The Lankan Roadtrip - Around Sri Lanka on a Motorbike

(This is long. So if you need to pee or feed the dog, might as well do those and start :))

4 men, 2 bikes, 1600 kilometers around the edge of Sri Lanka in 4 days. We were called insane, mental and bat shit crazy from the moment we started planning it. It had been done before. There was an article on a popular local travel site about two guys who did the same thing on two bikes and this was the source of our inspiration. However, our goal was to touch the edge of Sri Lanka as much as possible without sticking to the main highways all the time, reach the four corners of the country and come back to Colombo in one piece.

And we did. This is how.

The Preparations

I can’t ride a bike to save my soul. Not something i’m very proud of. As it turned out, i’m not alone. Prishan couldn’t either. Which meant that from the 4 of us – Myself, Prishan, Indika and Rimaz – only Indika and Rimaz could ride a bike. But even they hadn’t ridden the proposed number of kilometres even in their dreams. Rimaz was all gung-ho from the word go. It took a bit more mental persuasion to convince Indika of the same. Either he convinced himself or felt sorry for us because he never refused to do it. So that was it. The mental game was all set.

Carrying a travel bag for all four of us was not a practical. We travelled very light. So we were able pack everything into two big backpacks. The plan was for the guys in the back to carry the backpacks. Easier said than done.

Next came the most important aspect of this roadtrip - the bikes. Rimaz owned a 150cc Yamaha FZ. So we needed to find another bike with enough horsepower and stability to withstand the abuse it was about to take over the next 4 days. We asked around from a number of people. Finally we hit the jackpot with one of our ex-colleagues who had a bike that he wasn’t using – another 150cc Yamaha FZ.

Then came accommodation. We had to find cheap accommodation for 3 nights. A colleague in office set us up with a place in Jaffna town for the first night and Rimaz was able to find a place in Kalkudah for the second night. We didn’t really worry about the 3^rd night since that was going to be in the south of Sri Lanka – we could ride and find a guest house. All that was left now was to get on the bike and ride!

Day one – Colombo to Jaffna

We met up in Nawala at our workplace at 4.30 am. Took a preliminary photo for good measure with all 6 of

us (The bikes were our friends) and got on the bikes. The itinerary was to ride to Jaffna on the route shown in the map.

We got on to Elakanda Road from Wattala and rode till we reached Negombo. It was still very early morning so there was absolutely no light. All we could see was the rippling waters of the Hamilton Canal as the last beams of streetlights fell on the slow moving ripples. The road was excellently done so we felt little or no vibrations on the pillion. Things were looking pretty good.

We reached Negombo at about 6am and turned the bikes into a mosque a little away from the heart of the town for Rimaz’ morning prayers. Talk about breakfast came about at this time and we unanimously agreed to cover as much ground as possible before the morning traffic built up. It was a Thursday. Other people had to go to work.

From Negombo we turned on into its most famous road – Beach Road. Travelling along this road leaves one in no doubt as to the biggest revenue stream of the city. Tourism in Negombo is always in season come rain or shine. The days we travelled were particularly cloudy with chances of rain. But still, the sheer number of white people trying to get a piece of the Negombo sun was amazing. The street was slowly waking up as we passed through it.

We took a turn to the left from the Poruthota mosque to join the Puttalam highway again. There was no road going straight through and all roads led back to the highway. So we thought why take a risk and took the biggest road to the highway. We continued on the highway for a couple kilometres more until we crossed the Gin Oya bridge. We made a brief detour to the Gin Oya damn since that used to be Rimaz’s old haunt in his telecommunication days. The fourth turn to the left from the Gin Oya bridge led us straight back to Beach Road.

Now this section of the Beach Road was unfamiliar to me. I’m sure i had been on this before at some point in my life, but definitely not in the recent past. The sleepy seaside town stretched right onto Marawila. The streets were laden with freshly caught fish and sea produce with fishermen shouting their wares to all and sundry. The street was bustling with activity as we carefully manoeuvred our way around the fishermen and the eager customers. This was not a town to piss anyone off - especially with the number of machetes lying around.

Past the endless shrimp and prawn hatcheries, we came across an old shipwreck right on the shoreline of the

Marawila beach. I’m assuming it’s more like a fishing trawler. Its rusted body and seawater spray was a sight for our sore eyes. This for me, was the indication that the adventure started. We stopped for a bit to click some pics and got on the bikes again to continue on our merry way.

The stretch from Marawila to Kudamaduwella runs across a man made causeway built right on the sea. This led us to the Chilaw Police Station. This also meant breakfast. We rode into the town and stopped at a small hotel to have some breakfast. String hoppers, bread, dhal and chicken curry with a dish of pol sambol was the order of the morning (Yes. I’m a sadist). Without wasting much time in Chilaw, we ate as quickly as possible and got back on our bikes.

We continued on the Puttalam highway for a few more kilometres until we reached the turnoff to Uduppidy. This was the first available road to get back to the edge of the country as soon as possible. There was a very slight drizzle at this point. We weren’t too concerned and as expected, it passed over in 5 to 10 minutes.

Uduppidy is a little remote town that defies explanation. It’s remote, yet bustling. Rural yet equipped. The little town had an air of authority of its own that I had never seen before. Barring the fact that I had never been here before, the town provided the perfect contrast to what we’ve grown to expect from normal civilization. It’s apparent that the town was a very close knit community and we seemed to provide the amusement for the day. Especially Indika who was at the front dressed like a Black Stig from Top Gear. We passed through the eerily beautiful yellow/golden kovil and continued on our way to Puttalam.

Google Maps is a wonderful thing. And one thing we must admire is the 3G and above reception right along the coast line of Sri Lanka. We were able to plot out a number of byroads between the sea and the main Puttalam highway to reach the Palavi-Kalpitiya road. We passed through some villages that I had never heard of before and some villages which probably hadn’t seen a motorbike in some time. However, closer to the Palavi-Kalpitiya main road the civilization became thicker and we came across a bike mechanic. Indika’s bike chain needed some break tightening and greasing. We attended to these before the mechanic pointed us in the right direction to the main highway. We were back on the highway before we knew it and on our way to touch the first corner of the country.

We rode along the Kalpitiya highway until we reached Kandakulli. From here we took a left turn to go visit the westernmost point of Sri Lanka on the main land. We couldn’t exactly reach the sea itself since there was an Army camp built right on the beach. But that was a trivial. We parked our bikes and took a picture to eternalize this occasion (I’m pretty dramatic). Kandakulli – The westernmost point of Sri Lanka, DONE!

We came back on the same highway and reached Puttalam. The time was past 1.30 pm and we had a pressing time concern now. The entrance gate to the Wilpattu – Mannar road closed at 3.30pm. So it was of paramount importance that we reach Puttalam as soon as possible. We decided to skip lunch and grab a bite once we’re out of Wilpattu. So we rode the 30 odd kilometres from Puttalam to the Wilpattu entrance gate without stopping.

