Post-war, tsunamis and a little girl with a torch...

Sri Lanka. One of my top 5 places to visit (as well as newly discovered Iceland, Bali, San Francisco and the jury’s still out on the other one… I can tell you a few places which aren't).

(My welcome sign at the Airport - You can see why this would've made me laugh by reading this post here: My nemesis...)

I’ve been working from our Sri Lanka office for this past week and, despite the ‘two day’ days (due to the time difference I’ve averaged 8am – 2am) I did manage some down time.

This is much to the disbelief of my friends who often just see the beaches and sights on Facebook (one day I might punish them with daily updates of just me, hot and sweaty in an office, getting bitten by mosquitoes and on the constant lookout for cockroaches), but if you spend your weekdays working 18 hours, trust me, you want to get out of Colombo after a while. 

My highlights…

Colombo post-war

The last time I was here was 3 years ago. This was about 6 months after the LTTE war and not much had changed by then except a few less guns and an ice cream shop. This time, I couldn’t believe my eyes, particularly as everything was still clean and tidy from the CHOGM 2013 visit. A little bit like how we tidied up Oxford Street and put flags everywhere during the London 2012 Olympics, like we do that sort of thing all the time.

They have pavement. Actual pavement. With 'blind-man bumps' and everything. Pedestrian crossings and traffic lights that are ignored, but they’re there now at least.

They have zebra crossings; again mostly ignored. There’s a Shangri-La hotel being built, and numerous others have popped up. Back in the day you were limited to two or three places that were ‘nice’ to eat (one of which gave my better half food poisoning when he joined me on a trip), but really, I was spoilt this time with cafes, bars and even a TGI Fridays - This, by the way, isn’t my idea of a nice restaurant, but you can see how the Western world is taking influence– I found this highly disturbing and it saddens me to think that Sri Lanka might lose its character in the process. 

 (Colombo train station now. With a digital clock!)

 (And a digital departures board! This, by the way, probably isn't accurate, but still... It's digital).

 (The Sky Lounge at the Kingsbury Hotel on Galle Road. Yes, you read that right... Sky Lounge).

 (A motorway. Who'd have thunk it. During 100kms we saw about three cars using this, but my friend told me he hoped there'd soon be more. I told him to be careful what he wished for).

 

But the biggest and by far the best difference is that the people aren’t afraid any more.

Imagine the threat of suicide bombers, power cuts and air strikes, and being security checked every time you go to the train station, shopping centre or super market to buy some milk or bread. A member of our team in the Sri Lankan office lost his father to a suicide bomber on a bus a few years ago… He told me that bombs would go off every month or so. On the morning of his dad’s murder, he said goodbye to him at the bus station. Each going their separate directions to catch different buses, as usual. You couldn’t predict it, you couldn’t not carry on with your lives, and I’m guessing that it just became the way things were at the time.

The people

I’ve already written a post about Sri Lanka, which was from when I used to travel here before. One consistency is the people. They are the friendliest I’ve met in all of the Asian countries I’ve visited. They will do anything to help you, and if you can get over the constant bartering, offers of a tuk tuk ride when you really just want to walk, and the stares, even now, especially in the rural areas (I’m sure I looked like some sort of white witch whore in my shorts above the knee when I visited some of the local villages), then you’ll see that they welcome you with open arms.

I met a guy called Samantha (yes, that’s a guy’s name) at Unawatuna beach on Sunday. He was a friend of a friend I used to work with, and he started telling me about the tsunami. It may sound a bit morbid, but I’m fascinated by how people react in certain situations and I think it’s important to not forget what happened that day.

 

Before the wave struck, Sam was telling off his son for his bike having flat tyres. His son, however, was more interested in playing on one of the hotel guests’ Nintendo games that they’d got for Christmas a couple of days earlier. Like so many of the other survivors, it was just a case of being in the right place at the right time. If Sam’s son had been fixing his bike, he’d have been doing it metres from the beach. Fortunately, all of Sam’s family survived.

Sam tells me that he was walking down the road a little way from his house and saw some tuk tuk drivers shouting, “Run! Lots of water!” and, like a lot of people I’ve spoken to, didn’t know what this meant or what was happening. The term “tsunami” wasn’t widely used back then. Sam tells me that, ironically now, there’s been a beachfront café called Tsunami, in one of the other towns that’s run by a Japanese fellow, for years. If we heard that word now, I’m sure we’d all run a mile for the nearest high place and stay there.

