE. God save us and our country.”

“Yes, I have experienced this type of reaction from my motherland on my visits in the past several years. It is now getting from bad to worse. Those in ” POWER” not to mention the highest in charge of the beautiful very small country should open their eyes, ears & rectify the situation before it is too oo late!!!!” - Damn that motherland and her dubious reactions. But seriously, what can Mahinda do? take his sarong and hold it over the chaps under threat of lightning?

“Unitl now only the LTTE, JVP and the politicians were striking the police. Now Lightning also striking the police. Strike back the lightning police.” - That’s right.

“When lightning strucks (sic) someone, that person just falls on the ground dead. so no one would know unless they are experts that it was lightning that struck. Other police officers must have thought it was a sniper shot or something so they opened fire.” - Wisdom. I suspect it would be pretty cool to be a lightning death expert.

“My friends,dont blame or laugh at any body.we shouldn’t do that and that is not the feedback what we supposed to do here.” - Exactly, there’s plenty of others to do the laughing.

“Sri Lankan government and other institutions like university of Moratuwa, university of Colombo (Dept. of Science) and research Institutions such as IFS must take the initiative to educate ordinary citizens.Especially govt.institutions have a duty to carry on because they are paid by the tax payers of the country. That means this people who die due to lack of information and knowledge.I know that we cannot avoid the natural disasters,but we can minimize the devastating effects by educating people.Because Sri Lanka is a small country!” - Damn straight. If on the other hand SL was a big country it would be ok. Despite the pretensions of intelligence, this chap is clearly insane. I mean he’s talking nonsense about govt institutions having to carry out duties bc they are paid by tax payers? What cock. Traitor! pass the J.

“There should be adequate protection for the people who are working outside. Nature doesn’t have done any thing but authorities have not adopted the proper precautions against the nature where applicable.” - Ah. Eloquence. Love it.

It must be said, the Buttala cops are a delightful bunch. They were nice enough to let me keep my license despite clocking me at 72. They are clearly not deserving of such ungenerous comments by these dubious chaps. For shame.

The Daily Mirror has been superb in being the first to attempt real time news delivery to the internet loving Ceylonese. But the real value of this has not been timely access to news - it’s the comedic value of the comments. In the past we were confined to that small batallion of retired chaps who engaged in skirmishes in the letters to the editor of the respective dailys. Grappling weighty topics such as “Buddhism and meat eating: a response in 16 parts”, “The menace of stray dogs in Dehiwala”, “The deteriorating relationship between youth and crocodiles in Ratnapura” ad nauseum. Fair enough too, retired chaps need to let of steam somewhere. But now with online commenting, a whole new can of worms has been opened. Chaps don’t have to retire till they can air their most profound statements, this can be done in a matter of clicks while sipping that tea with 14 spoons of sugar. Para bellum.

So today I was running through the DM looking to see if we’re winning the war, when a couple of stories down there’s a rather sad passage about a chap who has fallen into a well in Kirulopane and passed away before the fire department could save him. Bad form. But what was intriguing was the 14 comments about this story - so much sympathy, so little time? curiosity got the better of me and I clicked. I really didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Our buggers one thing.

Here are a few excerpts.

“While feeling sorry for the person, must say that our opposition has fallen into a much deeper well. How can we bring them up?”

“Shame on you fire brigade, Indian FB rescued a child from a much deeper and a narrow well, Good reason to create some scholarships to India for the FB guys!!!!”

“The people should have called FD and informed them Dr.(Mervin) Silva is in the well and not just the FD but even the PSD will come to rescue him in no time.” - it’s superb how in the past 4 months there has not been one story on the DM that has not had a comment referring to our favourite parliamentarian.

“Our people are finding an AXE to cut thing that you can remove with the finger nail. There was a small boy who rescued his mother who fell in the well without any fire brigade. Hope our country people open their brain and do sensible things in general.” - good policies for a better ceylon.

“Fire brigade happy new year”

“”Well” done!”

Oh dear. (oh well, even).

It’s been a while since I wrote something during office hours but i’m feeling mildly rebellious today. I have nothing to say as such but I’m going to say it anyway. Just because I’m feeling rebellious. It’s been an oddish day - started up with a bang (mea culpa, bad joke) and proceeded to improve despite a 3 hour bat on the Sri Lanka transport board courtesy some chap the office chaps felt would be a good chap to talk to us. And he was good. He said some great stories about moving from the private sector to work in the govt sector - spiced by some super reenactments of phone conversations, sarong hiking and all. In the last few months I’ve heard encouraging stories about the SLTB and the Railways - at least the chaps in charge are quite encouraging, and they both seem to think that the minister is the shit.

