One one things

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.

There is nothing better than waking up and jumping into the sea. Nothing. You tend to lose track of time at the beach, I never wear a watch and keep my phone in the bag so the only indication of time is sunlight and the biological clock. On Sunday morning I dragged myself out of bed, a quick brushing of the teeth, change into bathers and I’m out of the room, shading my eyes from the bright morning light. A is already in the water, and I join her slowly - two steps into the sea, testing the water, it’s cold but welcoming. I step over a small wave and through the clear water I see the gentle drop - up to my knees now. I stop, look up and brace myself. The world stops in silence as I close my eyes and dive in. Crystal clear cold water wraps around me in an exhilarating burst of energy and life. I glide along the bed, my arms parting the water in front of me and gently disturbing the soft sand below me - eyes wide open, taking in the dead corals and shells scattered everywhere. I keep swimming along the seabed and want to go on forever. I need air eventually and head back up. One drag, another, almost there, I see the sun breaking through the water, warming it up as I get higher, little bit more - the sky wobbles above me now, light glittering on the surface of the water - one final push and I break through - exhale. I see nothing but blue around me and I inhale fresh, morning air. I’m awake, I’m alive.

It’s strange how far you can go while swimming below the surface without even noticing it, whereas on the surface you can swim forever but barely move an inch. A was back on the shore by the time I returned to where I could stand. I played around a bit more and went to get some coffee. Upul from Tartaruga brought coffee and we had a chat about the day’s plans. He wasn’t too impressed by the Mirissa plan saying there’s nothing great to do over there but that the beach is quite nice - good enough for us. We decided to do Jungle Beach on Monday since Sunday would probably attract more people. I don’t know where the next three hours went but by 11am we were in the car ready to go to Mirissa. A three wheeler had blocked the road just near the Lucky Tuna so while waiting for the chap to show up I decided to change the tire to placate my nerves. The old one was a mess - I’ll need to sort out that alignment back home. It took about 20 mins of thoroughly pleasant driving to get to Mirissa. We passed Weligama Bay which looked gorgeous as well. There was also an interesting looking rock in the sea off Ahangama which we found out could be climbed - more things to do next time. Getting to Mirissa I parked somewhere near the middle of the bay at a bare patch next to a restaurant like thing that said rice and curry somewhere on its wall. We wondered if the place was open but when we climbed down to the beach we got our answer. The place had not been touched since the tsunami - the walls were broken, the arch minus door was tilted about 30 degrees off the vertical and the place was dead inside. Ominous start.

The bay itself was magnificent - the sea was turquoise, a sign that it was shallow a fair distance, the beach was wide and I could count the number of people in two hands. Unlike Unwatuna and Hikkaduwa the beach isn’t peppered by shacks spouting up every 14 meters - there were just a few little spots with accommodation and food. Now the problem with Mirissa is that most of the places have the rather distasteful sign “Foreigners only” - that pisses me off. I also see where they’re coming from - still not a good enough excuse. This is our country. Anyway, there are enough places that don’t have the sign and in this day and age the others will have to loosen up. We made our way to The Mirissa Wadiya which looked a nice and laid back shack, had good chilled music and the werala kollas running the place put a grin and a nod. There was a big picture of Bob Marley on the makeshift wall, a hammock, spent joints on the sand and the few patrons knew each other and the atmosphere was perfect. After beers, tonic and juice we were ready for water - it was around noon, not the best time for the sea but it looked more than welcoming. I went first and the water felt great - it was shallow, clear and I waded in a good 100m before I was in chest high water. The waves are playful and break very close to the beach so where we were the water was very calm - I tingled imagining the water at dawn. I loved Mirissa in an instant and so did everyone else. A went as far as to say “That’s it for Unawatuna.” As scandalous as it sounds I felt the same.