I won’t go into too much detail here, as it isn’t really my story to tell, but Sam explained how his family was safe, and how he even managed to rescue 12 people from neighbouring hotels (a feat that earned him a medal from Westminster, due to one of those people being a Guernsey Minister).

It’s easy, whilst someone is telling you a story like this by the way, as you sit on the beach front, people around you sunbathing, playing volley ball and enjoying some afternoon drinks, to cast your eye at the sea and wonder what on earth must’ve been going through everybody’s minds when it happened and how you’d react if it happened right then.

Sam tells me that it wasn’t a big wave in Unawatuna. Just very fast, rising water. And, sadly, so many people walked out into the sea when it retreated before the second wave hit elsewhere.

During the following days, Sam helped with the rescue missions and “clean up of the bodies”. He tells is just like that. How the monitors (these are crocodile-like things, which roam the streets sometimes, that aren’t dangerous unless you start it first) and also how the local stray dogs, start taking bites out of the people who haven’t survived, so he and the other locals bury the bodies to stop this from happening. “They were human beings who needed to be buried”, Sam says simply. A week or so after, a knock came at his door, and the local police as well as some officers from Scotland Yard were there to question why he hadn’t left the bodies where they were. I’m not sure whether this is for my benefit (being English), but he tells me that the Scotland Yard team was very sympathetic in explaining to the local police why he would’ve done this. They then, with Sam directing them to where the bodies had been buried, exhumed the bodies and sent them for one more burial in Colombo.

During this story, Sam throws in a few one-liners to lighten the mood. This sounds strange to my innocent, western ears, but the people here often do this when talking about dire matters, which I think is a testament to how they deal with certain situations that life throws at them.

He tells me how one of the advertising boards, which usually stand 30 feet high at the side of the roads, was out at sea claiming, “Please come again!” (A story which he checked with my friend in Sinhalese first, before telling it to me in English, just in case it didn’t translate with the right tone).

He also said how funny it was, during the god-awful exhumation, that when he’d told the British charity workers to put tiger balm “up their noses” to hide the smell (meaning just by their nostrils) that they’d taken him literally and put a whole slather of it up both nostrils, causing about 20 minutes of them crying in pain. This obviously isn't Sam being disrespectful to the situation he was in at the time, but you've got to give the guy a break after all the horrific things he must've witnessed.

All in all, Sam explains how it all seems like so long ago now and that he doesn’t think about it too often anymore, but instead just has a moment from time-to-time. I guess that’s what happens when you need to move on and continue living 20 feet away from what could easily have broken most of us for the rest of our lives.

Our charity

So this is getting pretty heavy, isn’t it? I’m moving on to child poverty, maternal death and one of the most worthy experiences of my life so far, next. Be prepared…

My company is a fairly small one, which makes us bloody chaotic at times, but really flexible. A few years ago, my bosses decided to put some of our profits to one side and start a charity to help Sri Lankan children, who can’t afford the tools, to get an education. We’ve had an office here for about 11 years, and they wanted to give something back to the country that has given them so much.

 (Some of the students we sponsor).

Schooling is free here, but actual schools are few and far between, meaning that often the children can’t afford to get to school or cannot afford the tools to do so. For instance, not being able to buy two school uniforms (that they need because Sri Lanka is very humid and very dirty), which means that they cannot wash and dry their only uniform in time for the next day and therefore can’t go to school.

We basically make very simple changes, which make (forgive me for sounding like a Red Cross advert) some huge differences to a child’s life.

You'd never find a Sri Lankan child complaining about their situation, but the reason that they want to study so much is because it really is their only ticket to a better life.

The reason I wanted to come to Sri Lanka so much this time, despite no longer managing the team here (and don’t even get me started on China) was to visit some of these children. I met a girl, who lives in the jungle, and travels 23kms to school, which includes an hour trek through the jungle, and two hours by bus. She leaves at 5am each morning. She’s nine years old and painfully shy when she’s talking to me, but I manage to break out of her that she wants to be a teacher when she’s older and that her favourite lesson is Sinhalese (where they learn about religion and the history of the culture). 