(I must at this point digress for a minute to relate a great railway story this chap said. So our friend was on an inspection run from Colombo to Badulla and he was with his deputy in the Engine putting a giggle with the driver. All is good till the guard rocks up, swearing at the top of his lungs and looking in bad shape. The deputy is told to go and see if the guard is cocked. “Plastered sir, stinking of booze even.” So they stop in Nawalapitiya (or Nanuoya, I can’t recall) and GMR hands over the drunk guard to the railway security chaps and tell them to get the bugger charged by the superintendent. Now it’s quite late in the piece, just short of midnight, and the security chaps escort the guard to the SI’s residence. After several knocks a light flickers on and the SI staggers out. “Mokada oy raa meda? hic” The SI is trolleyed. The security chaps explain that the guard was removed from the Badulla train bc he was drunk and needs to be charged. The SI peers at the guard for a good 2 mins before spluttering, “Meya beela nah yako, mama outa wada veri ne, yanawa yanna.” Slams the door. So they return to the station with the guard who passes out promptly. The GMR stops by the next day on the return leg only to be told that the guard could not be charged and that he now is demanding an apology and compensation for being wrongfully kicked off the train. So the GMR apologised, and the guard was compensated.)

So at the minute both systems (SLTB, CGR) are, unfortunately, not the shit. SLTB loses around Rs. 3Bn a year (main problem being a spectacularly bloated staff of 38000 swelled by politically appointed Johnnies who are predominantly ata pass, at best) and the railways can’t cover variable cost - which is bad form, really (here the problem is a lack of flexibility in pricing. It costs around Rs. 70 to go back forth Colombo Moratuwa by bus - by train it costs around Rs. 18 - and GMR can’t increase it without the political nod - so obviously no cash for investment, incentives, nothing). But these chaps who spoke to us have the balls and the mind to set things in the right direction - VRS’s at the SLTB and internal markets in the CGR. Let’s wish them some luck because they bloody well need it with our trade union brothers. That said, we’ll probably have a change of government and everything will be scratched. That’s why we love our political system. Rah.

After that super long discourse I did two sound hours of work before taking a break to have a Dinemor Tuna sub which is, also, the shit. Unfortunately my day took a turn for the worse having received in my inbox a rather dicey picture of a Chinese kid trying to cut off his love-stick. Now I know they’ve had population issues in the past but this might be a tad extreme. Just as I was recovering from that I get pictures from a colleague of this morning’s bomb victim - gruesomely splayed across Galle road. What strange people I associate with. Thankfully my spirits were rescued by a fabulous image I stumbled across of a young lefty girl wearing a beret and brandishing a Kalashnikov. Which explains why I’m feeling rebellious, and this post for that matter. I’m certainly not getting those fifteen minutes of my life back. Thankfully my procrastination came to an end when I came across a former housemate’s PhD topic. This is the kind of thing that slaps you in the face, tells you to sit up and appreciate your job, well mine at least. His thesis is entitled;

“The Acquisition of Books by Chetham’s Library 1655-1685: A Case Study in the Distribution and Reception of Texts in the English Provinces in the 17th Century.”
It goes on to explain that he will be undertaking a three-year AHRC-funded doctoral (PhD) project to research the Library’s acquisitions policy between its foundation in 1655 and the death of its first supplier, Robert Littlebury, in 1685. It is hoped that this project will not only generate a thesis about the trade in books and ideas between London and Manchester in the 17th century, but also a detailed transcript of the Library’s earliest accessions registers.”

My God. Oh GSP +, let me embrace you in amorous splendour.

P.s.
This post’s title pays tribute to the Island headline of 5/3/2008 “Robbers of pubic money will burn in hell - CJ” which is easily the best example of journalism, ever. Who says we don’t have media freedom?

The five of us returned to Hikkaduwa the following Saturday at the crack of dawn. We opted to stay in Hikkaduwa itself this time, setting up camp at International before heading to the dive centre for the 9am start. It had rained buckets in Colombo the last couple days and it had been the same story in the South. The first thing that struck me as we got there was the lack of ppl. Last weekend the dive station was almost full - something was amiss this time. All morning chaps had been talking about poor visibility and generally sub-optimal conditions. We didn’t take much notice - the first two dives were such a pleasant experience it couldn’t possibly be as bad as they made out. We started the day with the final confined water dive, simulating running out of air scenarios, regulator malfunctions and compass navigation among other exercises. This time Manu joined us as well to speed up the process so we were done having used up only a fourth of our oxygen. It was time for open water.

