Unawatuna – Galle – Colombo – Wattala

One day Miriam and I venture over to the other side of the beach at Unwatuna, where we look over to from our side as we sit and swim. Walking up the road we get to a muddy carpark full of cars and people, going through the trees the beach is packed with people. You can hardly see the sand or the sea. All the women are fully clothed and Miriam and I, her in her shorts and me just being me, are the bearest and whitest people here. As we stand watching we become aware that this is not our beach, this is their beach – just a small stretch of sand – the end bit – packed – festive atmosphere – people enjoying their families and their picnics. We begin to feel acutely uninvited and head back to our beach very much aware of the dividing line between our nicely-kept, holiday brochure beach and the beach for the locals.

So, having spent 10 days at a tourist resort we now head to the real Sri Lanka.

As we get into the tuk-tuk outside Shangri La I still have my huge suitcase that flew with me from UK to Colombo to last us four months (wondering why on earth I didn’t drop it off at Miriam’s house on the way) and my carry on bag and my handbag and there is Miriam’s suitcase too. Tuk-tuks are tricycle scooters with a shell that people will squeeze as many people and as many belongings into as they can, so of course our bags are made to fit and we arrive at Galle train station in time for the 2:30 train to Kandy which stops off at Colombo on the way. With our 2^nd class tickets we drag our suitcases up the platform in and out of people waiting – it’s busy because it’s the second week of the New Year holidays. As we wait I smile at a little girl in the carriage we are facing and the whole family smiles back. The little boy in the carriage next door to us slowly waves his hand too. He seems to be quite shocked to see such a foreign face. The family next door seems to find it entertaining too and Miriam and I decide that whether they are laughing at us or smiling with us, it’s got to be a good thing to make people smile :)

When our train arrives the carriages that go by are stuffed to the brim with people travelling from Matara. Instead of bothering to find our actual seats in 2^nd class we pull our suitcases up the steps onto the first carriage we can fit onto. The doorway to the carriage already seems half full of people and as I push my suitcase just through the doorway the carriage next to us is brimming with people, the luggage racks are at their limit and we conclude that the spot where we pushed ourselves on is where we are going to stay. We seem to be blocking all the doorways, but none of the people stuffed in the corridor with us grumble or moan or ask us to move. After waiting for the train to leave for half an hour we contemplate getting off to get the later train. I feel like I’m in the way because my suitcase is taking up enough space for 3 people, but the two men that are standing on the steps outside hanging onto the doorframe instead of where my suitcase is persuade us to stay, insisting that we are not bothering them at all. If anything they seem quite happy that we have joined them for a journey in 3^rd class!

For the first few minutes the prospect of spending 4 hours standing up squashed in between people seems painful, but after a while your feet become numb and the people around you just seem to slot in without complaint. To let people out of the carriages we twist and turn and breathe in, but not a cross word is spoken. People have been travelling like this for always - they don’t have National Rail to blame or strikes or the weather, they are just resigned to the fact that there is never enough space. As the train leaves the station I watch a world of colour flash by the open door as the men brace themselves against the wind and turn to smile at us every now and then as if to check that we are standing comfortably.

The train line follows the coastline. King coconuts, villages, papayas, bananas, lagoons flash by in between sunlit stretches of the Indian Ocean. Beaches go by where children and women splash in the waves fully clothed – beaches littered with fishing boats and debris – a world away from the beach at Unawatuna – tourist-less. At each station, although it seems impossible, more people fit on and we re-arrange ourselves to let them past and to relieve the pins and needles. At one station our friend at the door acquires a bag of white crystals from a vendor outside the carriage. We point to the bag questioningly and he offers us one – crystals of sugar. The next vendor squeezes through the corridor calling something in Sinhala and as he passes me, stops to translate, ‘Hello. Peanuts?’ This makes me and everyone around us smile and even more so as we near our destination.

At Colombo the people behind us push so hard to get out that I barely have time to pick up my suitcase. The door men smile at us again and seem relieved as they have another two hours to get to Kandy and can now take up the place of my suitcase. Outside the station, after wheeling my suitcase through the well-suited crowds of commuters, down the platform and across the tracks, we get into the first tuk-tuk that tries to rip us off and make the last-leg of our journey. Colombo to Wattala. Home. Miriam’s home.

The creaking metal steps, the annex room with its pink walls and asbestos roof, the view of the rooftops that surround us and the chipmunks that call from the roof outside – everything seemed familiar when I got here. The early morning noises – the loud clatter of the shop opening its shutters beneath us, the tuk-tuks revving up in the garage next door, the dogs barking, the jolly music and Sinhala babblings of the radio in the house below, the mopeds, bikes, cars honking and people selling fish at 7 in the morning, rattling past. It feels like we are living on top of the neighbourhood. People are early-risers because they are hard-workers and also because it is cool early in the morning. As for our holiday lie-ins, it becomes unbearably hot to stay in bed under the mosquito net much after 9 and so the idea of going to bed at 9 and getting up before the sun does becomes a very sensible one!

The past two weeks have been spent putting faces to the names that Miriam has spoken of and experiencing Sri Lankan hospitality. Wherever we go we are invited to drink plain tea or ice water and offered platefuls of lemon biscuits. One family make sure we eat lunch everyday – either at their house or by sending us lunch packets of rice, chicken curry, fish curry, jack fruit curry, beetroot curry, anything curry – cooked nice and hot to burn the lips. After all the worrying about coping with the chilli, I actually seem to be managing and, much to Miriam’s disappointment, have not shed a tear! Maybe they are being kind and cutting down on the chilli, but for now it’s bearable and really quite tasty! We have settled into a routine of visiting people, cooking, eating, watching films (you can get nothing but pirate films here for £1, including the ones which are still showing in the cinemas at home, although I will resist the temptation to bringing them home to create my own black market when I leave :p) and playing scrabble. It storms every other day and if we happen to be sleeping at the time, we get rained on in bed, which is an interesting, if not refreshing experience! The heat is bearable at the moment because it is the rainy season, which keeps things a little cooler. The temperature has been on or just above 30 celsius most days, which is nice when we have the fan but when the electricity cuts out asbestos roofs are not known for keeping things cool and it gets rather warm to say the least! On the second day of our recent power cut we made a trip to ‘Majestic City’, a shopping mall in Colombo. We ate ice cream and then went to Pizza Hut for pizza and some air-conditioning bliss. What a treat! It seems that I despise these chain restaurants when I’m at home but when I get over-heated and chillied out, I am all too happy to swap my so-called ‘principles’ for a bit of comfort!! ;p

Monday, 3^rd May, we go East for a couple of days, where it gets a lot hotter on both the food and the weather front. Every person we tell seems to grimace at the thought of it, including the Sri Lankans…so that should be fun! Watch this space :)