Her mother died in a river accident a few years ago, and she lives with her father who does odd jobs to make a living. Other than that, they drink water from the nearby spring and eat vegetables that they grow themselves. He’ll make just a few pounds a month. Literally. At most, £12 a month. I spent this on a lipstick in Duty Free before I left.

We travelled to her house to give her a solar-powered torch because she cannot study at nighttime because, like so many, her house doesn’t have any electricity. Her face (and sorry for leaving in this pun which wrote itself, but it’s probably time for some light heartedness) literally lit up when we presented the torch, which to us seemed like such a simple thing to give someone.

To get to and from her house from Colombo, it took me and my colleague 12 hours by public bus, that same trek through the jungle, and a 1 hour terror ride in a Tuk Tuk from a local who was helping us to play a game of “chase the bus” because we missed our last one out of the nearest village. 

If it hadn’t been for that local, I definitely wouldn’t be sitting in Colombo airport today as I’d have missed my flight home. 

After we left, I text my boss to tell him that we must buy this girl a bike… He replied quickly, “just do it, we’ll sort the money later.” I'd already told the girl that we were going to do this for her (having no doubt that my boss would agree) and she looked at us in disbelief. I asked her what her favourite colour was, and, without even connecting the two, she very timidly said, ‘red’.  I told her that we’d try and get her a red bike (I’m told that bikes only really come in blue or green here, but I’ll paint the thing myself if I have to) and left her with some colouring pencils so that she could draw me a picture of it once she gets it. My boss and I agreed to split the cost between us, saying that it would be by far the best thing we’ll do all day, this week, possibly ever.

So after that experience yesterday, and with Sri Lanka often being the place where I come back a slightly different person to who I was when I arrived (that’s one for another time), this trip has certainly been an experience. When I got back to the office later, I put the below picture up on Facebook with a brief summary of the girl’s story and, not that this is the way I judge this sort of thing, but, it’s had 110 ‘likes’ in about 6 hours and still going.

Many of my friends commented that I was like an angel to her and what an amazing thing it was that I’d done (which was very kind of them), but this actually made me feel awkward as all I really did was rock up with a light and talk to a child who has no idea how different her life is to mine.

The problem with experiencing something that gives you perspective is that it disappears again so quickly, often when we get annoyed by something that really is trivial in the grand scheme of things and we forget how lucky we really are.

I’m making a silent promise to that girl, and the other 99 students we have so far, to try and keep a little bit of it with me always.

The land of Ice...

Iceland... Land of the explosions. According to this "quality condom" anyway:

If you were in, or trying to fly into, Europe a couple of years ago, you might remember us all getting grounded due to the volcano, Eyjafjallajökull (don't ask me to pronounce that), kicking off, resulting in a two week ban on all air travel. After visiting its home though, all is forgiven, and if you were lucky enough to be stuck in Iceland at the time, there are certainly worse places to be caught in (I'm talking to you, China).

A few helpful things you should know about Iceland...

It's expensive, but not as bad as everyone bangs on about. About £5.50 a pint (the standard way to judge the economy of any country in my book). This may sound like a lot, but that's only about 50p more than most places in London and, I think, it's just the way the world is going. At the airport (which is one of the best I've frequented in the world) they're Tax and Duty free, which means you can save 50% on city prices. Well worth stocking up before you walk out... They even have a supermarket in the baggage claim area.

It's very safe. A friend told me that he was here about 10 years ago and everybody was going on about "the murder" with such shock that he asked when it happened... 19 seventy something, apparently.

 

The people are very polite with a great sense of humour (see the blurb from a book, below). There doesn't seem to be much of a queuing system (again, that's how us Brits judge manners abroad), but the service everywhere is very good and I saw a t-shirt earlier which said, "You are what you eat, but I haven't eaten any f*cking legends today..." Genius, I'm sure you'll agree.

They drive on the right, a question which much amused the car rental man as he handed over the keys. I'd definitely recommend hiring a car (and make it a 4x4) as there's a lot of space between their limited number of roads and it'll give you the freedom you wouldn't get from an organised excursion. If you do decide to go for an excursion though, try Grayline. We used these for the Northern Lights and they were very helpful and informative.