After playing around for a couple of hours our stomachs called us back to the Wadiya where Jayasuriya, the old uncle who oversees the place, took our order of assorted fried rices, devilled prawns and R’s parippu. Jayasuriya said that they have rooms for about 600 bucks a night so I took down one of the guy’s phone numbers for future reference - we’re set. The food was excellent - super prawns, classic fried rice and all generous helpings. Unfortunately for M her boss called and wanted her back at work on Monday so she had to get back to Unawatuna to catch a ride to the City. We had time to climb the rock on the Southern tip of the bay - the view is stunning. To the North you can see the whole of Mirissa Bay, to the South you see another bay with a less expansive beach and more up-market villas and so on. In between there are lovely rock pools and expanses of gorgeous light blue water which would be havens for snorkeling. I could not wait to come back. We headed back to Unawatuna around 4, a hollow feeling descending on us, which only increased as M left. But one friend took the place of another as G, who was in the general area, dropped in to Unawatuna for an evening dip. Spirits rose with the prospect of another evening of Unawatuna fun.

So the long weekend diving thing was pushed back to the next long weekend (only about 10 days away - hooray) bc some of the chaps couldn’t do this weekend. Most of the usual suspects were going to be in and around the South for at least the weekend so The Sisters and I decided it would be more fun to get in some beach time rather than wallow in Colombo. The Zimmer was full so we figured we’d just go to WD road and find a spot - it usually works. I was slightly concerned about my terribly misaligned wheels which had resulted in the the front right tire having its seams exposed. I was examining the wheels at 7am just before takeoff when the next door driver takes a look and says,

Chap - “ammo alignment eka hena upset ne?”
Me - “hmm ow..Gaalla yanna thiyanawa, puluwangwei ne?”
Chap - “120 - kiyanna bah..”
Me - “Try ekak dannang ithin..spare eka thiyanawa ne”

So I drove off, wobbling away. Picked up the sisters, got some cash, picked up M and got to WD road by about 10. First tried our luck at Tilak’s in case of cancellations but man wasn’t around bc he usually only comes down from Kandy if the regulars are staying. A chap there recommended Silva’s as a good value option. A mental note was made. Next there was an interesting looking place called the Pink Elephant a bit further down but there was literally nobody there - it looked messy but somewhat homely. After shouting a couple of times without response we headed off to Blue Moon which was allegedly full. Happy Banana was pricey at 3k so we tried Tartaruga a couple of doors down. I’ve eaten there before and the guys are friendly so it promised to be fun and at 2.1k it was a good price for a place on the beach. The sea was in good form and happily the jellyfish had gone away. A lazy brunch of pancakes and chicken curry (for some reason this combination surprises most people and requires some explanation whenever I order it) was partaken at Peacock, followed by a thoroughly satisfying nap under the trees in front of Tartaruga. I was woken up to my amusement and annoyance by reggae music coming from the boombox of one of the boats that had anchored close to us. I tried to read but I get easily distracted on the beach, there’s usually so much going on and chaps drop by for a chat. A couple of the vendors came to put a wave and say hullo and Barbra the Python and the monkey came along and stole some of my pineapple.

It was approaching sundown so we had to decide between jungle beach, secret beach and sunset point. We went with the latter given the distance involved with the others. It’s a fabulous spot off the dagaba on the Northern tip of the bay - a sheer drop into the sea over a rocky cliff where the water battles the rocks in a neverending whirlpool of fury in which I drown my eyes. We sat down quietly on the rocks waiting like pilgrims for the sun to make that final descent into its resting place for the night. The sky prepared for the celebration by sending her off with a dozen shades of pink, orange and yellow. I sat cross legged in awe - peaceful, serene, beautiful. Even the sea went quiet in those few seconds when the sun sank in a final flourish of brilliant red. It was over. Quietly the moon took its place on the other side of the sky - a subtle, dignified silver in the backdrop of the darkening blue sky.