This is where we hit our first snag. We were told by the military personnel at the gate that the road was closed temporarily. Apparently the road had taken some serious abuse in the recent rains and was extremely dangerous to tackle. The rain was slowly coming in even at that particular time. We explained to the military personnel of our objective. They finally agreed to let us though on a number of conditions which are beyond the scope of this blog post ;). I doubt they would’ve let us through if we had been on any other vehicle other than two bikes. And they were spot on about the road. It looked like an advanced version of the Katukurunda dirt bike track. The rain had left the dirt road covered in slippery mud from top to bottom and the bikes were finding it very very hard to stay upright. Indika’s bike slipped from right under his legs once and toppled onto the ground. Rimaz’s bike tilted dangerously close to

the ground and needed the strength of 3 guys to straighten up. Prishan and I got down from the bikes and walked certain stretches of road behind the bikes since the bikes weren’t able to handle the load on that kind of terrain. It was very slow going and was dangerous. In the end, we were extremely tired, hungry and the bikes had undergone a considerable bit of abuse. The weather was turning for the worse and the terrain was completely against us. Had we come in any other vehicle, we wouldn’t have been able to come out from the other side. But the point is, we did not deviate from the course. We made it to Mannar through the edge of Sri Lanka.

As soon as we were out of the wilderness, we had a very late lunch from the first available hotel and sped through (safely) to Mannar. At least we sped as much as possible given the condition of the road in most stretches. We stayed on the mainland and did not go into Mannar Island since we were way out of our schedule and still had close to a 200 kilometers to cover before we reached Jaffna.

This is when the going got very slow. Riding at night is difficult by default. And the condition of the road on many stretches weren’t helping either. Our rear ends were starting to hurt. This is no joyride on a 4 Wheel Drive. The two bikes and its riders were exposed completely to the elements and physical wear and tear was beginning to set in. In addition to shooting rain drops hitting our eyes, we had to deal with bugs on the road which were also hitting our face. We couldn’t put the visors of our helmets down because that would

decrease visibility. So the going was slow and tough. But common sense prevailed and we knew that getting to Jaffna in one piece should be the primary focus.

This is also when the rain gods decide to have a party. All this time we were riding under more than a slight drizzle. Past Pooneryn and on the way to Chavakachcheri, the rain came down in all its might. It was absolutely relentless. The drops were hitting us horizontally and fast, right in the eyes. We stopped sporadically for long periods of time collectively to shield ourselves from the rain. But there was no escape. So we decided to cover up our dry backpacks as much as we can and brave the rain. Finally, believe it or not, it was 4am when we reached our little guest house in Jaffna. 4am! That meant we’ve been riding for 24 hours at a stretch. Props to Rimaz and Indika for handling that so well. We walked into the guest house absolutely drenched, soaking right into our underwear and extremely tired. We had ridden just over 500 kilometers in one day. But we went to sleep with the content knowledge that the first leg our journey was successfully done. Tomorrow is a brand new day.

Day 2: Jaffna to Kalkudah

We started late. We had to. After turning in past 4am, we just couldn’t get ourselves to get up by 8am. So it was 9am by the time we all woke up and almost 10 when we left the guest house to start the second leg our journey.

But first things first. After the abuse that the two bikes took in Wilpaththu the day before, they needed to be pampered and taken care of. There was a guy down Old Park Road who knew his onions when it came to bikes. So we put the bikes in for a quick service. After that was complete, we rode to the iconic Nallur Kovil to take a commemorative picture and got back on the seats to continue our ride. We stuck to the mainland when going around the Northern Province and therefore had to give a miss to Kayts and the other connected islands. We rode on the Jaffna – Ponnalai – Point Pedro road. We went through Ponnalai, Naguleswaram Kovil, Keerimalai, Valvetithurai and onto the next big milestone on our itinerary. Prishan and I came to Point Pedro – the northernmost point in Sri Lanka once before last year. However, a round trip around Sri Lanka will not be complete without touching on the famous Kodi Gaha at Point Pedro. The weather had turned for the better that morning. We parked our bikes on the road, went to the Kodi Gaha and took some pictures for our albums. After spending about a half hour so there, we got back on the bikes and made our way towards Parantan through Varany.

By now, we were inclined to take more and more breaks since our backsides were giving us unimaginable discomfort. I must’ve devised a 100 new ways to travel on the pillion on this bike ride only. Once in Parantan, we took the left turn towards the Parantan-Mullativu highway. We rode through some absolutely breathtaking scenery and civilizations. One thing that’s really apparent is the value of the Tamil language when travelling in the North and East. The speaking language, the notices, the boards and pretty much everything is in Tamil. Thankfully Rimaz was fluent in it. But even he was saying that the dialect is somewhat incomprehensible.

By about 3.30 pm or 4.00, we made our way over the Mullativu bridge and onto the town. Rain seems to have something against us. When the rain decided to pour down again, we quickly scrambled into a vacant bus halt of sorts and planned out the rest of our day. It was past 3pm. Thanks to yesterday’s clock buster ride, we were getting hungry only now. So the first thing was to get some food in our bellies. We pulled into a nearby hotel which was blasting Sinhala bus songs in full volume (Surprise surprise!), filled ourselves with some hot paratas and a couple of plain teas and got ready for the next leg. Just as we had anticipated, the hotel owner confirmed that there was a by road cutting through Weli Oya which we can use to get on to the Pulmoddai road. Had we taken the highways it would’ve cost us 150 Kms and we would’ve had to go inland. This road, if we get our navigation right could save us almost a 100kms and keep us as close to the edge as geographically possible. When on two bikes under an overcast sky, a 100 kms is as good as 500. So we continued on the Mulativu – Kokkilai highway, cut across to Weli Oya and continued on – relying on Google Maps and the information we received. Sure enough, the shortcut was there. The area is frequented by military posts and military personnel and there was a rural bus going towards Pulmoddai as well. Darkness had fallen by now. We did pretty good time on some very bumpy roads and ended up on the Pulmoddai road. The only snag we faced was crossing a slightly inundated concrete bridge. Prishan and I waded through the ankle high water while the bikes carefully navigated through.

This left us with 61 kilometers to get to Trincomalee and 100 kilometers from there to our guest house in Kalkudah. Given the amount of fatigue we were under the day before, we were in pretty high spirits although we knew for sure that it would be past midnight by the time we get to Kalkudah. But the good news was the rain had almost completely ceased. So we capitalized on this window of dryness and made good time to Trincomalee. We took care of some more paratas and downed a plain tea at the busiest night kade in Trinco. One thing that kind of took me by surprise was the low temperature even in this dry zone. The burning hot plain teas went in like soft drinks with no difficulty.

Once refreshed, we got back on the saddles and rode through night time Eastern Sri Lanka though Mutur, Vakarai and finally reached Kalkudah. There were no clubs, no movie theatres, no hangout places, nothing. It makes you wonder what people in these areas do for leisure. I can’t remember the exact time, but we rode into Kalkudah, past 12 midnight. And as seems to be the routine now, we hung our wet socks to dry outside our room. The clothes had escaped the rain thankfully. So after freshening up, we settled in – content that Day 2 and 50% of our journey is now complete.

Day 3 – Kalkudah to Ambalanthota

Is there a profession somewhere for professional butt massaging? I mean the real deal. Not the kind you get

in porn. We definitely could have used one in Kalkudah had that been available. My rear end was practically sending me text messages asking what it had done to deserve another 15 hours on a bike. But then again, if it was easy, everyone will do it.