If you go out at night, it doesn't really kick off until after midnight, probably due to the £5.50 a pint issue. They have great live music though. I can recommend Lebowski Bar and (sorry, there was a football game on) The English Pub. Below is a video of a singer in The EP, who was so amazing that I took about 15 videos of him. If he suspected me of being a descendant of the murderer from back in the 70s, he was too polite to say.

They're very up on their natural energy. All over the airport they have posters bragging, "Why use coal when you have fire?" and a lot of their buildings, heating and electricity is powered by geo-thermal power. I spoke to a local who told me how great it was that he never had to shovel snow from his driveway as it melted the second it landed. That's some under-floor heating.

It's beautiful. Seriously. Despite 2013 being the best time to visit in terms of Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis) activity, it was unfortunately too cloudy during the few days that I spent here so we ended up stood in a field at midnight looking at the dark sky, but between the Blue Lagoon (Bláa Lónið), the Geysers, the Gullfoss waterfall on the Golden Circle and generally just driving around the country, including the Þingvellir national park, it's absolutely breathtaking....

 

(The Blue Lagoon at dusk)

(I got in the next morning - Top Tip: pay the entry level price, about €35, and skip the robe. Trust me, you won't want to be out of the water long enough to use it and you get the standard mud masks in and around the pool, if you're just after the experience for a couple of hours).

 

(Driving around. Get a 4x4 and go it solo).

(The Gullfoss "Golden Waterfalls" - Absolutely breathtaking. Could've stayed here for hours).

(The Northern Lights. I pictured them brighter, but the experience was still good fun).

 (If I were to go back, which I will be; those lights won't get the better of me, I'd skip the tour and drive myself to the best place to see the lights, on a clear night).

(The Geysers/Geysirs on the Golden Circle drive - Above and below. Quite possibly the weirdest and most brilliant thing I've ever seen our planet produce. Don't get too close).

 

And below, some pictures of in and around Reykjavik.

 

So, well done Iceland. Despite the ground constantly being at risk of blowing up under your feet and the inability to show me what I was hoping to be the world's greatest light display, you've won my heart.

(Couldn't forget the puffins).

St Lucia or bust

You may have realised by now that I'm the sort of person who can never sit still. About five years ago I was in a life situation that I didn't want to be in and after about six months of extremely tedious umming and ahhing (Ok, I've no idea how to spell that phrase) I took the plunge to get out of it. As with such things it wasn't as simple as it sounds, but the end result was me vowing to never get myself into a situation that I wasn't close to 100% happy with. I've never had myself psycho-analysed, but I'm pretty sure that this is why I'm a picky little fecker now.

I write this from St Lucia. In short, I'd been at home in England for longer than six weeks and was getting a little twitchy. On Tuesday I updated my Facebook status to declare to the world that I was getting a little twitchy and on Wednesday I booked a flight to St Lucia. I left on Thursday morning.

At this point I should probably point out that I'm not a gazillionaire. I'm just fortunate enough to know someone who works for an airline and can get cheaper flights on short notice. I also have a very understanding set of bosses who allowed me some time off. I land back in the UK on Monday morning and will be in the office by 10am.

Oh yeah, and this also happened. Again...

And this...

And once again I appear to have been mutilated by these...

St Lucia's pretty beautiful. I'm getting used to the whole Caribbean island thing having not that long ago returned from the Dominican Republic (note to self: must remember to write about the Dominican Republic). I'm staying in an all-inclusive resort, which I could definitely get used to but couldn't do every trip (again, twitchy feet) but it's ideal for a long weekend away. I'm also painfully aware of how glamourous that sounds.

I won't write too much as I'm getting frowned at by my fellow pool dwellers (I think the sight of a MacBook is making them remember the real world) and I'm also conscious that my posts are pretty lengthy, so all I'll say is this... No matter what situation you find yourself in, make sure it's a happy one. If you can't make it a happy one, stop being in it and do something else until it is a happy one. And if we fast-forward 30 years and I'm living in a house with 12 cats and having conversations with the toaster you can remind me of this, but that actually sounds pretty awesome.