It was time to head back after a pause to take in the magnificence of the entire Bay viewed from sunset point - Unawatuna was preparing for another Saturday night. Three of us put a late evening swim in the dark and proceeded to get quite giggly for no apparent reason - I guess it’s just the exhilaration of being there. I usually feel apprehensive about getting into water in the dark but it was great fun this time. The sea was empty and the moon danced in the waves next to us. We laughed a lot, imagined all manner of shapes in the stars, made up new constellations, laughed some more, splashed around, giggled, made plans for the next two days and finally dragged ourselves out for showers. After a couple of drinks and brilliant bites (prawns wrapped in bacon and batter fried) at Happy Banana we had a quite decent Spaghetti Marinara for dinner at Full Moon (despite being told quite politely to hurry up since they close the kitchen at 10 to avoid disturbing the guests - fat chance of that given they are next to Happy Banana.) We stayed at HB till about 1am, delighted by the table of (I’m guessing) 40 something uncles and aunties absolutely rocking it to the melange of music - and I mean melange - meted out by the DJ. Caterpillars falling onto our cushions and a bit of trouble brewing with a couple of Johnnies at another table who took an interest in two of the girls sent us packing. We headed back to Tartaruga and chatted on the beach for another couple of hours before calling it a night.

This evening was awful. I spent 4 hours watching the most ridiculous session of ego massaging in history. 13, yes, 13 Johnnies spent 3 hours telling one other Johnny how great he is, and finally the great Johnny tells all of us how great he is (and almost cries in the process). I spent the last half hour of the show entering all the holidays into my phone calender so that I can quickly plan my long weekends. Yes it took half an hour. Happily this year almost all the holidays fall on Tuesdays or Thursdays. This is great news bc it makes it a long weekend by default. People don’t kid themselves anymore and just call it a long weekend. This morning I get a call from Commerce asking me when I’m free for a meeting next week. Now Tuesday is a day off (hooray) and they assumed everyone will be out of town on Monday and asked which of the other days is best - great. As I was entering the holidays I was distraught to find that Avurudu and Nonagathay fall on a Saturday and Sunday. But fear not. The 11th and 18th of April (both fridays) have been declared holidays in lieu of us being deprived of the due days off. Two more long weekends, brilliant. Vesak and “Day after Vesak” (which surely must be the best excuse for a holiday - ever) fall on a thursday and friday, which mean another long weekend. A long time ago I wrote some patriotic nonsense about why I want to live in SL. I lied. I’m here for the poya days.

Back to ego massaging, it seems to be something us Ceylonese love. Anyone with the remotest degree of authority is entitled to a massage. Today for instance there were 4 ministers who risked our lives (and ensured everyone gets thoroughly felt up by the guards - and I mean thoroughly) to show up at the public massage - and everytime someone spoke they had to get avasara from each of these Johnnies and of course avasara from about 17 other ppl. On average it took 3 minutes for a speaker to get permission to speak. There were also a couple of priests who had come to give divine blessings to the massage (but ended up making pseudo-political sermons, mentioning the Buddha only in footnotes or within parentheses). One of them gave a fascinating description of ozone depletion as if he had discovered it in his backyard last week. It was great - he went into wonderful detail about the sun’s heat and how scientists have discovered this natural protective layer that exists over the earth but how today there are holes forming in this protective layer due to the experiments being conducted by the British and the Americans. Yes, experiments, the bastards. (Actually since the biggest holes in the ozone layer are over Australia and one of the Poles it’s probably the Aussies and the Eskimos conducting the experiments - that is much more believable. No wonder the Eskimos discovered how to turn their bears white and the Aussies figured out how to make geriatrics into annoyingly good cricketers). After 6 minutes of describing this new discovery I saw chaps towards the front nodding in earnest. It’s called global warming. This was followed by a UNP (D) Minister giving a discourse on why we as a country need to be self sufficient - that it’s a disgrace that we are importing things like oil, milk powder and wheat, wasting money. All this in what was supposedly a gathering of economists. Superb.