We checked out of our guest house and rode 5 minutes into Valachchennai town to get some bike servicing done. Indika, with his dirt bike armour was drawing a lot of attention. My Tamil is limited to words that cannot be spoken in public. But even i could sense that we’ve created a bit of a sensation. A few more paratas and some plain teas later, we rode into the service station amidst the watchful eye of local young ones who were obviously discussing our bikes (At least I hoped so). 

An oil change and a chain tightening later, we got on our bikes to head towards our next destination which was only 5 minutes or so away - the famous and iconic Passikudah beach. I had never been there before. So what I saw was pretty amazing. Under overcast conditions, the white beach looked as if it was a photograph from one of those travel magazines. The beach was very clean. I suppose most of the beach being private contributes to that. We didn't have a dip in the sea, but just walked around on the beach for about 15 to 20 minutes and got back on our bikes again. We will come here again on another day.

Our next key milestone was Batticaloa. The change in culture became immediately visible. Now we're riding through some pro Islam communities. Batticaloa, Kattankudy, Akkaraipattu are all predominantly inhabited by Muslim citizens. However, Tamil was still the primary spoken language.

There weren't really a lot of attractions on the way in the East of Sri Lanka. At least, not many that we could find along the road that we were travelling on. However, the highway between Batticaloa to Pottuvil is absolutely to die for. After the bumpy, muddy, gravel roads we went on during the first day, this highway came as a breath of fresh air. The A4 highway, starting from Batticaloa and ending in Colombo is Sri Lanka's longest highway and in my view the best one too. The road ran through some picturesque greenery and vegetation and was perfectly built. If we, riding on bikes, felt this comfortable I can imagine how comfortable it must be to drive on 4 wheels.

The next place to touch on was the Eastern most point in Sri Lanka - the beach at Sangaman Kanda. Sangaman Kanda is not a mountain as I initially thought. It is a town with by roads leading to little villages surviving on what appears to be harsh dry zone climate. Before we reached the Pottuvil town, we turned left towards the rural areas of Sangaman Kanda on the eastern beach to visit the eastern most point in Sri Lanka. We drove through some thin forestry which housed everything from pigs, roosters to majestic peacocks. The road came to an end before we reached the Sangaman point. So we parked our bikes on a nearby tree, hid our helmets behind some shrubbery and hiked the rest of the way across the sea sand to the beach. What a contrast! Never have I seen a beach so absolutely deserted. No people, no vendors, no fishermen, no buildings, no nothing. The beach is as clean as you can get. White-ish soft sand stretching for miles and miles on both sides with no signs of life. This is the easternmost point in Sri Lanka. We took our usual commemorative picture, made our way back to the bikes as quickly as possible (We weren't sure if the bikes would still be there) and started our journey back to Pottuvil. It was past 4pm when we got back on to the main highway.

We continued down the A4 highway although it didn’t exactly take us on a perfect round across Sri Lanka. We didn't attempt to go through Yala Block II because it’s nearly impossible to tackle with bikes. Plus, even if you obtain permits from the Department of Wildlife Conservation, you are required to tackle the track in a 4x4. Even then, there was no complete track from top to bottom even for a 4x4. So that part of the edge of Sri Lanka was not even in the plan from the outset. We stuck to our planned route and continued on the A4.

When we started this ride, we all wanted to take one picture that defined our entire ride.  We had the picture setup in our head and we unanimously decided that the location should be the little bit of highway running through the Lahugala Sanctuary. From our current location we still had to ride about 25 to 30 kilometers to get to Lahugala and the sun was setting fast. So our two trusted riders did the equivalent of 'pedal to the metal' to get ourselves into Lahugala on time. We had a brief stop at Pottuvil to grab a bite and a plain tea and continued on our journey.

The sun was just about to start setting when we reached the perfect picture point in Lahugala for our iconic

photo. We were lucky. There were very few vehicles on the road. We parked the two bikes blocking the road, used Prishan's helmet as a makeshift tripod, put the camera on self timer and took the picture. This is the picture you see on the home page on this blog. This is the picture which will carry a lot of stories to our grand kids.

Picture taken, we got ready for the next 180 kilometers that we now had to go through to get to our guest house in Ambalanthota. The traits of civilization changed obviously from Muslim households and populations to Sinhala. We passed Siyambalanduwa and made good time to Moneragala. The one thing that kept us at a discomfort was the shape of the road. There was a bend at almost every 50 meters for most of the route. Considering this, we still made pretty good time

In Moneragala we had a pre-dinner. Our body clocks must've been immensely confused. Given the times we ate at and slept at, they must've thought we were in Australia. We spoke to the hotel owner and he warned us to be a bit careful when travelling from Buttala to Kataragama. The route went through Lunugamwehera and Yala sanctuaries and that time of the night is notorious for Elephants on the main road. He assured us the animals are tame and are used to human circulation. We were also asked to travel with headlights on to spot the animals on the road and to calmly stop the bike and wait patiently till the Elephant (if any) crossed the path.

We pondered amongst ourselves if we should take this route in the first place. We had the option of the longer route through Wellawaya which was also more towards in land. We finally agreed on sticking to the route we planned and to take the B35 through Yala-Lunugamwehera. We rode to the edge of Yala and took a break. We had no chance to stop for a break for the next 23 Kms. Our next stop had to be in Kataragama for pure safety reasons.

We got on the bikes and started the engines to complete this next phase. Needless to say we were all more than a bit nervous. However, we found comfort in the knowledge that we were not alone. We saw a couple of vehicles coming back from the road we were about to take. It’s a main road after all. Maybe we were being a bit too paranoid.

I shall remember this stretch of the trip for the rest of my life. The time was around 8.30 pm. The first 6 or 7 kilometers had sprinkles of civilization. There were occasional houses with electricity and the occasional local man clad in a sarong going home after farming. I remember growing in confidence and letting my nerves rest gradually as the kilometers burned out between our wheels. Needless to say i was watching the odometer from the pillion all the time.

8 kilometers in and all signs of civilization disappeared. It was pitch black all around us with only the sound of our two bikes riding side by side for company. The only source of light came from our headlights. This is when our nerves began to build up again. Although we were on two bikes I could feel the tension engulfing all four of us. And then all of a sudden Rimaz's headlight caught a moving figure. It took a split second for us to grasp that this was indeed an elephant on the pitch black road. We slowed our pace down. But before we could even think of what to do next, the elephant dutifully walked away from the road and into the bordering bushes. 

Adrenaline rushing, all our senses came to full life. We were on full alert to spot any more elephants on the

road. This is when we spotted some small lights flickering in the distance. My immediate guess was a bunch of fireflies. We slowed down just in time to realize that was FAR from the case. A massive heard of water buffaloes had come onto the road and now they were right upon us. We almost came to a complete halt and maneuvered the bikes as skillfully as possible between the buffaloes, hoping we wouldn’t excite them too much. I once read somewhere that the most dangerous animal in Yala for a human is not the Elephant, but the buffalo. As the bikes practically walked through the buffaloes, our senses could feel the sheer life of the heard surrounding us. The smell, the glistening skin, the sound of their bated breath made seconds feel like an eternity. Finally we managed to ride through them and escape to open road. Rimaz was pretty agitated. Every kilometer he was asking me 'Thawa keeyada? Thawa keeyada?'. As soon as we were about to exit the forest, we met two more elephants. But we spotted them from a distance and they too exited into the forest before we came too close.

