One one things

So here’s a shitty post. I’ve been grumpy for almost a week now, and i don’t really know why. I first thought it must be wasgamuwa withdrawal symptoms on thursday and friday, which it probably was, of course helped by the spectacular weather and the results of a series of cockups by the CMC boys. It was hilarious watching that chap who Mays our city talking on the news about how he is in charge and that anyone with a grievance should come see him. I hope they have a good queueing system up in the town hall, bc us ceylonese are certainly not British, we couldn’t queue if we were between P and R. And he then went on to link hands with his staff and do a Mexican wave of sorts in his office. Must be the accumulated 3 wheel fumes. The last time I saw an attempted Mexican wave fall flat was when Bill Clinton tried to generate one during an ASEAN photo shoot. The other chaps thought he was doing some prayer ritual and promptly bowed at the cameras with palms together in Ayubowan style. Anyhow, more than the floods and stuff what ticked me off was the lack of sun. Now I enjoy my thunder storm as much as the other guy, but 2 days without sunshine is not good news. It also didn’t help that the lightning had sizzled my laptop and router at home. By some miracle the old laptop made a surprise come back and started to work. After a spectacularly unproductive 2 days I expected to return to normal by the weekend. And even the sun popped out.

But alas, Friday night poker and Saturday night monopoly sessions were temporary respites, in between there was more grumpiness. The best I felt pretty much all week was at CR jazz on Sunday, nice tonic and lime, good company and great music. I wish they had that more often, but then it might get tedious. Sunday evening blues set in after I got home, so there was once again an excuse for grumpiness. This followed through till Monday morning, but by Monday evening I was running out of excuses. There are few better cures for all things blue than Blackadder. So I popped in series 3 and cheered up instantly. All was good till this morning when I stepped into work and realised that it was going to be a visa day. Grumpiness was back before the Prince Regent could say disestablishmentarianism. (or antidisestablishmentarianism, pseuduantidisestablishmentarianism, antipseudoantidis..). I’ve always hated visa officers, they without exception seem to have large, fragile egos and volatile tempraments. The latter is understandable given the number of dimwits who present themselves for visa applications. Today I overheard an amusing conversation.

Visa officer - Where is your marriage certificate? without certificate no visa.
Lady - But sir it got washed away.
VO - what?
Lady - Yes sir, tsunami sir.
VO - But you live in Bandarawela
Lady - yes sir.
VO - When did you get married?
Lady - Last year sir.
VO - Please leave.

Ok so I made some of that up, but as a witty person once said, never let the facts get in the way of a good story. And she did say some startlingly foolish things. Today’s VO was not all that bad, he was actually quite nice to me, and I was nice to him. Nonetheless I managed to puncture his ego and I almost didn’t get the visa, but all’s well that ends well. Next week I have to go to the Brit visa office, and that I’m not looking forward to. A week later I’ll need to go sort out a visa to Manila. Something invariably goes wrong and I end up getting in the foulest of foul moods when visa hunting. So maybe that’s why all this grumpiness. It’s going to be a long month. Tomorrow I’m off to Delhi for a lightning trip, thank heavens my Kerala visa is still valid and I don’t have to meet the barking musthache again. That said I don’t have a confirmed return flight yet, what with all the changes to the flight schedules and certain airliners still unsure as to whether they’ll pull out of SL yet. Having watched the Terminal last night I get the shivers thinking about being stuck in the Delhi airport. Maybe I’ll at least meet a Catherine Sita.

Fact for the day - Hitwicket in French is “autodestruction”. Can just imagine their commenatry; “Ohh le Sanath Jayasuriya, oui un grand six! ooh la la..oh non non non! merde! il autodestruct! On doit faire attention quande l’hitte le ballon comme un bullet tracer”

p.s. most of that French is rubbish, please do not be foolish and use it in your next Alliance Francais class. I should know. My brother told me that pig in French is L’oink, I was le laughing stock, naturellement.

I was up with a start to the thumping of doors again at half 6. M still hadn’t mastered the art of unlocking the door from within so I stumbled to the door clutching the sarong. My runny nose had settled down after the extended sleep but my head still felt like a factory of lemmings hammering away. We were set to be out of the hotel for the whole day so we packed away some strings, bananas and mangoes to keep us company. We drove up to the forest department near Laggala and waited for one of the guides to show up. Ours was a party of two chaps and three girls, and I think the forest dept boys thought we were a bit soft. They suggested a 2 hour “trek” to see a waterfall. On further questioning it seemed the trek involved little walking and certainly no climbing. Offended, we demanded something more challenging. The guides looked at one another and with a mischievous grin suggested we then do a 7 hour trek which would involve climbing a 3000 or so foot rock. We couldn’t say no at this point so we accepted, to their surprise. We decided to leave behind the lunch packets since the extra weight would not be welcome, we packed in water (4L worth), cream crackers, bananas and a few other supplies. The boys would have to share the burden of the bag, equal opportunity at its best. Bandara the guide led the way, and it was uphill from the word go, but a gentle slope to start with. It was around 9am by this time and the sun was up, but we didn’t even feel it with the cooling canopy and the moist atmosphere.