Before we set off Somay had a long discussion with Raina and basically said not to go to Sandfield since conditions would be pretty bad. Raina and Manu figured we’ll give it a shot anyway so we set off. On the boat they kept emphasizing to us the importance of sticking together since visibility would at best be around 5m. The water was very choppy and it was quite tough getting the boat out of the reef. We came to a halt at Sandfield and Sarath threw out the anchor. The water was nowhere near as clear as last time - and the waves kept rocking the boat making me feel mildly ill. We jumped in fully kitted and had to struggle to avoid getting bashed against the boat by the waves. Having settled together near the anchor line we began our descent, Manu leading the way, A behind her and I was next. The water was awful and I could only just see A in front of me and Manu in front of her - I didn’t even bother looking up because I couldn’t see anyone above me. We kept descending and the water got murkier and murkier - after about a minute I could not see past my own arms and was relying entirely on my grip of the anchor line. It was impossible to stay in one place as the water kept throwing me around. I kept lowering myself along the anchor - barely able to distinguish A’s silhouette in front of me as it became pitch black. I thought the light was blocked by the boat being directly above us and for a moment I felt mildly claustrophobic. But I maintained my grip on the anchor line and Manu had come between A and I and I felt comforted by her presence. In reality the drop in visibility had nothing to do with the boat but just the terrible conditions at that depth - later Manu said it was like night diving without illumination. I was worried about A bc she really struggles when she can’t see the bottom - but she seemed to be reasonably calm at the time. Finally my feet hit the ground and I could feel the chain attached to the anchor in my hand - I didn’t know if this was a good thing or not and at one point I almost let go - much to Manu’s horror. Things deteriorated and soon everything became a daze, I was completely disoriented due to the absolute lack of visibility and the constant flux of the water. I had no idea what was happening and just kept breathing and holding the anchor line. I still had not seen any others besides A and Manu - I had no idea if they had aborted the dive already. I really didn’t see any other option. Eventually Manu gave the signal to A and I that we’re aborting - thumbs up, time for ascent.

We got to the surface relieved - I was finally able to think clearly and act on my own accord, it was incredibly liberating to be in control of myself again. Looking back it’s amazing the extent to which depths can disorientate you - I had absolutely no control over myself when I was at the bottom, my senses were completely compromised and the only thing I could do was to breathe, try to stay calm and follow the instructor. I guess if I was on my own I’d have just gone back to the surface in a normal ascent. After the spectacular dives of last weekend, this was a dramatic crash landing. We got back on the boat - slightly shocked but in good enough humour to try again. We decided to try a different dive spot at Hikkaduwa Gala. When we reached the new spot the visibility from the boat was better than it was from Sandfield so we decided to go ahead. We had just enough oxygen in the tank to last about half an hour so we didn’t waste any time on lessons at the bottom.

Hikkaduwa Gala was much deeper than Sandfield at about 18m - the descent took longer, and while visibility was nowhere near the previous week, it was much better than the aborted morning dive. The currents were a lot stronger than on our previous dives so it was an effort getting through some of the valleys formed between the underwater rocks. Within a few minutes I settled down and began to enjoy the dive. Hikkaduwa Gala was nice - the geography was quite interesting, far more rocky and plenty of stunning fish again. I saw a beautiful green star fish and lots of much bigger schools than we had seen earlier. Within a few minutes the disaster at Sandfield was out of my head and I was loving it all over again - and these were still sub-optimal conditions. We had dived 18.7m this time so Raina wanted to do a safety stop 5m below the surface where we’d hover for 3 mins. As we ascended the visibility improved and at 5m it was absolutely stunning. There were scores of fish of all manner of colours busily tending the large rock next to us - it felt like day 1 all over again, beautiful. I got back to the surface faster than I should have - but I didn’t even notice it bc I felt I was in line with everyone else when all of a sudden I was at the surface while the rest took a good 25 seconds to join me. As we were heading back to shore Manu said that the conditions in Sandfield that morning were the worst she’d ever experienced and that they were extremely happy how we’d maintained composure in the circumstances. Pat on the back chaps.

That afternoon we were due to have our final theory lessons on the dive tables followed by the big one - final exam. We needed a hefty lunch at Refresh to recover from the morning adventure and to prepare for the afternoon’s work. By 2 pm we were so full we all but headed out to Top Secret to put a nap, but eventually dragged ourselves back to the dive centre for the final push. The last theory stuff was all about nitrogen build up with depth - nitrogen narcosis and the bends. The theory itself is quite simple - and what is more relevant is the dive table and how to calculate times between dives based on depth/length of dive etc. While it looks a bit complicated at first glance it only requires basic mathematical and reasoning skills. We did several calculations for practice and then it was time for the final PADI exam. 50 MCQs, covering all the theory we’d looked at over the past 4 days. You need 75% to pass - ie. 38/50. It was far from rocket science - and with only a couple of tricky questions most of us got over 90%. We did it, we had all but completed the PADI course, just one more open water dive the next morning and we’d be licensed. We celebrated in style that night. Dinner and wine at Spaghetti & co, G&Ts at Why Not (plus some drunken table tennis) all topped off with some silliness at Mambos. A great day, a great night.