10 minutes later, we saw the first couple of houses at the edge of the forest. The sight of civilization after that ordeal just cannot be explained. We were relieved beyond measure and rode to Kataragama to take our first break in what seemed like an eternity. That was easily one of the most exhilarating half hours ever. A point to note is that this is not as dangerous as I make it out to be in normal circumstances. But the timing made all the difference. This wouldn't have been as half as exhilarating if we had done this at 10 am. But 9 pm made all the difference. The animals being black didn't help matters either.

After regaining our wits, we rode uneventfully to Ambalanthota. We rode through Sri Lanka's next capital city and its many forays into modernization. The Hambanthota highway map looks like a little piece of Dubai. So much so that we had to check our map several times to see if we were on our way to Ambalanthota.

We checked in past 12 (again) to our guest house. Day 3 is done. We've covered 75% of the original route. Final day is upon us. With happier thoughts, we laid our heads down to rest.

Day 4: Ambalanthota to Colombo

As seems to be the pattern now, we woke up at about 9 am. We were by instinct taking it easy since we knew that the distance we had to cover was relatively short (less than 250 kms). The good news was that the bikes were in very good shape. So with that time saved, we went to the Ambalanthota junction to have breakfast. The bad news is, my read end was about to go on strike. 

After a non-parata breakfast, we got on the bikes to visit the final corner to be reached - Dondra Head. I've never been to Dondra Head before although i've gone past it countless times. And neither had anyone else if I remember correctly.

The traffic was unbelievable terrible. I suppose with Matara being one of the busiest cities in the South, this was to be expected. I soon began to miss the joys of riding on vacant and open roads in the North and East. The buses and the tuk tuks seemed to follow their own rules as they do in Colombo. But this was part of the package. So we patiently navigated to Dikwella where we stopped to have some king coconut to refresh ourselves. By about 1.30 pm we were able to reach Dondra Head and the iconic lighthouse at the Southern most point of Sri Lanka. Unlike Sangaman Kanda, Dondra Head is a popular tourist destination especially with the locals. We snapped a couple of pictures for our albums dutifully, walked among the cool sea water for about 20 minutes and got back on the bikes for the home stretch.

We stopped only a couple of times afterwards till we reached Colombo. We were just excited to reach Colombo and complete the full circle. We passed through Matara, Weligama, Galle, Benthota, Kalutara, Panadura and finally reached Colombo. We reached our workplace in Nawala at about 8.30 pm. Needless to say we were ecstatic at what we had just achieved.

Around the edge of Sri Lanka in 4 days covering all 4 corners and 1600 kilometers. And on two motor bikes. That's something all four of us will be proud of till the day we die.

On a closing note, if you plan to do this trip, please don't take this blog post as the gospel truth. I cannot condone or recommend some methods that we used as appropriate. Riding for 24 hours at a stretch and riding so late into the night is far from the recommended practice. We might even agree with some folk who will say that we were fools to attempt the Yala stretch that late in the night. This is merely a collation of how our hours passed. Best to be objective and plan your own trip according to your strengths and weaknesses.

We must place on record our gratitude to Shamitha Peiris - an ex colleague for lending us his bike. And to everyone else who supported us by lending helmets, jackets etc.

And to everyone else who said we couldn’t do this on a motorbike – Thank you! You made it possible J

I can be contacted on ceylontripper@gmail.com. More pictures can be found on my Flickr profile right here.

Until the next time then,

Miranga

Read More

Kirigalpotta - Kings of the Night Mail

Rockland Old Arrack can do wonderful things. Over two bottles of premium Sri Lankan liquid, we planned a hike to Sri Lanka’s second highest mountain – Kirigalpotta, on one fine evening in October. Surprisingly, come morning, we were still able to recollect the trip plans and were still brazen enough to attempt it the week after. This speaks more about Sri Lankan alcohol than it does of our passion for the great outdoors.

We concluded the hike to Kirigalpotta a couple of weeks ago. So thankfully, each detail is still very vivid in memory unlike in my previous posts. So if I ramble on like a Sunil Gavaskar on Sachin Tendulkar, skip to the last parts of this post.

The planning

Unlike the previous times, Prishan, Indika and I had some initial logistics to iron out. First, we had to get a

camping permit from the Department of Wildlife Conservation. The trail to Kirigalpotta starts from inside

Horton Plains and you are not allowed to camp at the summit. So you need to come down and camp at one of the 3 campsites at Horton Plains. A permit for an overnight camping stay costs just over 2500/- bucks. But you also need to have luck on your side. Only one party is allowed at a camping site. And we were lucky.  

Next came the route mapping. We had two options. We could have taken the Night Mail to Badulla and gotten off at Pattipola or we could’ve gotten off at Ohiya. Either way, we had about 10 Kms from each station to the World’s End entrance / Visitor’s Centre at Horton Plains. We chose the Ohiya route since it was a kilometre or two lesser than from Pattipola.

The journey

My girlfriend offered to entertain our spirit for the outdoors and did her part by dropping us at the Fort train station. Our plan was to take the 8pm Night Mail train leaving to Badulla. However, it was a Friday and getting a seat to plant our backsides on was absolutely impossible. Another commuter facing our same plight enlightened us to the fact that the train usually gets filled up at the Maradana station itself. I’m not sure about the accuracy of this piece of information but judging by the immediate circumstances, he couldn’t have been that far off.

It was an uncomfortable journey in the 3^rd class box which was packed to the rafters with people going home for the weekend. However, by the time we reached Kadugannawa, we managed to muscle out a couple of seats and by Nawalapitiya there were a few empty spots here and there for the taking. We tried our best to dose off with partial success.

We reached Ohiya at about 4am. It was bitterly cold and I felt as if my teeth had developed an entire nervous system of its own. We filled our bottles of water at the station and got ready for the long trek to the World’s End entrance. 10 kilometers is not easy. Especially at that altitude since our lungs are not used to lessened oxygen in the air. But this was Ohiya – our ‘hood’ so to speak. So we trudged along like champions.

The ‘batta’ ride

A couple of kilometres into the trek and a Dimo Batta pulls up behind us and offered a ride. He was a

professional transporter who transports groups to and from Horton Plains and was on the way to pick up a group from the Horton Plains Visitor’s Centre. We hitched a ride with him after negotiating a small sum of cash.

This was when we got our first taste of what’s to come. The ride was rocky and the driver seemed to have been a dropout from pilot school. He manoeuvred the small and flimsy vehicle precariously close to the road edges at breakneck speed. However the view that we saw during these 20 minutes or so was just mind blowing. The sun was just starting to rise over the mountainside and the first rays of the morning enveloped us with its golden beauty. The Plains itself seemed to magically wake up and transform colour under this beautiful light – waking up animals, tress and other living beings to another beautiful day at Horton Plains.