It would be a violation of all things decent to wind up without mentioning the amusing Maldivians on Ravana’s blog. The Maldivians I’ve known have been thoroughly laid back and great fun. Two quick stories.

Maldivian friend is spying on his sister doing the dirty deed with a chap. Friend gets somewhat excited and ends up toppling something off the shelf he was peering through. Sister gets up and looks around,

Sister: “Oy! who’s there?”
Maldivian Friend: “Not me!”

…and runs away. What a man.

One time (at band camp) no, at school, we were being asked by the teacher where we see our selves in 10 years time. Everyone talks the talk and when my Maldivian friend’s turn comes along he says in all seriousness, “On a boat.” Who said Maldivians don’t have a sense of humour? They’re fabulous, and they’re fellow islanders. And islanders and the best landers.

I’ve had enough for today, and for this week for that matter. Unfortunately tomorrow is not a holiday - but at least I won’t be going to any glorified massage parlours. From Saturday to Tuesday I’ll be attempting to get myself a scuba license so that I can have a decent shot at getting the bends, claiming insanity and retiring in peace. Before I go I must recommend something that made my evening a lot better. (I suggest the work on Hayden and well everything else for that matter.)

Enjoy and happy holidays! (Yes we say that right through the year bc we are cool like that.)

December is nice for many reasons, but one of the highlights this year was the England cricket tour. It’s been an year since our last competitive home series so I had planned to get in as many days of live cricket in between Islamabad, Delhi and beyond as possible. I had made an early miscalculation in assuming that the first test would be played in Galle - something told me that this was the case so in November itself I had booked rooms at the Zimmer in Unawatuna. Unfortunately that didn’t quite pan out as planned but we went to Una anyway - and while driving up I got a text message from a friend. “watching the game or enjoying the beach?” I replied saying that I’m on the road and asked the score. “33-5 go with the latter!” Bad form. I would have loved to be in Kandy for the game but had to settle for listening to Murali breaking the record over the phone with a friend at the ground while I was at work, and also missed the best part of the final session but squeezed home to watch Mali crash through Hoggard’s awkward defense.

SSC was a huge disappointment - Islamabad meant just 2 days of watching, the first and the last, but the wicket really didn’t match the standards that the SSC usually maintains. The result was fairly dull cricket with nothing in it for the bowlers. In those two days I just saw 2 wickets - Micheal Vaughan the victim both times. So I was really looking forward to Galle despite the threat of rain and a half baked ground. I got back from Delhi on the 20th evening and drove up to Galle with a friend early the next morning to catch day 4. The weather was fabulous all the way - the sky was blue, sun was out and the sea looked super. We reached Galle at 10 and was pleasantly surprised by the ease of parking in the large Samanal park. We had no idea which stand would be the best bet so we walked around the outside till we saw the pitch and gauged which stand would overlook the bowlers arm. The ticket prices were a rip off for test cricket - Rs. 1000 is about 10 times what you’d normally pay to watch a local test match, but that’s the effect of the Barmy Army. We had picked special “enclosure B” - which was basically a bunch of chairs lined up under a makeshift tent. It was warm, there were a million suddas around us - but the view was great, we were close to the players and the atmosphere was superb. Vaughan and Cook were batting well, the latter continuing to impress after his disastrous start in Kandy.

