Thotupola Kanda to Namunukula - a hiker's dream.

The train ride to Pattipola

It’s been over 3 months since we did our bike ride around the country. We’ve had enough time to recover and think about another adventure. One thing was for sure. We’re not going to do that bike ride again for a really really long time to come.

So after much deliberation, we finally decided to climb Mount Namunukula – a mountain range with nine peaks towards Badulla in Sri Lanka. If you had read my posts earlier, you would recall that we were attacked by bees during our ascent to Mount Kirigalpotta and hence discouraged us from climbing Thotupola Kanda, which was just a stone’s throw away. Well, the bee season was over, so what better time to squeeze in the third highest mountain of LK other than now?

Itinerary made, we got back to waddling through the days leading up to the hike. Two days before the hike, the railway locomotive drivers decided to call a union action. This put us in a spot of bother as the train was a key component of our itinerary. We made it onto the Pettah railway station on the 13^th of February only to find that the whole o Colombo was waiting to get onto the Badulla night mail train. There were fewer trains running and a lot more people trying to get to their homes out of Colombo for the long weekend – a really bad equation for a hiker carrying a backpack weighing over 10kgs and a tent to boot.

We had no option. We HAD to get on this train. The train was about half an hour late and this added to the tension on the platform. Security was lax and there were fights breaking up in small pockets across the entire station. It resembled one of those D-Day movies where everyone was trying to get to safety at all costs. The train arrives. And the mad dash began. I remember using strength that I never knew I had to push and force my way into the compartment. There were swears and curses by angry commuters thanks to my 10kg backpack, but I had to ignore. The objective was to find two feet of space and an empty space in the overhead rack to push the tent in. With much difficulty, all three of us were successful – albeit in different corners of the compartment. We didn’t worry much about it – it’s a 6 hour train ride. Although we had no space, we had plenty of time.

After a couple of hours, the traffic subsided considerable and we were able to breathe freely again. We even managed to find a space to sit and we took turns giving our legs a much needed rest. The compartment that we were in was occupied by a group of cadets from Nalanda College going for a training camp in Diyathalawa. Those boys were fun. They kept the entire compartment entertained with their light hearted banter and merry singing – which I might add, was rarely on key J

Before we knew it, we were at Pattipola. This must be about the 4^th time that we’ve come to the highest station in Sri Lanka. We’ve always had good memories associated with it. And we were hoping that this would be no different.

The hike to Thotupola Kanda

Our first milestone was to reach Thotupola Kanda – the 3^rd highest mountain in Sri Lanka. We had plans to do this the last time we were in Horton Plains about 5 months back. But the timing was really bad since we went smack in the middle of the blooming season. You can read about that here. However, we were determined to do it this time – bee stories or not.

There were about 5 and a half kilometres from the station to the Horton Plains – Pattipola entrance gate. We were fresh enough and keen. So we were able to reach the gate by about 6am – just as the gate was opened for visitors. We purchased a ticket to the Plains and made the short hike to the entrance turnoff to Thotupola Kanda. This proved to be a pretty easy hike since we had to do just about 1.5 kilometres to reach the summit. We stopped for a break and a customary photo and then began climbing the mountain. On our way we could see the remains from the blooming season. The Nelu flowers were pretty much dead and there were no bees. It was like walking through a destroyed and forgotten city since we knew how thriving this area was not more than 5 months ago. Half an hour more and the scenery changed magically. We were confronted by the all too familiar greenery which can only be found on uninhabited mountain tops and the familiar smells of morning dew and fresh flowers. The sun was blazing down by this time and the lack of mist made it easier to see for miles and miles over the mountain range. This is what you’re missing by sitting in front of your laptop reading this J

Before long – there we were. On the top of Thotupola Kanda. There was a small radio tower, a shack and some solar panels on the summit. I don’t know whether this is currently in service or not. But the radio tower provided one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. We were so high up we could see mountain ranges covered in mist sprawling as far as the eye can see. It was like a scene from a fantasy movie. We clicked enough pictures and took in all our eyes could take in before reluctantly deciding to make our way back. It was about 7.15 am. We’ve made good time and the rest of the itinerary was open before us. Also, we couldn’t get a proper sleep on the train since there were no seats. So on our way down, we put our bags down on a flat piece of land surrounded by nothing on 3 sides to have power nap. There can never be anything better than chilling and having a bit of rest on top of the world with the entire countryside visible below you, can there?

Fresh and rested, we woke up at about 7.45 and picked up our bags and the tent to make our way down to the Horton Plains entrance gate again. Our next connection was a train to Demodara from Pattipola at 1.10 pm. So we had plenty of time. But to our mild amusement, we descended the mountain in about 15 to 20 minutes.

Milestone achieved, we started our hike back to Pattipola through the same route we came.