Within five mins I was panting. I could feel the heart thumping against my chest and I could hear myself breathing, drowning out the sound of Bandara explaining all sorts of things about the flora. I looked around at the others hoping to see tiredness all around, but they all looked pretty determined, Bandara hadn’t even broken a sweat, worrying. We took a 250m detour to see the largest tree in the Knuckles range, it was pretty big, and rather out of place bc most of the trees don’t grow very tall given the wind. I took over bag duties as we returned to the trail and what fantastic timing, we had just begun the first steep section. Thankfully by this stage the girls were feeling the pinch and we began to stop frequently to catch our breath. The first leaches had made their appearences as well, hitting K twice as he was bringing up the rear. I was in shorts and bata slippers so it was easy to keep an eye out for unwanted suckers. The jungle became a bit thicker and we pressed on. At each turn the views became more spectacular, and within about 20 mins of climbing we could see our starting point, way way down below. But it was ominous when Bandara said we’d hardly begun yet. By this point I had serious doubts about being able to keep up this stunt for 7 hours.

I asked Bandara about animals in the area and according to him all of Sri Lankas major animals live in the Knuckles range other than the sloth bear. “kotiya?” i asked, he looked back, smiled and nodded. How exciting. He said that leopards catch the calves of the cattle brought up to the forest, and if you ever come across a carcass you can be guaranteed two or three leopards the following day. I couldn’t quite work out how elephants would manage on this terrain, but I guess they have their own niches. Unfortunately most of the animals stay away from the trails, as would be expected. We heard a couple of grunts and rustles in the bushes but it was only jungle fowl. As the muscles slowly warmed up, the trek became more palatable, and soon it became thoroughly enjoyable. Every so often we’d reach a little peak, and you suddenly find yourself in what looks like a beautifully tended garden as opposed to a forest. Pretty flowers, bees, open spaces of grass, only thing missing were a few Gnomes running around. The views continued to be spectacular, even putting the Laggala road views to shame. By now all tiredness was out of the window and we soldiered on merrily. Around noon we reached the highest point in our journey, a rock called Eth Oluwa. The entire rock looks like an elephant when seen from the side, and naturally the place we had just reached resembles the head. The adjoining rocks apparently resemble the body and tail.

From Eth oluwa we descended to another massive plain which stretched a very long way across. As soon as we reached it we ran into a small herd of buffalo happily wallowing in a small watering hole. Bandara chased them away since A had issues with them. The views from this rock (M something, shockingly i’ve forgotten the name and never bothered to write it down) were the best of the lot. It had a sheer drop which had to be approached on your belly like in World’s End. Below you could see paddy fields, trees of various colours, more mountains and even a forest fire. It was stunning. We stopped to have a break and re-fuel with some biscuits and bananas. By this time I had figured out how to wear the bag like a backpack, and coupled with the reduced weight after drinking most of the water, it barely felt like a burden. We began our descent around 1.30, and carried on pretty much non-stop all the way back. Bandara offered to take us to a village of 3 families that had never had any contact with the outside world. They live on subsistence farming and hunting, and never venture outside the forest. But it would be a 3.5km detour, and we wouldn’t have time for that. Bandara had by this time convinced us to return one day to do a 3 day trek with overnight camping to cover 3 of the knuckles peaks. It sounded fantastic other than for carrying all the stuff around everywhere, but I think it’s definitely worth exploring a bit further.

The last hour or so was really tiring bc we were now exposed to the sun completely, having left the forest. Bandara claimed the last stretch was just 3km but it took a good hour and half. we had planned to put a river bath as soon as we finished with the trek, and each time we crossed a stream our feet touched the icy water and that river bath became more tempting by the moment. Flu or no flu, there would be swimming today. We soldiered on and eventually reached the forest dept. We thanked Bandara and headed off to the river armed with towels and anticipation. It was quite crowded so we had to climb up a fair few rocks to reach an empty natural pool, but that first dip made everything worth it. Our aching limbs were brought back to life in a second and all was well with the world. After an hour or so of splashing around we headed back to the safari village. Quick showers and we were out on the rock for sunset over the lake. Ginger tea was followed by beers and G&Ts. The hotel chaps furnished us with devilled beef and devilled pork, making it quite a decadent way to spend vesak, but I can safely say it was worth it. As the sun set and the moon made an appearence we set off for dinner. This was followed by another abortive attempt at poker which quickly descended into a night of giggles, midnight walks to see the ducks, suspected visits by Gnomes, more giggles and finally a richly deserved sleep. The next morning we headed back to Colombo, one last drive through the beauty of knuckles, one last audience for the orchestra of crickets and one last leg of a wonderful extended weekend.