I watched Vaughan being dismissed for the 3rd time when he flashed outside off at the impressive Chanaka Welegedara for Maiya to hold a nice one head high. A quick aside - Welegedara was superb in the first innings, specially in nailing Colly. I haven’t seen enough consistent swing from him but he has nice zip which is encouraging. At first glance he may well be a handy successor to Chaminda Vaas - and he’s already one up on Vaasy by overtaking the latter as the Lankan with the most initials (no mean feat). So heres to many more wickets for Uda Walawwe Mahim Bandaralage Chanaka Asanka Welegedara. As Vaughan fell the two of us yelled approval while the stand went quiet and one barmy soldier cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted “It’s not Twenty20 Micheal” But all in all England seemed to have learned following their shock 1st innings 81. As Cook punched Vaasy to the offside fence, the score ticked over to 82 and the English supporters stood in ironic applause. Despite being in the minority in our own country it was quite fun being amongst the Barmy Army - they were witty, chirpy and generous in their applause despite the disappointing efforts of their team. Around 11.15 it became extremely humid and I nervously looked over my shoulder to see clouds loom over the fabulous fort. It didn’t take long for it to erupt - 5 minutes before lunch and the heavens let loose their seams and rain fell by the bucket engulfing the stadium within minutes. The ground staff was fantastic and managed to cover the entire ground in no time - but it was too late. We hung around for 2 hours but the drizzles kept returning every time the staff tried to make some progress. It didn’t help that our makeshift tents were not exactly waterproof. On the bright side - extra beach time.

The sea at Unawatuna was, as is usual this time of year, lovely. Despite the lack of sun and the odd speck of rain, the water was warm, calm - and pleasantly empty. The only company we did have in the water was rather unwanted. I drifted into a shallow area and felt a sting on my right arm - it felt like some slimy worm like creature had made contact with my arm. I got out of the water to inspect my arm which promptly became inflamed in the immediate area of contact. This happened a couple more times to my leg, body and finally face. Staying away from the shallow parts helped and we headed back to shore after a couple of hours. Tilak suggested it was probably jelly fish stings - the pain eased shortly but there’s a pretty neat looking scar on my right bicep. Tea followed by early dinner was had at the Lucky Tuna - seafood platter, lucky tuna special fried rice and devilled calamari. Gorgeous. Rikaz came and asked how the food was and I said it was excellent as always, he grinned and gave a thumbs up, “Best food on the beach - in my opinion” Got to agree with the man. I love the music at the LT, there’s usually Jack Johnson, Marley, Dylan, Clapton, Chapman, the Eagles and so on in the early evening, followed by some Buddha Bar, Cafe Del Mar etc. after sunset. We spent several hours lying on the beach in front of the Tuna, star gazing and chatting before the drizzles drove us away to the shelter of the Roti shop for some Chocolate roti with Sisira before calling it a night.

The next morning we had breakfast at Tilak’s to follow a quick dip (and one more jellyfish sting) before setting off to get decent seats. The breeze was encouraging and helped keep the clouds moving. Arriving at the ground at 9.20 we got excellent seats in the same area as the previous day and settled down to watch Mali bound in to Bell to begin proceedings. The English started well and the one blemish was Prasanna’s costly lapse down leg off Cook. However SL was soon in the hunt as Murali produced a creeper that shot into middle and off under Bell’s defence. Finally I saw a dismissal other than Micheal Vaughan. KP was disappointing all series, and he never got going in this game either but was hanging in there keeping Cook company- but Murali seemed to have his number. KP was keen to dominate and he kept shuffling down to Murali to knock him passed mid on - Murali kept throwing it up and mid on was dropped a bit back. Pietersen smashed one to the long on fence but was then beaten in the air a couple of times, I saw Maiya move to short mid at the start of the over - he was waiting for KP to go for the on drive without reaching the pitch. Something had to give. Murali threw it in the air and KP chipped down, he didn’t reach the pitch and checked his drive but couldn’t keep it down - straight to Maiya who stayed low and flicked it in the air - breakthrough before lunch. It was a lovely dismissal bc there was a plan a-foot and I could just see it unfold in my mind before it actually happened. Game on.