Spring Valley – the lost gem of Badulla

The railway strike was in full force. Upon reaching Pattipola, the station master told us the 10.15 am train was cancelled and that the 1.15 train will also be late about an hour. Our hiking was done for day one anyway. So we didn’t really mind as long as the train did come. Our plan was to make it towards Spring Valley (which was on the foot of the Namunukula mountain range) on the Demodara – Badulla road and then camp there somewhere overnight. Tomorrow morning we would make beeline from Spring Valley to the highest peak in the Namunukula range. Since we had lots of time to kill, we decided to take a small nap in the station and then left the station towards Pattipola town to have some good lunch.

Fish is a luxury when you’re this high up in the mountains. So the choices were limited when it came to rice and curry. However, we were hungry enough to devour half of Pattipola. So we helped ourselves to some salmon rice and plain tea and walked back to the station in expectation of the train. Again, we dozed off slightly till the train arrived. We were in luck. The train did come at about 2pm and we were able to get on without much of a hassle. The train wound its way through some utterly, stupendously beautiful countryside. If I could do this or a living I would jump at the chance. The waterfalls, the tea estates, the winding rail tracks, the mountains etc would be a sight for any Colombo dweller. We passed over the world famous Demodara Bridge within a couple of hours and I cursed myself for having the camera safely tucked away in the camera bag.

Within minutes we arrived at the Demodara station and caught a tuk tuk to take us to Spring Valley and the legendary Black Pool. It was a little further than we expected. We had to travel about 10 kilometres till we finally reached the pool. We had to walk through a precarious man made bridge and reach the Kovil in Spring Valley. The pool was right behind it. This was a welcome break. There was no one else in the pool and we had it all to ourselves. So we shed our clothes and took a dip on the shallow side. The deep side should be avoided at all costs – just so you know. After a refreshing dip, we got dressed again and made our way to the Kovil. The next step was to find a campsite.

Through numerous nights spent on mountain tops, we knew by experience that Spring Valley in itself was the ideal location to camp. It was surrounded by mountains, the breeze was pretty low and it wasn’t as cold. Also, a stream running parallel to the Kovil, which provided us with a water source to fuel up tomorrow early morning. And we saw the ideal spot too – right in the corner of the Kovil premises. We asked around from the estate workers about whom we should speak to in order to get permission.  We were directed to a house a little further away on the hill where the ‘leader’ of the estate resided. I can’t quite recall his name and he wasn’t home either. But another fellow in the household spoke to him on the phone and he gave us the green light.

Night was falling fast. Without wasting much time we unravelled our trusted tent and set up camp in the Kovil premises. This was smack in the middle of an estate, so the entire tea estate civilization along with its ‘line’ houses was around us. And the inhabitants were very accommodative. They popped into the kovil premises from time to time as they passed by to see if we were okay and if we needed anything. We assured them we were and by 7pm, we had had a bit of dinner and settled into sleep. We were extremely tired after that sleepless night mail train ride. And before long all three of us were snoring away.

The climb to Namunukula

We were up by 6am. We were enlightened about the many trails to the top of Namunukula the day before. But since we were not locals, we were told that the best way to the top is to take the bus to Nallamalai from Spring Valley and start our hike from there. There were only two buses on this road. And they weren’t very frequent. If we were lucky there was might be a bus at 6.30 am. But we weren’t. So we had to wait for the CTB bus that was supposed to come at 8am.

This is when our luck started to run out. That bus never came. The estate workers were confident that CTB fellows faked a breakdown since it was a Saturday (This is apparently known to happen in the CTB). We waited till about 9am with no luck and so we finally decided to hire a tuk tuk to Nallamalai. By 9.30 am we were in Nallamalai. The tuk tuk driver showed us the start of the trail. The start of the trail was through some civilization. And this is by far not the shortest route to the top. But since we were foreigners in this land, we had to stick to the known trail. The villagers at the bottom elevated our tension a bit when they said that there was no clear path to the top. The villagers had peeled a little bit of the bark off trees along the trail in order to make sure that they did not get lost. All we had to do was follow these marked trees through to the Turpentine tree forest and then through dense jungle to the top. Pretty easy right? I laugh now about our naivety.

Until we reached the mountain turn-off to Passara, there were a couple of locals on the trail. We were still at the bottom of the mountain so to speak. We had to ask directions till we reached this point. Thereafter we were on our own. The trail was pretty clear until reached a little stream. We freshened up and filled our bottles at this point and crossed the stream. This was when things got complicated. The first couple of trees had marks leading to two different trails. Indika and I kept our trees with Prishan and went along the two different paths to do some scouting. Indika’s trail had marks to a considerable distance while mine had none. So the rational decision was to follow the trail to the left.