Thankfully there was no hangover the next morning and we were at the dive centre by 9am. There were no more lessons or exercises so it was straight to the boat. Unfortunately the water hadn’t improved significantly over the last 18 hours or so. Following the rains of the previous week things were still sketchy due to the mixing of fresh water closer to the shore. This time we went straight to Hikkaduwa Gala which is much further away than Sandfield, a good ten mins by boat. The water was proper choppy and this time I felt really seasick. I kept trying to focus on the land but it didn’t work, I had a bad feeling I’d throw up at some stage. We got to Hikkaduwa Gala and as the boat stopped I felt as bad as I’d felt all day. Sarath saw my face and told me to get in the water as soon as possible. I quickly kitted up and went to the edge of the boat. Just as I stuck the regulator in my mouth the first taste of dry air was too much for me and I threw up a mouthful of the Milo I had drunk earlier. Tough - jump in. I felt much better in the water - and while the dive was much like the previous day, it was somewhat less satisfying in that there were less fish to be seen. I didn’t feel in great form throughout and kept looking at my pressure hoping we’d finish soon. Nonetheless I saw some nice stuff, specially a huge purple Boraluwa. After 45 mins we were done, it was bitter sweet for me, I wanted to get back to shore bc I wasn’t feeling great, but I knew it would be my last dive for at least 2 weeks. As soon as we got back on the boat and removed gear, I threw up furiously over the boat’s side. I didn’t feel any better till just before we reached shore we saw a massive Green Turtle swim by - it was easily the biggest I had ever seen. He followed alongside the boat all along the shallow water. But by the time we got out of the boat he had made his way back to the open water.

After 5 days, 4 open water dives, 3 confined water dives, 3 theory tests, one final exam, some amazing dives in perfect visibility, scores of fish in colours beyond description, one disastrous dive in zero visibility, sea turtles, eels and experiences to cherish forever, we were licensed scuba divers. After lunch we had a small tea party for the crew and for Raina, Manu and Somay - they were fabulous teachers and made the whole experience an absolute joy. I’m glad they’ll be in Hikkaduwa till April so I’ll get to see them again - in fact I think I’ll do that this weekend.

I woke up on independence morning with a dodgy throat and a few sniffles. I shrugged it off - nothing a bit of coffee and fresh air can’t cure. The others hadn’t woken up and there was half an hour to kill before the dive so I padded down to the Zimmer, still in sarong. Tilak was away but I enjoyed a fresh cup of Kandyan coffee and played with the pups till S came by and we eventually made our way back to Hikkaduwa. We were to start the day with a quick video screening followed by our second open water dive after a quick on-shore briefing by Raina. It felt like we were learning really fast - which was good in that we could progress quickly but at the same time I was concerned about retention. But so far so good. The 2nd dive was all about the unconventional - getting equipped in the water, secondary breathing and so on. The reports from morning divers suggested that the water was good but not as great as the previous day. Sarath brought the boat to shore and we were ready to go - again the starting point would be Sandfield but we were going to go on a different dive path this time.

The nerves of the first time had all but disappeared, the circumstances were also different - we were to jump into the water with only the wet suit, fins and mask on. Soon as we were in the water the crew chucked in the BCD and oxygen tank into the water - we had to kit up in the water. It looked complicated when Raina did it but it was quite easy in the end. Then followed the weights which were a bit trickier bc if it slipped out of grip it would go all the way down. As it turned out there were no problems, we were good to go down. I had a few problems equalising this time and felt myself struggling to go down smoothly. Theory lessons kicked in - if there’s difficulty equalising go back up a bit and try again. Eventually it worked and I was able to get to the bottom without any pain or discomfort. We began the dive with a few exercises including octopus breathing - which is basically breathing out of your buddy’s secondary oxygen supply in case you run out of air, buoyancy exercises, mask removal and so on. After about 15 mins we were ready to go exploring. As expected visibility wasn’t quite like the previous day but it was still good at around 10m. Again there were loads of fish and I felt I was able to take more of the surroundings in since I was more used to the circumstances and procedures. Equalising happened almost automatically, the buddies were synchronized better - everything was a lot smoother, allowing us to pay more attention to the fish and other marine life.