Sri Lanka

I've been to Sri Lanka about five times with work and each trip I've noticed distinct changes to the country. The first couple of times I visited, Sri Lanka was coming to the end of its 27 year Civil War, which had my mum demanding hourly updates, but having never seen it before it was difficult to compare what Sri Lanka used to be like to what it was like by the time I visited. Sri Lanka was my first trip to a “developing country”, most of my travels until this point having been to Europe and the US, and it was quite the eye opener. I fell in love with the place almost immediately.

My advice to anyone travelling for holiday would be to fly into Colombo airport and then quickly get out again. Colombo is amazing. Not quite on the level of some cities in India I imagine, but the hustle and bustle can be quite a shock when you first get there (and even more of a shock once you come back again after some time at the beach or 'up country' in the hills and tea plantations).

The first thing you'll have to do when you reach the airport is pay a stranger to dump you into the back of his van and take you to where you need to go. Our office is in Colombo 3 district, which is about an hour drive. Addresses aren't very well recognised (as the guy in the van isn't an actual taxi driver) so I hang my head in shame as I tell them to drop me off at “McDonald's in Colombo 3”. This is the nearest landmark that isn't an expensive hotel (which would make the fare go up), but I do always feel the need to say “I don't eat McDonald's” as an afterthought. I don't think they ever believe me or particularly care though. At the time, the fare for this journey was about 2,500rps, but most drivers will start by quoting you at least double and then you work your way down from there. I've spent almost 30 minutes arguing over 20p before, which made me feel awful – I've been told to multiply the amount x10 in my head before agreeing to it to try and compare it to the UK equivalent of how much you'd overpay for something, but as £2 is also not that much money I usually always end up paying the higher amount at the end of the journey, but just feel like I've won something and taught a lesson about not trying to rip off tourists in future. I'm yet to discover if this has ever actually made a difference.

Also, there probably are more official driver services from the airport to the City, but I've never taken one and this always seems much more fun (although do be safe and don't tell my mum).

Since my last visit there's been a motorway built, but the majority of the roads are very badly maintained and the traffic moves very slowly. I think there probably are traffic accidents, but doubt that anyone notices as the average speed seems to be about 2 miles an hour. Apparently the motorway has revolutionised the efficiency of car journeys (it used to take about three hours to travel 25 miles – I'm not even kidding), but there were a lot of stray animal deaths in the early days. You can imagine they weren't used to cars being able to get up to 10 mph, let alone 70mph.

My first few trips to Colombo involved a lot of security check points. The area I stay in is not far from the President's living quarters, so the security was particularly high during the war (and I can now confirm that it's impossible to say that without sounding like Uncle Albert from the British sitcom, Only Fools and Horses). Typically they'd see that you were white and in my case, blonde and a feeble lady, and would wave you through, but the sight of a semi-automatic weapon will still put the heeby jeebies up you if you're not used to it. It also opens up the question about why terrorists wouldn't just force white, blonde women to do their dirty work for them, but I'd best not give anyone any ideas.

During my time in Sri Lanka towards the end of the war I saw a couple of air strikes (one of which I thought was a lightning storm until the search lights came out) and heard of a few bomb scares, but luckily I wasn't on the receiving end of any trouble. The advice at that time was, if you had no other choice but to go to the train station on a public bus or other overly populated places, to get out again as soon as you could. If you were to visit a shopping centre all bags/people would be searched. Again, I'd get waved through. Generally, at the time, you wouldn't see many tourists about the place unless you went to a larger hotel. The Galle Face Hotel is my favourite in Colombo, although the rates have massively increased since the war finished (first world problems etc.) and the Veranda Bar is a great place to work from of an evening, if the bustle gets too much.

They also have very amusing signs, which always make me smile.

Of course it wouldn't be a post about Sri Lanka if I didn't also mention the 2006 Tsunami. I, thankfully, wasn't there when it happened, but I did see the aftermath a couple of years later and was shocked by how some buildings, including schools, are still in ruin. In particular, the train from Galle to Colombo (where they tragically transported a lot of the women and children when the first wave hit) still lays on its side on the opposite side of the road as you go down to the beach. At the time, a lot of the villages didn't have phones so the communication was very poor and most people had no warning at all. It's a relief to see that this has now changed and that tsunami evacuation procedures are now in place, but it's a tragic way to learn and if you ever need some perspective on life this'll certainly give you a hard lesson.