Once at the Visitor’s Centre, we had a quick breakfast from the tinned food that we brought along with us. At this time of the day, Horton Plains simply beckons for a photo shoot. And we gladly obliged.

After an extended photo session, we walked towards the Visitor’s Centre to produce our permit. You don’t need to buy day passes to Horton Plains if you’ve already got a camping permit. Make sure that you carry no plastic items since they will all be confiscated or removed at the park entry point. Another point you should keep in mind is that campfires are not allowed at Horton Plains. You need to carry a small gas stove or an equivalent if you plan to cook food or stay warm.

The trail

Of all the hikes we’ve done in this area, this hike proved to be the one hike which was done in picture perfect weather. The sun was out in all its glory. The skies were absolutely clear and there was not a hint of mist or wind. It was like doing a hike in Colombo with the only difference being the drop in temperature. The trail is clearly marked and directed. It starts from behind the Horton Plains Visitor’s Centre. We started the

hike at around 7am. It was an amazing treat to the senses. The morning dew, the smells and sounds of the plains and the breathtaking scenery around us made us thank the two bottle of Rockland Old Arrack from days ago.

The first part of the trail runs through the plains itself. The trail is pretty flat and is not tiring in the least. After about half an hour of hiking you will come across a stream that is about 10 to 15 feet wide. This is the start of Belihul Oya – one of the 4 major rivers in this country. We dropped our bags, freshened ourselves up and had some refreshments before getting back on our feet.

Once you cross the stream, the trail winds into a thick dense forest. Before you reach the forest you need to navigate through some dead trees and short bamboo. We were able to navigate this part of the trail without much fuss.

At this point our luck turned for the better. ‘Nelu’ is a range of seasonal flowers which is said to be indigenous to the Horton Plains region. We were smack in the middle of the blooming season and the sight of pretty pink, purple and blue flowers stretched for as far as the eye could see through the trail in front of us. It was like we were transported to the set of a fantasy movie. After coming back to Colombo we found out that this is the first time in 12 years that Horton Plains had seen such a strident ‘Nelu’ season.

Once we navigated through the forest we reached a relatively open area at which we again dropped our sacks and had some refreshments. We took stock of the scenery around us and were able to see around 5 or 6 mountain ranges one after the other in the distance thanks to the lack of mist. This also made us realize that we were at a very very very high place at the time - literally and metaphorically.

The summit

The final push was now upon us. The scenery reduced in quality and the ascent grew harder. We lugged our

massive backpacks and manoeuvred through thick undergrowth, rocks and precarious edges to reach a vantage point we had researched about before we go. This was supposed to be the best observation point at Kirigalpotta. And it did not disappoint. Our view was undisturbed for MILES AND MILES on a minimum 270 degree circle. We were at a rocky landing just below the summit and the drop below us at this point was easily close to ninety degrees. We lied flat on the ground and carefully peered over the edge. The drop was just massive. But the view was nothing short of sensational. I’ve never seen anything of the sort before. But of course, we were very careful since there was no room for complacency.

A hundred meters more and we would be at the second highest place in Sri Lanka. But getting there was not easy. The only feasible way to reach the summit was to navigate a rocky ledge which had just enough foot space if we kept one foot in front of the other. And the undergrowth on the left of the ledge seemed strong and well rooted enough to be used as a guardrail. We debated a bit amongst ourselves to assess whether it was worth the risk. There was absolutely no wind, the plants seemed strong and we were in pretty good shape. Furthermore, we had the opportunity to leave our sacks and tents on the ledge we were currently on. Not like anyone’s going to come and steal them.

Prishan went first. Indika and I followed and slowly but surely, we went to the very top. The feeling was unexplainable. The view was not as great as from the ledge below. But the elevation was enough cause for celebration. We spent about 15 minutes at the top, chilling and taking in the scenery. Then we commenced our precarious descent back to the Visitor’s Center.

The Bees - aka f***ing party poopers

Our luck was so good that it was bound to turn at some point. And it did when on our way back. While we were lucky to see the beautiful bloom of Nelu flowers in perfect weather conditions, it also brought about an inherent risk that we didn’t account for – Honey bees.

While on our way up, we did hear the ominous buzz of bees that were collecting pollen from the newly

bloomed Nelu flowers. At times the buzz grew louder and I was feeling a little uneasy all throughout. But we figured that if we walked silently and made no sudden sounds, we should be able to go through safely. And it worked on the way up. So we adopted the same principle on our way back.

However, this is when we found out that there was a flaw in our approach. Obviously being silent and discreet is not enough to satisfy the queen bee and her henchmen that they’re safe from human invasion. We were walking in single file through the Nelu forest. Prishan at the front, myself in middle and Indika bringing up the rear – when suddenly I heard a multitude of loud bee sounds right in my ear.

At first I just heard the very loud buzz and a split second later, I felt it. I don’t know how many, but a group of bees stung me on my neck. Instinctively I flayed my arms all over and covered my face while shouting a warning to Prishan and Indika. But the buzz kept getting stronger and the stings kept getting faster. By now my entire back and neck area was under attack. We tried to brush them off and continue on the hike but that proved to be futile. Finally Indika suggested that we make a run for it. There was no time to weigh in the risks or the difficulty of such an action. There was so much more to go and the end of the forest was also somewhat distant. We took a split second to hitch up our gear and made an absolute complete mad dash for the exit from this bee infested forest. Mind you, we were not in the best of physical shape by this time. The backpacks were heavy and were weighing us down considerably. But the love of life and the reluctance to have our cause of death etched as ‘stung to death by bees’ on our gravestones gave us new found adrenaline. We panted, shouted, fumbled in the mud and ran for dear lives. At one point my foot got completely entrenched in a strong blob of mud and I couldn’t take my foot out. The bees seemed to realise that I was unable to move and caught up to unleash their finest stings. I remember shouting out some of the choicest words in my vocabulary through sheer pain, anger and fear. I tossed my camera to Prishan, removed my foot off my shoe, took the shoe out of the mud and forced my foot back into the shoe – all the time being stung by angry bees.

We reached the end of the first stretch of the forest and came to the plains. I don’t know what we did to anger the bees so much so that they felt that adequate retribution was not unleashed yet on the three of us. They circled and stung us all along the plains as well. At this point I removed my T shirt and started waving it around like a South American footballer who just scored the winning goal. This was a win-lose approach. I was able to swat away some of them, but it left my body exposed to more and more bee stings. Then somehow, this image of 13 cricketers and two umpires lying flat along the ground while a sea of bees flew above them came into my mind (Thanks ESPN!). Immediately I shouted the instruction to Prishan and Indika and laid flat across the ground. They followed suit.That didn’t work either. The bees found it easier to move down on the stationery figures lying down on the ground – and I still I had my t-shirt off. Eventually we said ‘F*** this! Let’s make a run for it!’

I managed to put my T-shirt back on and we ran. We ran and ran and ran until we could run no more. Then it seemed that we had actually outrun the bees. We had to sacrifice all our energy reserves in the process – but we were safe and alive.