The highlight of the dive was the “cave”. When Raina said we’ll try the cave I expected a long dark tunnel - but it turned out to be quite small and you could see the end from the beginning. Nonetheless it appeared challenging to control buoyancy such that you don’t go crashing into surrounding rocks and the roof of the cave. The whole buoyancy thing remains a bit of a mystery to me - it seems to happen very naturally for me simply by controlling the air in my lungs which requires no concerted effort on my part. But as Somay said on our return, buoyancy is the most important factor and if buoyancy can’t be controlled you can never dive properly. Maybe it becomes more complex with greater depth. We went through the cave one at a time, led by Raina. It was a breeze, and though the cave itself had nothing to write home about, coming out of the cave was fabulous. There were loads of fish on the outer roof of the cave and the bubbles were pretty cool. It’s as if the whole rock is breathing and the bubbles expand slowly as the air in them increase in volume as they ascend - much like the air in our lungs if we were to ascend too fast. We played around with the bubbles for a few minutes, intoxicated, watching them burst on our masks and catching them in our hands (after missing them several times due to the difficulty in judging distance underwater bc of refraction). One of the things I love about being underwater is the way things happen so slowly - everything has its own pace, it’s calming, peaceful and almost meditative. The inability to recognize and name fish continued to frustrate me - I needed to invest in a book of some sorts. When we finished the dive I felt a bit nauseous - probably due to the dehydration caused by the dry air being inhaled combined with a touch of sea sickness. The first weekend of diving had come to a close - four days of anticipation till we returned.

Reads the first entry in my dive log book. We began day 2 with another video presentation and a theory lesson looking at more underwater communication, standard descent and ascent practices and more safety procedures. This took up much of the morning and after a lunch of roti and fried rice we were set for our first open water dive. That morning all the divers returned to shore with glowing reviews. “Perfect conditions man, 25m visibility, no jokes.” It sounded auspicious. This time we had to sort out the equipment on our own, and somehow everything came very naturally - BCD over oxygen tank, regulator in place, check oxygen, check BCD inflation and deflation, weights, fins, spit in goggles - good to go. Again nervous energy filled my body as Raina sat us down for our first dive briefing. We were put into buddy teams to look out for one another, for communication and for emergency procedures - I was with G and S and the two girls were together. Final buddy check before getting on the boat - BWRAF - BCD, Weights, Release, Air, Final check - OK. Raina suggested we remember it with the mnemonic - Burger With Relish And Fries. We got on the boat, wet suits half on, everything else piled into the boat.

The Sandfield is just a few minutes boat ride away from the shore. When in the surf spot in Hikkaduwa you’d probably have noticed the rocks on the far right - Sandfield is just there. It was a great spot for a first dive bc it’s shallow and sandy. Looking out of the boat the water was so clear you could almost see the bottom - turquoise beauty. Finally the boat came to a halt and Sarath yelled out for the anchor to be dropped. We were ready and quietly began to kit up - serious mode again. Raina gave us a final briefing - it was quite simple; maximum depth would be around 12m, we stick together, watch out for your buddy, follow signals - first descend down the anchor rope, equalize and meet at the bottom. Raina dived in first and one by one we followed. I knew what to do, it was all very simple but I was nervous as hell - and I think everyone could see it. I was penultimate in and I stumbled towards the end of the boat held by one of the guys. I stood on the edge while Sarath checked my equip one last time - he told me to hold my mask to my face using three fingers of my right hand and to hold the regulator to my mouth using the other two fingers. Left hand holding the BCD inflator. “Baya nathuwa paninna” he said. I waited. I wanted to compose myself and be ready. Everything stopped. “Kalabala wenna epa.” Instinct took over and I felt calm somewhere deep inside. I took a deep breath from my regulator and extended my right foot out and let myself go. Eyes closed but yet wide open.

The water felt great even through the wet suit - quickly inflated my BCD, signalled to the boat that I was ok having achieved neutral buoyancy. I was afloat and breathing fine so I switched to snorkel to save oxygen. I swam on my back towards the rest of the crew who had assembled near the anchor line. Raina checked we were all ok - gave us a couple of minutes to feel comfortable in the water and he put the thumbs down sign - we were going down. Regulators on, hands on rope - deflate BCD. From that moment you enter a different world. The water was crystal clear and I could see the two girls in front of me and the two guys behind me when I looked up. I was a bit worried about my ears and my congestion - but luckily equalisation wasn’t a problem at all. The descent was smooth - I took deep long breaths and in a minute or so my feet hit the sand. Soon everyone was on the sea bed - we sat down in a circle. M was playing with the sand, I felt calm, happy, excited, exhilarated; no longer nervous. Raina went around the asking in sign language if everyone is ok - index and thumb forming a circle, and the other three fingers upright. And we were off, Raina leading the way. The next 45 minutes were among the best of my life - just thinking about it makes me smile, gives me gooseflesh and butterflies in my stomach. Just 12m beneath the surface of the ocean lies a different world and we were going to take a peak.