And how. Colly came in - the last of the must get wickets. Just a few minutes before lunch and there was something in the air. Murali continued around the wicket and second ball to Colly was just a blur - he appeared to shuffle down the track and was beaten by what I guessed was a doosra - a flurry of activity as PJ whipped off the bails and charged down the wicket, fist in the air - 2 in 3 and this had to be our game. We were ecstatic - a few mins ago England looked like they would get to lunch just two down with a few clouds building up over the ocean. A nervy Bopara came in - more men crowded the bat - I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. We were seated around the long on area and by some chance had a great view of what happened next. Bopara edged it and Maiya dived to make a great save - Bopara instinctively took off for the single and Maiya flicked it back to his namesake in one motion, who whipped the bails off for the 2nd time in two balls. The way the boys celebrated we knew we’d got another one. Maiya ran half way around the ground and we had really pulled the rug under their feet. The Barmy army was crestfallen - the stand was dead silent except for the 2 of us screaming our heads off - 5 down, 5 to go - 2 sessions on a 5th day wicket. It was really great being so close to the players - Vaasy ambled down to Cook’s 3rd man and I showed him a fist urging them to finish it off, he nodded back. At lunch the humidity began to increase - a bad sign. I nervously looked over my shoulders as once again the clouds built up over the Fort - it was going to belt down soon.

Some English supporters had finally lost patience - a banner was seen on the Fort which was really uncalled for - “15 days of torture, thanks for nothing England.” The Barmy army tried to rally some support - bursting into song with “Micheal Vaughan my Lord, Micheal Vaughan…” ad infinitum, and better songs like Rule Britannia. Time flies when you’re at the ground - even the lunch break just whizzes past after a couple of hot dogs followed by pani kadju ice cream. The stands were still messy - at least the temporary enclosures that we were in, and of course there was no scoreboard as yet. But I was amazed at how much had been done in the last few weeks - that is of course after remaining idle for the best part of 3 years. There are rumours afloat that the ground will not be able to continue hosting matches due to some technicality associated with the Fort’s status as a heritage site - but I hope that is done away with and the Galle stadium continues to play host to fantastic test matches. One things that I didn’t do during this game was to watch the match from the Fort walls itself - there’s always next time.

Post lunch England started well - Prior and the impressive Cook stuck it out for about an hour when the heavens really couldn’t hold it any longer. Warnaweera walked around nervously as the groundstaff gathered around waiting to swarm in to cover the pitch. The stadium was surrounded by dark, menacing clouds - and finally it let rip. This storm was more intense than the previous days’ one and the staff took ages to cover the entire ground. Within 5 mins I knew that there wouldn’t be a result in the game. It was a bit pathetic to see England fans dancing in the rain as if they had deserved to save the game - but I guess they needed some comic relief. We hung around for about half an hour and decided to head off as soon as the rain eased. Given yesterday’s performance I was convinced there’d be no more play following that shower. Just as we were leaving the ground dejected, the sun quietly crept through. I stopped, looked at the sea and saw more clouds - screw it. The security at the gate offered an interval pass but I waved it off - “Aiyo yanna epa, meka api dinanawa, balanna thawa payakin patan gani” I smiled at his optimism but carried on. The sun looked even brighter as we got to my car. I was sad that we couldn’t finish off the match - and something deep inside said that they might play. It was too late now - we were halfway to Hikkaduwa and we didn’t have interval passes. The radio news feeds weren’t very helpful when all of a sudden, just one hour after we left, Brian Thomas comes on YES fm saying that the game has resumed! We almost turned back but then decided that it’ll probably be drawn anyway - but we kept the radio tuned - hoping for a win but at the same time scared that we’d have thrown away a great chance to watch a fabulous finish. The next report said that Cook had fallen - into the tail, game on! Maybe we can stop somewhere and watch the end. But a few minutes later the rains returned and within a short while the match had been washed out. I was selfishly relieved - but I knew that the rains were always around the corner. It was an unfortunate end to the series - and much like in 2004, 1-0 did not in any way reflect the nature of Sri Lanka’s dominance. My first Galle test was a thoroughly enjoyable experience - let’s hope the next one has more sunshine and less jellyfish.