By now we had almost reached the Belihul Oya stream that we crossed on our way up. We paused for a moment to get our bearings and breath back. The backpack seemed heavier than ever and my legs were killing me. Muscles that I never knew existed were screaming for attention. Add to that the little boils that were popping up all over our bodies and we looked as if we just made a run for freedom from Alcatraz. It took us four hours to get to the top. We came down in one and a half.

Without dwelling on the incident further, we mustered up the little strength we had and made our way to the Visitor’s Centre. Once at the Visitor’s Centre, we took stock of our damage. Prishan took out a couple of stingers from my skin and Indika took out about 20 stingers from his T Shirt. Thankfully we were fully clothed at the time with very little skin exposed. For a good 10 minutes or so we just sat and recounted what just happened and we all agreed that we had a lucky break. They were Honey bees – not the Wasps that kill people in Sigiriya. But nevertheless that was not pleasant. I’m blogging two weeks after the incident. The boils have almost disappeared and we’ve had absolutely no side effects. To this day we don’t know what made the bees believe we were Americans trying to take over their hive. But it’s a thing of the past now and an experience of a lifetime. (Man! Do we have some good stories for our grand kids!)

The campsite

After sufficient recovery, we gathered our belongings and made our way to the World’s End entrance gate. We got the permit to camp in Campsite 2 and it was about a kilometre up the World’s End trail. Nature has

a way of paying back what it takes from us. So we were elated to find out that our Campsite was right beside the renowned Chimney Pool – a branch of Belihul Oya which has been designed by engineers to form a combination of a small waterfall/pool. The time must’ve been just past 3pm or so. No better time to shun our clothes and dip into the ice cool waters of Belihul Oya. Now that was certainly refreshing. I, the one who normally cannot stand cold water was unable to make up my mind to come out of the pool. It was that good.

Evening came. Still no mist and we were pretty pleased about it. The lack of mist meant that our visibility was increased many fold and that allowed us to take in the breathtaking landscape that we have now become addicted to. We pitched up our tent and settled into rest and relax. Our bodies needed it after the eventful afternoon.

As night fell we were rested and back to our usual spirits. But as usual, the nights at this elevation turn very chilly very fast. We zipped ourselves inside our tent and had some dinner. Then we had an enjoyable chat till we all felt sleepy enough. At one point we heard a noise outside our tent. So we opened up one side – torches in hand.

And there it was. The most beautiful night sky I had seen in a long long time. We were on Horton Plains – no buildings or massive structures around us. Just the plain flat land. So you can imagine the amount of sky that we were able to see. We saw the ENTIRE sky at 360 degrees, riddled with pearl like glowing stars strewn haphazardly across a black blanket. The North Star shone bright and shiny right above and in front of us. At that point I realised how lucky some of us are to be able to witness the amazing artistry that nature has to offer and how some of us spend our entire years not realising what they’re missing by never going outdoors.

The return

Apart from the occasional sound of an Elk very close to our tent the night was uneventful. We woke up at about 5.30 in the morning. The journey back is long. 11 kilometers to Pattipola to catch the 11.30 or 1 pm train back to Colombo. So we packed up fast and walked back to the Visitor’s Centre. We downed a hot plain tea from the canteen, had some breakfast that we brought along and at about 8 am started the trek back to Pattipola on the World’s End – Pattipola road.

We initially had plans to summit Thotupala Kanda as well. It was a pretty short and easy hike from the road we were on and we could still be back in time to catch the 1 pm train. We reached the turnoff to Thotupala Kanda and we could see the beautiful Nelu flowers lining the little trail on both sides. For some reason, I saw an uncanny resemblance in this image to the scenes of ‘The Last Samurai’. It was that beautiful. But as the age old saying goes ‘Once bitten, twice shy’. Literally that made sense. We could hear the faint buzz of the honey bees in the distance. We decided to skip Thotupala Kanda for another day and continued on our way to the station uneventfully.

And thus ended one of the most memorable hikes we’ve ever done. Bee attack or not, our love for nature and hiking was cemented even stronger and we hope to do another one before much time elapses. Pictures of this hike can be found on my Flickr profile right here or on Prishan’sFlickr profile here. I can be reached on ceylontripper@gmail.com  if you need more info on anything relevant.

Until the next time then.

Travel well, travel safe

Read More

Scaling Bambarakanda and Devil's Staircase

This post is long overdue. However, better late than never

Prishan and I since of long had made futile plans to hike to the top of the highest waterfall in Sri Lanka - Bambarakanda Falls. These plans finally materialized and along with another colleague named Indika, we finally set off on fulfilling this dream.

The more we do hikes across the country, the more we realize how much better our public transport system could be. It was the middle of June and as always we settled on taking a Kandy or Badulla bound bus from Pettah to get off at Kalupahana. Yet again, we had to battle to get on the bus; there is absolutely no governance in early morning Pettah when it comes to bus queues. People who've stayed in queue for well over two hours (read: us), have to fight as if they were on the set of the movie 300 to get on the bus before the non-queue members. However, finally we did get on the bus albeit a bit late and that messed up our schedule a bit. So it was well past 11 when we finally got down at Kalupahana.

The name of the halt is Kalupahana. So make sure you get down from there. Once you do, you will see there is a not-so-wide road going up the mountain in the opposite direction to where you came from. This is where you start the hike. When I first turned back to start the hike, I knew this was going to be a good one. The scenery in the background was absolutely breathtaking and simply beckoned us. The locals will give you wry and amused stares at the start. Especially when you look like you just landed in Kalupahana from the battlefields of Afghanistan, carrying heavy backpacks and all. But you just keep walking :)

It’s a tarred, single road. No unplanned turns. You just have to keep walking. The sensible ones will go up on a tuk tuk or some other kind of vehicle. But the rest of us prefer the old fashioned way by foot. If I remember correctly we walked a couple of hours until we came smack in front of the highest waterfall we had ever seen. There is nothing obstructing your view. There is you on the road, then there is the small valley below and then there's the gigantic waterfall. Nothing short of spectacular.

But stopping here was not the objective. The objective was to get to the start of the waterfall right at the very top. There is a footpath which leads bathers to the bottom of the waterfall. We took this footpath and came to the base. However, from the base it is evident that the top of the waterfall can never be seen unless we climb to the top. The rocky outcrops and somewhat tangly greenery makes it difficult viewing. The only way was up. And thus started the treacherous climb.

Okay that might be an exaggeration. It’s not that treacherous. But the recent showers had covered the footpath to an extent that it was barely visible. Add to that that the fact that the ground was covered in wet and dead pine leaves and that makes for a pretty tricky climb. Note to self (and everyone else) - ALWAYS try to do your hikes when the sun is shining.

Our initial topographical objectives included visting the little known 'Lanka Ella' as well. How you do this is, you circumvent the trek to the top of Bambarakanda and walk across the hill to your left. Follow the footpath. There is a couple of pretty good milestones to ensure that you're on the correct track. After about 15 minutes (or so) of trekking, you will reach an open rocky outcrop. More like a T-Junction with the tail of the T going up. At this point you should be able to see the highway snaking its way through the mountains in the far distance. If you reach here, you're not lost. If not, fear not. If I had written this post 3 months earlier I could've given you vivid details. There's only one way up to the top of B'Kanda and that’s up the mountain.