A different world really is the only way to describe it - I can only imagine what it would have looked like when the corals were alive - we asked Somay (who’s been diving for 40 years) and he just smiled nostalgically and looked beyond us towards the horizon and said “magey es deka hithanna bari tharam pin karala thiyanawa mata dakinna labuna ewa gana hithana kota.” The visibility was amazing - it was beautifully clear. There were scores of fish of just the most spectacular colours; they were all doing their own thing - nibbling on the rocks, swimming with intent, going places in orderly schools, not a care in the world. It was a privilege just to be amongst them - to be a part of their world for a special 45 mins. It was frustrating not being able to as yet name and recognize every fish we saw. But the few I did know were the Angel Fish, Parrot Fish, Sweet lips (Boraluwa) a few small Groupers. There was a cute lobster who kept going back and forth from the crevice in his rock home. The final highlight was a large eel whose name now eludes me. Every single one of those 45 minutes was remarkable to me - even though they felt like 15 mins - it was almost too much for me to take in in one go - I don’t think I registered in my mind even half of what I saw. I was simply awestruck. We swam around the rocks and returned to where we started - I have no idea how Raina found his way around bc I had absolutely no bearings under water - I barely have bearings on the surface. The only indication I got that the dive was coming to a close was when I checked my pressure gauge which read 50 - almost red and time to head back up. My buddy G’s pressure was less than 50 and he was a bit worried but by then we were ready to ascend. We gathered around in a circle again and Raina gave us the thumbs up. Slowly swim up releasing the expanding air from the BCD - right hand up for protection. The water gets warmer as you reach the surface and finally you bobble up on the surface of the water - inflate BCD. All 6 of us were up. Everyone removed their masks - giving way to grins of naked joy and excitement. We stumbled back on to the boat and could barely contain our emotions, describing what we saw and our own experiences - from the corner of my eye I could see Raina smiling at us from the side.

We were done for the day so we drove back to Unawatuna - tired but delighted. We spent a short while in the sea watching the most spectacular of sunsets, relaxing and telling our friends about our experiences and re-living them all over again. We had a couple of drinks at Lucky Tuna where Ricky came over for a chat. “Don’t you wish you had my life man? I work here during season and during off-season I travel - Thailand, Germany, France, Philippines - the works. Tell me the truth man, if you could, you’d do this, no?” I smiled and nodded. If only I had the courage. He was going to Germany in April to stay with one of his girlfriends. “My friend, the white girls, they like our dark skin. What can I do my friend?” he grins and walks back to serve up a Lucky Tuna Special Arrack Sour. After a solid dinner at Happy Banana we headed back to Shangri-la to be greeted by loud hip-hop music and about 20 ppl in our garden. wtf? There was a youngish bunch of fellows who seemed to have come down (up) from Aussie and had got set for what is now known as a Johnny party - for want of a stereo proper, a car stereo is tuned up full blast and the doors are opened - let there be dance. They had also set up a BBQ. If this wasn’t dubious enough there were two of the buggers halfway into our fridge. I was all set to have a go at them when G comes out of the shower and says “They’re alrite buggers men” and explained how they’d come in earlier and said that a few extra chaps had come over and asked if its ok to have a small do. Decent enough to ask is good enough for us. They earned more brownie points by asking us to join them and then giving us food. Good buggers. We proceeded to have our own fun with a shisha bong and Unawatuna’s finest.

I’m sitting at departures in Indira Gandhi airport as a write this, reminiscing about last weekend which seems so agonizingly far away right now. Getting my scuba license has been on the agenda for a long time and finally last weekend the plunge was taken. As usual it was G and I who first confirmed, with up to 6 others tentatively expressing interest. We had decided upon either Hikkaduwa or Unawatuna as the best bets. Unawatuna was naturally preferable since it’s infinitely more palatable to stay there. Unfortunately the chaps at the Unawatuna dive centre asked for something like 45 grand (down for 50) for the course so we settled on the Hikkaduwa International Dive centre who initially said 35 but a friend of ours knows Somay so he brought it down to 32, if we could muster up 5 fellows - manageable. We recruited 3 others in due course - A and two of G’s workmates. The course would take something like 4-5 days so we needed to set aside 2 weekends - and the independence long weekend would be the perfect start. We had to be at the dive station for 9.30am, which meant leaving colombo by latest 7 after a late night of BBQ and cocktails at a friend’s.