The last time I visited the beach was almost non-existant and the tide very high, but I was told not to worry (and this was a year or two ago so they were right). 

 

(The above picture is of a bar. The sea used to be the dance floor. We moved in once our feet started to get wet). 

This memorial statue (Peraliya Buddha) took my breath away the first time I saw it. There are many temples and sculptures in Sri Lanka, but this one is about 50ft tall, faces out to sea and gives you a real sense of telling the waves to settle down and to not even think about doing it again. I hope it works.

During the week I obviously work (and sleep) in the office, but at weekends I try to escape either to the beach (I've always gone West down to Hikkaduwa as during the conflict the roads to the East were blocked) or up country to the beautiful, lush countryside such as Hatton or Kandy. I have a friend who owns a hotel in Hikkaduwa, called SunBeach Hotel, and it's a wonderful place to stay. The upstairs rooms are very clean, big and you can hear the ocean constantly. Fortunately, in Hikka the shape of the sea bed meant that the tsunami almost completely missed the village, whereas half a mile to the left and right were completely devastated. The hotel (and locals) did suffer damage though and I've had a few late night drinks with my friend who owns the hotel about her experience of the day it happened.

Up country you can climb Adam's Peak (Sri Pada - a really pointy mountain) overnight with the idea of seeing a sunrise, but if you do it in rainy season (I can relay this first hand) you'll need to take waterproofs, eucalyptus for the leeches which will either get to your feet or your trainers and prepare to not see “Adam's footprint” as the key to the safe it's locked behind will be in Colombo. The time I climbed Adam's Peak I went with a colleague and neither of us had any water or waterproofs, but we stayed at the Green House and the elderly owners, who were lovely, helped us out. Our guide didn't turn up (this can be quite typical sometimes) so we decided to take the trip solo, which is very easy as the climb is all steps... Around 5,000 of the little monkeys. We had about 200mls of water, which showed very poor foresight, but luckily took the risk on a “spring” and managed to top up near the summit. When we reached the top (which was like being engulfed in a massive cloud) there were a few monks who took us in, gave us some tea and stared at us like we were mental. We climbed down shortly afterwards (you try being barefoot in a temple in a freezing cold cloud) and the next morning I had a rather amusing moment by myself in a hotel when I stepped out of bed and promptly fell over. I couldn't walk for about a week.

(The above picture is of the shadow that the Peak makes during sunrise. I told you it was pointy).

For advice on getting around in Sri Lanka try this site here: http://www.lonelyplanet.com/sri-lanka

A lot of the time, however, you can ask the locals and generally I feel that “winging it” is the best way to see any country, as long as you adjust your tolerance levels and don't mind slumming it a bit.

If you do go, definitely get the train when you can and although you'll be offered “First Class” (which costs a tiny amount and means you get a seat in a carriage that has a fan), I would either buy the ticket and donate it to someone (good to keep Karma on your side) or get a Third Class ticket and hang out the doors like the locals do. You'll have an amazing experience and see some great views – especially at night when the fireflies come out to play. Just make sure you hold on tight and I'd advise not doing this if it's a “Poya” holiday (these are once a month, every full moon) as you'll find yourself on a train with thousands of people, stood on one leg, which gets tiresome after four hours especially if you're on your way back from climbing Adam's Peak and have jelly legs already.

If you're brave enough and like a thrill, I'd also recommend taking a bus somewhere for a short journey. They're lethal, the tyres are usually bare and I've never been convinced that the brakes work as well as they should do. There's a strong chance that you'll find yourself in hysterics whilst trying to hold on, not bash into other people and closing your eyes as the bus overtakes the traffic in front on a blind corner with another bus coming the other way. You can imagine how much the Sri Lankan commuters love this.

Overall, Sri Lanka is a very beautiful country that's gone through a whole world of changes over the past 30 years and continues to change as it now gets back to “normality”. My last visit saw less guns, more tourists and an ice cream shop in Colombo, which I never thought I'd ever see.

Lastly, I feel I must put a disclaimer in here as a lot of the stuff I've recommended is slightly dangerous and I doubt you'd be advised to do it from a Tour Operator. So, do it if you're not afraid of a little adrenaline, but I'm not responsible for any actions taken as a result of the above post, or injury or death (or the inability to walk after climbing 5,000 steps).