We trekked for a bit more and finally came across an opening whereby we could see the beautiful Lanka Ella. There's something about rain I tell you. The moisture makes the greenery more greener and lusher and prettier to look at and man was that a sight. (See pictures :)). However, this was not our main objective. Trekking to even the base of Lanka Ella, although it was in plain sight was a bit of a stretch on our schedule and legs. So we decided to turn back and go to the top of B'Kanda. 

As I mentioned earlier, the showers had redesigned the footpath to an extent that we could individually see many paths which looked like the correct footpath. So we decided to buck up and improvise. We had a GPS device, the top is in front and that’s where we will go. Remember Grade 9 science and 'Wisthapanaya'? (I don't really know what it’s called in English). That's the route we took. When you are very close to the top of the waterfall you will find an unmissable rocky outcrop to the right. It’s not more than 3 feet wide and looks like a plank set out on a pirate ship. Ideal iconic photo place if you're doing this height. Same as the Petronas Towers, The Eiffel Tower the northernmost point notice at Point Pedro etc. The difference being you don’t need to risk your life for those pictures. DO NOT attempt to take a picture here if the conditions are windy. Please. It’s not worth the picture. 

A few feet more and voila - the very top of the highest waterfall in Sri Lanka - and we're standing right on it.

Bambarakanda - The starting pond at the top

Did you know that the start of the waterfall you see in pictures or from the main road is NOT the starting point? That's correct. What we see from the ground is the secondary start point (or maybe third). At the top, it’s like your ordinary waterfall. The kind of one that you find when travelling towards the hill country at every kilometer. The water cascaded over the rocks, falls onto a pond that’s about waist high at most and the through an opening of not more than 1 foot between the marshy outline, leaves the primary pond. 1 foot! That's all it takes to form the highest waterfall in Sri Lanka. Of course there are technicalities like secondary pools, water volume, temperature etc etc. But that was irrelevant at that time. One thing that I will NEVER EVER get used to is ice cold water on my body. But this was Bambarakanda - the highest waterfall in Sri Lanka and we were at the very top pond which no one sees, we will probably never come here again. (That was Prishan's line of convincing. He's got balls when it comes to cold water.) And so I dived in. Spent about 15 to 20 minutes in the pond. From the base of the mini fall I looked up to see the drops of water hurtling down. They're fast, unkind but makes you think. I wrote an entire essay in my head with a very lucid and poetic interpretation. Needless to say, thanks to my aversion to sitting down and typing something, that never saw the light of day. It was overall an extremely surreal experience. 

After that dip, we had a bit of lunch and got ready to make our way through to Devil's Staircase. It’s not really a point of attraction but we plotted our route of exit through it because of its aesthetic splendor.  You need to come down from the falls and make your way back to the base of the waterfall and from there on to the main trail again. By trail I mean the tarred road. The road is pretty good for a good distance from here. But before that, night was falling. We had to set up camp fast and we had to find a safe place to set up camp as well. So we started our hike towards Devil's staircase again. The plan was to cover as much ground as possible before darkness fell and visibility dropped. We were heading towards the 'V - Cut', a distinctive V shaped opening between two rocks in the middle of the trail. This milestone was more to comfort ourselves that we won’t have much more to hike tomorrow morning. However, we were tired and dead beat and by 6 pm we were on a trail leading towards a private teas estate. There were a couple of estate guards in the vicinity and upon their advice we set up camp on the side of the trail. After having some 'tinned' food and bread, we settled in to relax and have a chat until all 3 of us fell asleep. To our misfortune, there was a slight drizzle which prevented us from rustling up a campfire. This was the only downside since the night became very chilly very fast

Devil's Staircase

We woke up at 5.30 am. The previous night before we went to sleep we did a rough calculation and

estimated that we had a good 11 kms more to trek in order to reach the Ohiya railway station. There was train to Fort at 10.30 am. Rested and fresh, we felt that we could do the distance in 5 hours or so. There was a stream about 5 minutes away from where we camped. We freshened up as quickly as possible and started the long hike back to Ohiya through Devil's staircase. After about an hour or so of walking I instinctively turned back. No joke. That's exactly how it happened. And then I saw one of the most breath taking sunrises I’ve ever seen. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before in all my travels. See for yourself. I attached pictures :)

After an hour or so more, there it was. The V-Cut in the middle of the road. We were elated because this meant that Devil's staircase is extremely close by. With a new lease of life we started to hike a little faster looking for it. But our excitement started to dwindle as we saw no sign on it as the minutes went by. We half stopped to see if we were on the wrong r
oute. That's when we realized we were right there. We were at the start of the Devil's Staircase. The Devil's Stair case is a stretch of road leading down the mountain with extremely sharp turns and steep levels. When seen from the other end of the mountain it resembles a staircase instead of a road and thus the name. It takes a skilled driver to maneuver a vehicle here. I would've easily driven a car over the slope on the first turn. Anyway there it was. Not a marvel of nature but a poignant landmark for us.

The hike continued. Soon we were on the Haputale mountain range walking towards Ohiya. Our GPS device and a GPS locator on the phone showed a by road cutting across a mountain at some point which could save us around 6 kms (Which is a hell of a lot when you're hiking). Upon speaking to a local, we were told that we are currently on the main road to Ohiya and the shortcut is a path up the mountain cutting across the tea estates. Pretty hard to miss. The road branched into two a little later with one path going flat around the mountain while the other went up the mountain. We knew which one to take. Halfway up the mountain we turned back and saw Devil's Staircase in the distance. I didn’t really think that we had hiked that far in such a short time - and we were well on course to catch the 10.30 train. 

And that's when we hit a slight problem. There was a small impasse cutting across the footpath we were taking and it sure as hell looked as if it was going to join the upper section of the path we were currently on. So we took it. And after 15 minutes or so we realized that this was not a path taken by any human being for

a long time. The trail disappeared; the density or the undergrowth thickened mercilessly and the prickly trees seemed to follow us. Before long we were smack in the middle of a tea estate, or whatever estate it was. And we turned back to trace our way back. However, the path that we beat through seemed to have magically disappeared. For all we know, we could've been air dropped there on a helicopter. There was no path, and everything seemed alike. It was surreal and beautiful. By then we knew that we won’t be able to make the 10.30 train.

Well the phone was dead, so there was no map. Prishan's GPS locator showed that we had to go down the estate to end up at the point that we got side tracked. And so we did. However, there's just so much that you can follow a device when you're lugging 13 Kgs with only one free hand. And when we looked at the tracker again, we had to climb! Now this was dangerous. Each step you take is a leap of faith. You don’t know what you'll step on or if you'll step on anything at all. A couple of times I planted my foot through some nettle riddled colorful plants only to find that my foot was not meeting anything and gravity was pulling me down. I hung on to the branches around and regained control and balance. This is not an estate meant for hiking. This is a plantation and there were irrigation cuts beneath the plants. Be warned. 

Finally. Finally!! We were back on the trail we got sidetracked from. There was a train at 12.45 pm too. So we decided to dwell on this episode later and put the pedal to the metal. A local told us to take another shortcut. This time however, we asked him three times for the exact directions and before long we were on the road to the Ohiya main road. We could sense a main road with tar and vehicles above us. 