We got there by 9, nervous energy building as we watched the divers preparing for a morning dive. There was so much equipment around and everything looked really complicated, I had no idea if i’d manage to figure everything out. Bad news as one of G’s workmates gave a rope last minute. Luckily M, who along with 3 other friends of ours had tagged along for the ride, decided on a whim to take the course as well. Brilliant. After what seemed like an eternity the boat took the divers away for their morning dive and we were introduced to our instructor. Somay runs the place but the classes are handled by an Austrian couple - Raina and Manuela. Raina was handling our bunch so we were first led to the pool to see basic swimming skills. The course consists of 2 confined water dives and 5 open water dives along with 5 theory sessions and one final exam. We started with the first theory lesson and it was pretty easy - basic physics and common sense gets you through the concepts of depth and its effects on water/air pressure, bouyancy - followed by a video on equipment management. The video and theory discussion was followed by a 10 question quiz - it felt like school all over again.

After lunch we had our first confined water session. This is usually done in a pool but we were to have ours in the shallow sea within the reef. The first challenge was kitting up. We were shown how to connect up the BCD to the oxygen tank and the latter to the regulator. It was a bit of a daze bc there seemed like so much stuff to remember. Eventually the gear was in order and tested. Next was getting into the wetsuit, fitting on weights, masks, fins and figuring out how to walk in them. But by far the toughest part was walking the 50m of hot sand from the dive centre to the sea weighed down by a ton of equipment in a boiling suit. Once we got into the water it felt much better - though wading in fins wasn’t much fun. Finally the moment came (on hindsight its hardly a moment) where we deflated the BCDs and sank to the bottom. Even though it was just about 5 feet deep it felt completely different to be breathing underwater and seeing clearly everything around you. At first you have to concentrate hard to breathe properly but soon the cool feeling of oxygen in your mouth is reassuring and I relaxed and began to enjoy myself. We did a few exercises underwater - testing breathing, basic buoyancy skills and a couple of underwater simulations. It was great fun and after a few minutes I felt completely at home underwater - breathing through my mouth, learning not to hold my breath, ever. One of the nicest parts is the sign language. Obviously voice communication is impossible underwater so all communication is through sign language - there’s a sign for everything, including “there’s a fucking shark behind me.” I was in Delhi yesterday for a meeting and several times I caught myself using diving signs, specially the ok sign, instead of normal communication.

Raina is a fantastic instructor - everything he does underwater is so methodical and measured, it has an automatically calming influence. I didn’t even feel the hour we spent underwater. Even though we didn’t do any diving as such, besides a bit of underwater swimming to check buoyancy, the whole experience was surreal for me - a few fish swam by creating thrills that would pale into insignificance compared to what lay ahead on day 2. I came out of the water feeling exhilarated and thrilled to have embarked on this course. After cleaning equipment and clearing stuff away we called it a day at about 5. It was time to head to Unawatuna (we decided to stay there and avoid the Colombo invasion for the long weekend to Hikkaduwa). The Zimmer was full again so we stayed this time at Shangri-la, a quite fabulous old house all to ourselves for 6k a night. A pretty good deal since we had about 9 chaps in total. I like the places slightly inland in Unawatuna like the Czech House and Shangri-la since they feel like up-country or wildlife bungalows rather than beachside rooms - and yet they are just a couple of steps from the beach via appropriate short cuts. I really liked the look of Shangri-la - old, potentially creepy with lots of old photos and weird stuffed toys and of course a very sketchy attic. Unfortunately that night we were all pretty exhausted so we crashed pretty early after dinner at Rockview and a couple of Js - we’d need plenty of energy for day 2.

We lazed on the Tartaruga cushions and chatted with Upul till G turned up. I like Tartaruga - I like the people and the place is nice and laid back. The sea that evening was lovely, hardly a ripple and nice and warm. We wallowed for ages, skipping flat corals on the water, having under water races and just chatting as the sun settled into the Indian ocean. That evening we had a couple of drinks with Upul, who poured some potent G&Ts, before heading off to Rock View on the Southern end of the bay for more seafood while G returned to his abode for a more polished dinner. Somehow the three of us felt really tired that evening - and we were half asleep by 10.30 and probably would have crashed had G not returned and dragged us out to Riddim - the Diving Centre bar. Upul said earlier that they were having a small do at Riddim and that he was going there with his friends and for us to join. He had also promised to get us some greens via a friend of his. Unfortunately the friend didn’t show and so just before we left he went to his room and returned with a fist full - when I tried to pay him he declined and said it’s a gift. What a bugger.