We did so, and we were getting increasingly unsure about the route we were taking. There were no signs of a trail and it hardly looked used. But the good thing was, we were going up. So we had to end up somewhere. Prishan’s GPS tracker was on and it was tracking the path we were taking too. The incline was pretty steep. And we were getting tired and dehydrated faster. But finally, we saw the starting patch of the Turpentine forest. We gratefully stumbled into the forest and took a much needed break to account for our faculties.

Although the incline was steep, the path ahead was clear. When you’re this tired and hiking, that gives you a lot of confidence. We could even see the peaks from here. But there was some way to go before we reached the top. We navigated through the Turpentine trees and finally reached the end of its patch – to be confronted with a dense forest. The tree marks were still visible. But this was unlike any other hike, we’ve done before. We had hiked through forests before, but then again there was a trail. Here there was none. We just had the tree marks to guide us and the forest was getting thicker and harder to navigate with each step. We didn’t think it was safe to stop in one place for long because we had no idea what kind of animal was watching our every move. So, with the hot sun blaring down on us, we trudged through the mountainous forest with the little energy we had.

After an hour or so, the forest didn’t seem to get any clearer and we could not see the end of the tree line. It was past 1pm and our confidence was beginning to drop. I had doubts about the route we were taking. But Prishan convinced me that we were still going up, and we had the marks on the trees at reasonable intervals. So it had to mean we were on the right track. We turned and looked back at the path that we had come through. There was no sign of a trail at all and we wondered how we would’ve gotten back if it wasn’t for Prishan’s GPS tracker. Either way, we were smack in the middle of one of the thickest jungles we’ve been in.  

Half an hour more and even the tree marks disappeared. The area was now relatively thinly spread, so we had more visibility but still we couldn’t see the end of the tree line. Indika volunteered to go up a bit and scout for a trail. I remember him shouting from the top saying that he has encountered a large rock and that he couldn’t see anything beyond it. He came down to where we were and we sat down to have a break and decide upon the next course of action.

This is when we had a stroke of luck. We heard voices from the bottom. It appeared that we were not the only ones summiting Namunukula that day. We shouted and did the customary ‘Hoowa’ to get a response. But at that altitude, the voice carries farther than necessary and we weren’t really sure whether the voices were coming from above or below. But after a while, we heard a response ‘hoowa’ from the other party. We were silently overjoyed. The voice that responded was that of a little boy. We finally figured out that the voice was coming from above us. We shouted and asked for directions. And we followed the voices to the top. We avoided the rock and beat a path through a side and climbed with a reinvigorated spirit. A few more steps and the landscape changed completely. The tree line magically disappeared and we were now on what appeared to be a familiar landscape – that of a mountain top.

We waded through the chest high undergrowth with a new lease of life and saw the other party a little further away. And that was it. We were right on the top after the most difficult hike we’ve ever done. We almost gave up under the big rock thinking we were lost. Only to realise later that the summit was right above it. That was a life lesson learnt on the mountains.

The other party was a bunch of locals from Namunukula town who had come to the summit for a day out with some friends. Before long, other people also joined that party and now they were 20 strong. While they went about exploring the summit, we too did the rounds and saw the Hindu and Buddhist shrines at the top.

After spending some time snapping some pictures, we were finally ready to descend. But we weren’t really looking forward to going down that same route we came. The locals on top asked us to follow them to our relief. So we joined the back of the pack and walked down with them. However, the route was not less hard. The declines were steeper and our propensity to topple over was far greater. But we were less apprehensive because we were with experienced people who knew the route.

We walked and descended over a stream and finally reached the Turpentine tree forest. After a small break, the younger natives raced down the hill to the point from which we started the hike – The Passara turnoff. We took our own time since we were straddled with 10kgs each. Upon reaching the bottom, an elderly gentleman invited us to have lunch with them at a waterfall nearby and offered to drop us off at the bus to Passara. We tried to decline his offer politely because we did not want to burden them anymore. But they were insistent. At the waterfall on the road to Passara, we all stopped and he gave us a massive lunch packet which we gobbled down heartily after thanking him and his daughter profusely. After lunch, the group broke off into three sub groups. We followed the elderly man and he guided us onto the main road through a variety of shortcuts across the estates. We got to know that he was a native from Namunukula town and that he was a farmer. He even showed us his paddy fields from the point where we were at.

Evening was falling fast and we were making good ground through the estates at record speed thanks to ‘Uncle’s expert local knowledge. Luck was on our side because as soon as we reached the main road, the bus to Passara ambled on down from the mountain. He stopped the bus for us and the younger folk of his clan instructed the conductor to drop us off at the tenth milepost – from where we took a bus to Badulla town and subsequently, a bus to Colombo.

And thus finished one of the toughest hikes yet. We came back home thinking about the wonderful escape, the adrenaline rush and the absolutely amazing people we met on top of a mountain. Hopefully we can keep doing this in time to come.

You can find pictures of this hike on my Flickr profile right here. So until the next hike then - travel well, travel safe.

Miranga

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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

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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

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