Half an hour later, there it was. The Ohiya - Pattipola main road. We were just bursting with joy. 3 kilometers and 45 minutes more to catch the next train to Colombo - this was also the final train for the day. But the road was a downward slope and flat. Upon failing to hitch a ride to Omiya (because there were no vehicles) we put the pedal to the metal again. No water breaks, no choo breaks. We just barreled on counting the bunds, KM signs and sparse vehicles.

We reached Ohiya 10 minutes before train time. That was a close shave. And we had enough time to down a plain tea at a nearby boutique before the train reached the station.

And thus ended another fantastic hike. Definitely one of the toughest so far and also one of the more rewarding. We do have a KMZ file with the GPS coordinates. Send me an email if anyone requires it and I shall get Prishan to send it across. What with our unintended detour to no man's land, it’s not socially responsible to upload that file here without a good enough excuse: P

You can see the pictures on my Flickr profile right here or on Prishan's profile here.

Until the next time then, happy hiking!

Miranga

Read More

Braving the heights at Bible Rock

Team of 3

1 Day in May 2013

Public Transport

Since of late, Bible Rock has become a bit of a tourist destination. Whenever I surf through the joyous World Wide Web, among the Syrian uprising, UEFA league updates and endless and pointless celebrity news, I often stumble upon a tour group that advertises treks/hikes to Bible Rock.

My travel buddy Prishan and I had been curious for some time to see what the fuss was all about. So we made Bible rock a part of a one day tour itinerary that covered Uthuwankanda as well (Refer previous post)

We first completed the Uthuwankanda hike and then moved onto Bible Rock (aka Bathalegala). So what we did was we came back to the Uthuwankanda junction and took the bus to Mawanella and from there took the bus to Debathgama. Ask the bus conductor to drop you off at Hathapalagama. This is the road that leads to Bible Rock. If you’re travelling from Colombo of course you need to take the bus to Mawanella from Pettah itself. (Or any bus that goes through Mawanella for that matter).

The bus passes through rural upcountry Sri Lanka and comes to Hathpalagama – which is kind of a really small city with a couple of boutiques strewn across. The road to the top of Bible Rock is pretty easy to find. If you can’t find it just ask the local and they’ll probably give you a bemused look and point to the road. It’s that easy to find.

The road winds through the better part of the village. It’s by no means a city. Scarcely populated but livelihoods thrive in small patches along the uphill climb. The road winds through some terrain that’s so high you sometimes tend to wonder how people living on such high terrain manage to get basic supplies. But they do. And needless to say, a fifty year old living on these hills will probably beat the crap out of Colombo fellows like me in a hundred yard dash. Mind you, this is a concrete road – at least on most parts. Tuk Tuks are frequent and we saw the occasional Honda Civic parked on flatter garden patches along the way. So if you have a 4WD unlike us, this is pretty easy going.

But even 4WDs can impress the locals so much. As the climb goes higher and higher, the habitation disappears along with what remained of the concrete road. This first stretch of the climb ends in an open area where presumably you have to leave your beautiful 4WDs at the mercy of the elements and continue the ascent the good old fashioned way – by foot. At this point, the trail begins with a marked sign which leads you to a sharp right. And then the real test of fitness begins.

As is the case with any upcountry hike, it is advisable to avoid the rainy season. We learnt this the hard way on our hike to Knuckles. We were lucky this time and there was only a slight splatter of raindrops which lasted for 10 minutes at most. The first part of this trail goes through a forest with massive trees which shield you from the sun and the rain. But the best part about this is that you can actually feel the power of the elements around you. The trees are massive and the canopy formation of leaves and branches allow only shards of sunlight in through the little openings. It’s an experience that you need to experience. This blog cannot pay justice to it. Okay! Moving on...

‘Mana’ is a staple form of vegetation on Sri Lankan higher grounds and Bible Rock as no exception. You will pass through a couple of waist to shoulder high Mana growth on your way to the summit. My friend Prishan did a waypoint documentation using his brand new navigator and I’ve attached the link to the KMZ file at the bottom of this post. But once on the trail you will realize that you don’t really need a waypoint navigator because the trail is pretty clear. It’s not Galle Road clear but as far as hiking trails and common sense goes, you can’t go wrong.

After a strenuous hike which lasted just over 2 hours, we reached the final phase of our climb to the top. And the stories were true. This is indeed the hard part of the climb. Personally I don’t see how some of these tour companies take little kids to Bible Rock, because the last part of this hike is quite tricky and dangerous (Maybe they stop at a certain point. I don’t really know). The climb steepens to almost a 45 degree angle after a certain point and if you look underfoot you will see that you are actually on pure solid rock. Some good folk who had foreseen the plight of hikers such as us had made some crude concrete steps on the tough to scale rock incline. There is also a steel wire lying on the rock which the hiker can use to hold on to and pull himself through a point just before the concrete steps point. But be careful. There is a steel wire lying on one part of the path with no visible concrete steps. DO NOT try to be a hero and walk on the rock using this wire as a holding rope – simply because on the side of the rock are nature/man-made rock steps which can serve the purpose safely. However all this concrete steps / wires business lasts for like 20 meters. After that it’s back to ‘balls to the wall’ balancing.

Whenever you can, leave your pride on the ground and walk on all fours. The winds at this height are amazingly strong and you are fully exposed in a 270 degree angle. The closer you are to the floor, the better chance you will have of reaching the summit before ending up in Mawanella. Do not forget to turn around and look back at this point. Especially this point. What you see will make you wonder what the hell you’re doing in the concrete jungle back in Colombo.

Finally, the mini terrors ended and before we knew it, we are at the summit! The first thing you’ll notice is this one single tree smack in the middle of your path when at the plateau. Yes, it was just as we pictured. The summit is not a massive cone. It was a plateau. Like a massive cricket ground with an extra extra long ‘Long On’ and ‘Fine Leg’ and a really really short ‘Mid Wicket’ and ‘Deep Extra Cover’. We explored the
plateau from one corner to the other. If you intend on camping, it’s perfectly possible. There is an abandoned mini temple with a Bell Tower and a Bo Tree on the right edge of the plateau and a rundown little room/building on the way to it. Basically, lots of safe places to camp overnight. However, you will need to have some water with you since there aren’t a lot of water sources on the way. There was a after you pass the civilization there was a very very tiny waterfall further away from the track. This was the only water source we came across and we cannot guarantee its purity either. And this too was at the very beginning of the trail.

My friends use the ‘Check In’ option on Facebook to check into restaurants, airports, movie theatres etc. Prishan and I use it to check in at mountain tops J However; we had a hard time keeping a 3G signal going. But our determination proved successful and after checking in at ‘Bible Rock Summit’, we went to the left corner of the plateau, found a flat open rock, took our shoes and socks off and chilled at 819 meters above sea level. Bliss!

Hope this post was informative enough. Should you wish to know more please email me on ceylontripper@gmail.com or use the popular method nowadays - Facebook. That should work too.

The link to the waypoint map is available on my dropbox folder right here.

More pictures of the hike can be found on my Flickr profile or on Prishan's Flickr profile.

Until next time then,

Buh-bye!

Miranga

Read More