Riddim looked in great form - a mix of locals and foreigners sitting around the beach, great trippy music, overall top atmosphere. I had a bit of fun with a Johnny from Weligama who was spectacularly odd. I needed some Rizla and asked his table - our friend, let’s call him Dalu, promptly stood up and ordered one of his catchers to provide me with whatever I needed. I was very grateful and thanked him. He grinned, came up to me and put his arm around me, asked if there’s anything else I wanted, offered me a drink, offered me a joint, asked my name and told me about five times to let him know if there’s anything I wanted. I thanked him, somewhat overwhelmed, rather apprehensive. We got our own table on the beach and proceeded to have a great time - Dalu kept raising his glass towards us and on two piss breaks came over to our table, put his arm around me and reinforced the offer of drinks, joints etc. By now things were a bit hazy. We headed back to the bar to replenish on cocktails and man walks up again and this time calls me away from my friends;

Dalu - Oya demma yanne nah ne?
Me - Er nah thawa winadi wissakin withara yanawa
Dalu - Ah, apith thawa poddakin yanawa. Mama Weligama inne, guests-la wagayak genawa, api poddakin Weligama yanawa..

At this point I half expected him to ask me to join them. G told me later that he was set to jump in if there was any sign of distress. Happily enough Dalu was content to leave me with an open invitation to his place whenever I’m next in Weligama. All along he held my hand which he refused to relinquish following a handshake, with his other arm around my shoulder. It was a still a bit of a daze - but the rest of the night I was the bite - the butt end of many a buggering joke. All for a bit of Rizla. We left Riddim around 2 and the four of us played rhyming games on the beach in front of Tartaruga under the stars. Another great night in Unawatuna - Mirissa or no Mirissa, we’ll be coming back here.

We had to leave on Monday despite Tuesday being a holiday since R had some work to sort out. (More importantly we had run out of money - traveling is getting bloody expensive, what with the escalating fuel costs and the average meal setting you back close to 500 bucks. It’s time to take the train more often and find cheaper spots to stay.) After a morning dip we made our way to jungle beach after settling with Upul and thanking him for a more than pleasant stay in the absence of our regular place. I had last been to jungle beach off season so it was extra pleasant when we made our way down there late in the morning. I was a bit worried about the tires surviving the sketchy road up to the Peace Pagoda but we managed. During the pleasant walk down the jungle path we were escorted by two dogs who felt we need guidance. They playfully ran alongside us, teasing one another and generally in love with life. Jungle Beach was isolated - it was a Monday so there were no inquisitive tourists, no local Johnnies - just 1 fisherman who kept to himself on the first beach. We crossed the rocks to the 2nd, larger and infinitely nicer beach. It was fantastic. I always feel like I’m in The Beach (the book, not the disastrous movie) whenever I go to jungle beach - it’s like a little island to itself, divorced from civilization, and still unspoilt (though there are the odd signs of careless visitors). The fishermen keep to themselves and the Sisters and I had the entire main beach to ourselves - it was fantastic. The water is shallow and crystal clear, there are a few fish hanging around, millions of sea shells and amusing corals - a haven for the many hermit crabs. A collected loads of pretty exotic sea shells and a bonus dead starfish. I spent the last half hour flat on my face, almost kissing the soft sand, eyes closed - I wouldn’t be anywhere else.

It was time to leave. Our two canine guides stayed with us all along at jungle beach and when we left they guided us again along the path up to the Pagoda - one was more mischievous than the other, frequently breaking away from the path, emerging from some nook ahead. When we got back to the pagoda they eagerly walked up to the car, tails wagging - it was reward time. We parted with our remaining biscuits and the dogs happily devoured them, enjoying their well earned tip. We hadn’t eaten all day so we stopped at Hansi’s in Hikkaduwa for some cheese and calamari roti - the best. We were given another discourse on the rising cost of living and how it’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain roadside shops, particularly with tourist numbers falling exponentially.

“Yudde nisa newei badu mila wadi wenne. Yuddeta wenama ayawayay wen karala thiyanawa. Bandula Gunawardena boru bana kiyanne. Amathiwaru siyaganang thiyagana podu mudal nasthi karanawa, ekai prashne. Oya mahaththuru thamai ithin chande daanne meh minissunta.”

I smiled. You can fool some people sometimes, you can’t fool all the people all the time. We made our way back home, stomachs full, bodies satisfied. The journey back is never fun - so we turned up the music and sang our way back to Colombo, through the rain in Panadura, the traffic in Dehiwala, and the checkpoints in Bambalapitiya. Welcome home.